Regretting the Wife He Threw Away

Chapter 286 "I'm back in Northborough." "What?" Cedric Clarke sounded genuinely shocked. "Why on earth did you cback?" "I want to visit my son." Cedric paused at that. After a moment, he replied, "You won't be able to get into the Wentworth family cemetery." "That's why I'm calling you." Cedric let out a weary sigh. "Well, for Star's sake, I guess I'll just keep playing the part of the disloyal friend." Briony pressed her lips together, saying nothing.

"I'll head over now," Cedric said. "If you get there before I do, just wait for me." "Alright." After ending the call, Briony turned to gaze out the window, her eyes dark and distant.

About half an hour later, the taxi pulled up outside the Wentworth family cemetery.

Briony paid the fare and stepped out into the cool evening air.

Her phone rang inside her bag—it was James.

"Those photos and videos definitely made things difficult for Rosita," he sighed. "But they were all taken down within half a day. Just like four years ago. Stewart's handiwork, no doubt." "I figured as much." Briony's tone was calm; she had expected this outcome. "That was just the appetizer. These days, Rosita not only has Stewart protecting her, but Garry as well. She cares a lot about her career. If we want to get to her, that's where we need to start." "What do you mean?" "Let her climb even higher," Briony replied coldly.

She hung up. Moments later, she heard a car approaching behind her.

Turning, she saw Cedric Clarke getting out of his car.

He'd hardly changed in four years-if anything, he looked a little older, a little more mature.

Walking over, Cedric gave Briony a quick once-over. "You look much better than you did back then." Briony offered a faint smile. "I owe that to your help, Dr. Clarke. I wouldn't be standing here today otherwise." Cedric raised an eyebrow. "Don't flatter me. I only helped you for Star's sake." Briony smiled softly but didn't argue.

"Con," Cedric said. "I'll talk to the groundskeeper. But I can't promise he won't report this to Stewart." "It doesn't matter," Briony replied quietly. "If I had the nerve to cback to Northborough, I'm ready to face Stewart sooner or later." Cedric looked at her in surprise. "So you're planning to...?" "The first step is filing for divorce," Briony said, meeting his eyes. "You know, I have help these days-someone powerful. Stewart may not be able to hold out for long." Cedric pressed his lips together, hesitating before asking, "I've wondered about this for four years. Now that you've reached out, I have to ask-who's been helping you?" Briony just smiled, giving him no answer.

Cedric let out a resigned laugh. "Fine. Given my history with Stewart, I suppose it makes sense you'd be cautious." "It's not that," Briony said, stopping to look at him, her expression earnest. "It's just... sometimes it's better you don't know. You're already caught between Star and Stewart. That's hard enough, isn't it?" Cedric was taken aback for a moment, then smiled. "You're right." They walked together to her son's grave.

Briony knelt down, her hand trembling as she traced the small headstone- smaller than any of the others. Her eyes filled with tears.

"Grandpa Wentworth is right next to him," Cedric said softly, standing nearby. He watched as Briony bowed her head in silent grief. "He was a kind old man. He loved Stewart very much. Your son isn't alone-he's with someone who'll look after him." Briony's fingers lingered on the cold stone, noting that there wasn't even a photo on the headstone.

"I... I don't even know what he looked like..." She swallowed, her voice breaking. "Every tI see Little Nina's bright smile, I can't help but wonder-if he'd survived, would he have looked like her? Would he have been just as cheerful and sweet?" "But there's no 'what if'," she whispered. "I was so useless. I chose to keep him, but I couldn't protect him. I don't know if he blames me... for saving his sister but not him..." Her words dissolved into sobs, tears streaming down her face like pearls on a broken string.

"For four years, I've dreamed of him-he's always crying for me, but I can never find him. His voice is lost in the fog, and no matter how hard I search, I can't reach him..." Cedric's heart ached just listening. Now that he had a son of his own, he understood her pain.

The death of her son had left a wound in Briony's heart that would never gent truly healett would fester and sear, heal and reopen-a permanent ache, but not enough to kill her. It was regret. It was guilt. It was the kind of sorrow words could never convey, a grief she would carry for the rest of her life.

There is no pain in the world like that of a mother who's lost her child. Their hearts fall ill along with their children, with no cure to be found.

Cedric stayed with Briony in the cemetery for over an hour.

As dusk fell, Cedric finally leaned down and helped her to her feet.

"It's getting late. We should go." Briony wiped the tears from her face and took a deep breath, steadying herself.

"Let's go," she said, turning to walk ahead.

It was her first tvisiting her son's grave, and she'd cin such an hurry, she hadn't brought anything with her. Next time, she thought, she'd bring stoys and treats. Cedric followed quietly behind. Neither spoke the heaviness lingered between them.

Outside the cemetery, the streetlights had con.

Under the glow, a black Maybach sat parked by the curb.

The door swung open, and Stewart stepped out, tall and imposing.

Briony stopped in her tracks.

She stared at the man walking toward her, her beautiful eyes as cold as ice.