Regretting the Wife He Threw Away

"No," Briony answered, her voice calm and even. "Whether I look for him or not has nothing to do with him anymore."

Gwendolyn White studied her, searching for any flicker of dishonesty across Briony's face.

But there was nothing.

Briony remained composed, unruffled.

Gwendolyn sighed softly. "But you know, Bryn, your godfather and I—we can't help worrying about you. We're afraid you'll never move on from Stewart's death."

"Godmother, even if Stewart were still alive, I wouldn't have gone back to him." Briony stared into her glass of wine, swirling the deep red liquid. "It's just... now that he's gone, I can't help but feel a bit of regret. But it's not about love. It's just— he shouldn't have left this world like that..."

"Bryn, it's only natural to feel regret," Gwendolyn said gently. "Not just for you. Even I-whenever I think about Stewart, or look at those two kids, there's always this strange ache in my heart."

"I'm not keeping myself single out of loyalty to Stewart," Briony said, her eyes lowered as she watched the wine shimmer in her glass. "The regret I feel isn't about love. It's about the waste of it all. Our nine-year marriage-it wasn't really as important as I thought. I just feel Stewart deserved a better ending. But that ending, it should be about the kids. Not about me."

"I understand." Gwendolyn set her glass down and moved to Briony's side, wrapping her arms around her.

"Your regret comes from the fact that he was finally ready to get treatment, and then... that happened. Bryn, you keep thinking that if you'd been a little more firm that day, if you hadn't agreed to take Stewart and the kids to the amusement park, maybe it wouldn't have happened at all."

Briony leaned into her godmother's embrace, closing her eyes.

She didn't argue. She didn't answer.

Gwendolyn gently stroked her hair. "Oh, Bryn, people have their own destinies. You did everything you could."

Briony kept her eyes closed, a glimmer of moisture gathering at the corners.

After a long silence, Gwendolyn finally heard her whisper, "He asked me if I still resented him. I do regret it, godmother. I regret that I never answered him that day."

She was the one who left Stewart with regret, sending him from this world without closure.

In Stewart's final moments, the only thing he felt from her was coldness.

It was Briony, with her indifference, who sealed the end of Stewart's life.

In the warmth of family and the soft haze of wine, Briony finally let her guard down

for the first time in months. Her tears came quietly, soaking through Gwendolyn's shirt.

How could she not be heartbroken?

She was devastated.

If she could do it all over again, she would teff Stewart herself: I don't blame you anymore. Let's just go our separate ways and wish each other well.

On New Year's Eve, Briony's phone lit up with a flood of holiday messages. Some were from business partners, others from young men she barely knew, who'd somehow gotten hold of her private number.

Mary sent a voice message—a cheerful one, squeezed in between the

Ws of a New Year's party,

wishing Briony happiness at the

stroke of midnight. fo

Stella sent one too, with Aster in the background, babbling nonsense in her baby voice.

There were dozens more. Briony picked out the ones from close friends and replied to each, one by one.

By the

farmal finished, it was late faded, and Northborough ready

The midnight fireworks had

hade

slipped back into its usual quiet.

She headed to her bedroom, only to find little Mario-who should have been fast

asleep-wide awake and perched on the window seat.

Outside, the night was still and silent.

It was already past one in the morning—the first hours of the New Year.

Even the liveliest cities eventually fall quiet.

Little Mario sat curled up on the window ledge, his small frame bundled tight, gazing up at the night sky.noveldrama

The heater was on, so Briony wasn't worried about him catching cold.

She walked over and sat beside him.

He glanced at her, then turned back to the window, focused on the world outside.

She reached out and ruffled his hair. "What are you looking at out there, Mario?"

"Snowflakes," he answered, eyes wide and fixed on the drifting snow beyond the glass.