Regretting the Wife He Threw Away

They returned hwith a trunk packed full of groceries, and as soon as they walked in, Briony pulled Marlene and Carol into the kitchen to get things started.

The kitchen soon glowed with warmth and laughter. The three women bustled around, chatting about who knows what, the air filled with the clatter of pans and bursts of giggles as they cooked.

They kept at it until seven o'clock, and by then, the dining table was a feast-dish after delicious dish laid out in a colorful spread.

Gwendolyn White beamed as she called out, "Dinner's ready! Everyone, cto the table!" People began making their way over, drawn by the smells and the promise of good company.

Maynard arrived right on cue, arms full of gifts and several boxes of holiday treats. He joked that he'd dropped by to freeload for dinner and, while he was at it, to wish everyone an early happy new year.

Gwendolyn laughed, teasing him for having such a keen nose-he always managed to show up just as the food hit the table.

Maynard had a gift for putting people at ease, a skill honed by growing up in a family where warmth and generosity ran deep. With two elderly relatives at home, he'd learned early on how to charm the older generation, and he and Gwendolyn traded jokes and stories until she was practically glowing with praise for him.

Stewart watched from the sidelines, a hint of envy flickering in his eyes. He'd never been good at handling family gatherings or navigating social niceties. Yet Maynard, with just a few words, had the whole room-especially the elders- laughing along with him.

For the first time, Stewart truly realized how valuable emotional intelligence could be.

He closed his eyes for a moment, then quietly slipped away to a quieter corner, sitting with his two children. Meanwhile, Gwendolyn drew Briony to sit beside Maynard; Stewart noticed, reading her intentions all too clearly. He lowered his gaze, hiding the loneliness in his eyes.

Around the marble dining table, large enough to seat twenty, everyone took their places. The lazy Susan in the center turned slowly, carrying platters of food past eager hands.

Conversation and laughter flowed easily. The men raised their glasses in hearty toasts, while the women sipped juice in place of wine.

Together, they lifted their glasses and toasted to Briony's recovery, wishing her health and peace for many years to come.

By midnight, the lively dinner drew to a close. Maynard rose to say his goodbyes, and Gwendolyn fussed over him, insisting he cby more often. Maynard promised he would.

Briony, still not fully recovered, was ushered off to bed by Gwendolyn before ten.

Once the guests had left, Gwendolyn and her husband, along with Kendal and his wife, retired to their rooms. Marlene and Carol stayed behind, tidying up the dining room.

Upstairs in the master bedroom, Briony stepped out of the bathroom after her shower just as there was a knock at the door.

It was Stewart.

"A New Year's gift," he said, handing her a small gift bag.

Briony stared at him, half amused. "Are you taking notes from Mr. Maynard and bringing early holiday gifts now?" "I passed by the mall today, wandered in, and this caught my eye. I thought you might like it," Stewart replied. Briony accepted the bag with a smile. "So, does that mean I should get you something in return?" Stewart shook his head, not daring to hope for anything from her. "That's not necessary. I'm not in need of anything..." "Con, fair's fair," Briony insisted. "Is there anything you want?" He hesitated, surprised. "Are you serious?" She nodded. "I'm accepting gifts from both you and Mr. Maynard. It wouldn't be right to return the favor to him and not to you." So that's what this was about. Stewart's lips curved in a faint smile. "I'll leave it up to you. I'd appreciate anything." "Alright." Briony paused, then asked, "Was there something else?" "No," Stewart said softly, meeting her eyes. "You should get srest. I'll head out." Briony's health had improved-she was out of the hospital and no longer needed constant care. He had no excuse to stay any longer.

He turned to go.

"Stewart," she called after him.

He stopped, turning back.

"It's late, and it's still snowing outside. Why don't you stay over tonight?" He looked genuinely startled. "You mean... you wantto stay?" "There's a spare room next to little Mario's. You can use it for now. It f be easier to help with the kids f need anything during the night." He could hardly believe his luck.

they When he hesitated, Briony added, "Of course, it's just a suggestion. If you'd rather not-" "I'll stay," he said quickly, almost tdoor. If our days feet breathless. "You're right-it's better is up in the night, I'll be there to help." "Thank you, Stewart." She lingered for a moment, then said, "I'm going to sleep.

Good night." "Good night." They exchanged quiet farewells, and Stewart waited until the door closed before heading to the children's

room. He walked down the hallway, his footsteps lighter than they'd been in month's his heart pounding, blood racing.

Inside her room, Briony leaned against the door, pressing her hand to her flushed cheeks. The warmth there had nothing to do with her illness. She sighed, feeling a little foolish.

Stella's words echoed in her mind, filling her with uncertainty. She stared at the ceiling, unable to untangle her own feelings.

But after coming so close to death, she realized that health and peace mattered far more than anything else—including love.

As for the future... she decided to let things unfold as they would.