Regretting the Wife He Threw Away novel Chapter 658

Briony kept her head bowed, afraid he might notice something was wrong.

She nodded quietly and lifted another spoonful of soup to her lips.

Stewart stood nearby, watching her. It wasn’t until her third bite that he finally noticed something was off.

He quickly crouched down beside her, just in time to see a tear slip from her eye.

The tear landed in the pale soup.

A sharp ache pulsed in Stewart’s chest. “Bryn?”

Briony reached up to wipe her eyes. “I’m fine, really…”

Stewart gently took the bowl from her hands and set it on the table.

“Bryn, I’m sorry. I know I put you through so much.” He knelt on one knee in front of her, a heavy sorrow settling over him.

He knew exactly why she was crying.

A simple bowl of soup had opened the floodgates of memory.

For five years, she had started from nothing, learning as she went, raising a newborn with patience and devotion. She gave everything without complaint, only to have it all repaid with his betrayal, and the resentment and blame of that child she’d loved as her own…

Then, after four years apart, even when fate brought them together again, he’d only managed to hurt her all over.

Each wound had etched itself into her heart, leaving scars that never quite faded.

She always said she’d let go, that she just didn’t want to keep clinging to the past. Maybe she was simply too tired to keep caring, too worn out to keep fighting.

But things that truly happened—how could anyone ever pretend they never existed?

Just one bowl of soup, and she was in tears.

He’d been a complete fool back then.

Stewart was consumed with regret—ashamed of all the pain he’d caused.

He reached out, wanting to wipe away her tears, but Briony turned away before he could touch her.

“I just need a moment alone,” she said softly, still refusing to meet his eyes, determined not to let him see her looking so vulnerable.

Stewart’s hand hung awkwardly in the air.

After a moment, he swallowed hard and replied, “Okay.”

He slowly got to his feet and left the room.

The instant the door closed, Briony buried her face in her hands and wept.

The bowl of soup sat untouched, cooling as the minutes ticked by.

Time might dull the sharpest pain, but it couldn’t erase what had truly happened. When familiar faces or objects returned, the memories came with them, resurfacing with a vengeance, taking root and torturing the heart.

Briony knew, at least for now, she couldn’t genuinely tell her past self that it was all okay.