Regretting the Wife He Threw Away novel Chapter 644

“She’ll need to be moved to a private, sterile room for observation. There’s a large patch of subcutaneous bleeding on her back—probably from bumping into something in the mountains. The bleeding’s under control now, but we need to keep a close eye on her.”

For leukemia patients, even the smallest bruise is a threat. The skin might not break, but severe internal bleeding beneath the surface can have disastrous consequences.

Briony was dangerously fragile now.

Even the most ordinary germ could send her spiraling back into crisis.

Stewart’s mind was a storm of confusion; he still couldn’t process the reality of Briony’s illness.

But denial was pointless now. All he could do was face it head-on and find a way to save her, whatever it took.

“Is a bone marrow transplant really her only option? Is there any chance on your end…?”

“It’s leukemia,” Jonah replied, already knowing what Stewart was about to ask. He let out a weary sigh. “And it’s the most aggressive kind. Even if I could help, it would take years of work. She simply doesn’t have that kind of time…”

Stewart closed his eyes, pain etched deep into his face.

…

Briony lingered in a coma for three days and nights. Her temperature and vital signs gradually stabilized, but she never woke.

Stewart visited her every day, suiting up in sterile gear and sitting by her side for hours on end.

If the organization hadn’t needed him to handle some final details, he would have stayed with her day and night, never leaving her bedside.

On the third day, good news finally arrived.

The raid at the wedding estate had been a resounding success. All remaining members of the syndicate had been captured, save for Ferdinand, who’d fallen off a cliff after being shot—his body still missing.

Over the following week, the organization deployed special operations teams. Using Stewart’s intel and confessions from captured ringleaders, they dismantled several more strongholds.

At last, after more than a decade, the long shadow of the “Gray Operation” was lifted—all remnants of the criminal network swept away.

Stewart’s mission was complete. He was free at last.

…

After a week of relentless rain, the sun finally broke through over Sanctonia Private Estate.

Stewart was just about to enter Briony’s room when Mr. Hoffman’s call came through.

He hesitated, staring at the screen, then answered.

“Congratulations,” the old man’s voice was rough, but steady. “Ten years. You finally made it to the end.”

Stewart gripped the phone, silent for a long moment.

Finally, he murmured, “Mr. Hoffman, you’ve carried your share of the burden too.”

“I’m an old man now,” Mr. Hoffman chuckled. “And you’re not so young yourself. For this mission, you lost your friends, your family fell apart… Do you regret it?”

“You’re just starting to recover. You can’t let yourself catch a chill.”

Briony adjusted the shawl, her voice soft. “I’ve been stuck in bed for days. I just needed to stretch my legs a little.”

After everything that had happened, a quiet truce had settled between them—a sense of peace and mutual respect.

Standing here now, they were no longer husband and wife, nor bitter ex-lovers, nor enemies. They were simply the parents of two children.

From now on, that was likely how it would always be: two old friends, supporting each other, wishing each other well, sincerely hoping the other could find peace.

Because only if both of them carried on, their children’s childhoods would remain whole.

There was tenderness in Stewart’s gaze as he looked at Briony, but it was tinged with acceptance—a bittersweet release.

He would never force her heart again.

He knew the pain he’d caused had long ago extinguished the love she once held for him.

Briony had loved him fiercely and without regret. He’d let her down.

He still felt the ache of loss, still loved her in his own quiet way. But now, that was his burden to bear alone.

He asked for nothing more. To be there for Briony as the father of their children, to protect her in whatever way he could—that was enough.