Regretting the Wife He Threw Away novel Chapter 656

“I’ll be heading out, so try to get some rest.”

Briony gave her a nod. “Alright.”

…

Cedric Clarke came downstairs and made a beeline for the kitchen, looking for Stewart.

Stewart was standing by the stove, simmering a pot of soup. He wore dark jeans and a plain white T-shirt, a fresh bandage still wrapped around one forearm. Even from behind—broad shoulders, trim waist—he made quite a striking figure.

Cedric clicked his tongue in mock admiration, folding his arms as he leaned against the doorway. Watching Stewart fuss over the soup, he couldn’t help but marvel, “If this isn’t a total transformation, I don’t know what is!”

Stewart glanced over his shoulder. “You saw Bryn?”

“Yeah.” Cedric crossed the room. “Gave her the report. She seems to be holding up alright, honestly. I get the sense her attitude’s still pretty positive.”

Stewart’s gaze stayed on the bubbling pot. “She’s resigned herself to it. For the baby’s sake, she’ll cooperate with any treatment, even if there’s only a sliver of hope. But if things don’t work out, she’s already made peace with it.”

Cedric let out a laugh. “What, did you take a secret night class? ‘How to Read Your Ex-Wife’?”

Stewart shot him a sidelong look.

Cedric clapped him on the shoulder, grinning. “Seriously, man, seeing you like this—I’m honestly happy for you. Sure, you lost the wife, but at least you’ve got two healthy kids.”

Stewart stirred the soup, not looking up. “Your wife hasn’t left. You could still try for the full set.”

Cedric’s smile faded to a wry one. “Not a chance. My wife’s got stars in her eyes. Me and our son together still can’t compete with her dreams.”

Stewart caught the undercurrent of frustration and glanced over. “Did you two fight?”

Cedric shrugged. “Nah. Just… been getting the cold shoulder, that’s all.”

Stewart said nothing.

Cedric, ever the dramatist, let out a theatrical sigh. “Here I am, banished to the guest room, and I don’t even know what I did wrong.”

Stewart: “…”

“She was just telling Briony she wants a divorce, you know.”

Stewart paused, surprised. “Stella wants a divorce?”

Cedric nodded. “It’s not the first time she’s brought it up.”

“You think she means it?” Stewart asked.

Cedric shrugged. “Not really. It’s just talk—she says whatever’s on her mind. She’ll spot some good-looking guy on the street and wolf-whistle right in front of me. I get jealous, she calls me petty. But two minutes later she’s all over me, calling me honey, begging me not to be mad. She’s like a kid, honestly. What can I do? I married a handful. Guess I’ve just got to spoil her.”

Stewart had been ready to offer some comfort, thinking Cedric was genuinely upset. The more he listened, though, the more he realized: this wasn’t venting; this was humblebragging about married life.

With a straight face, Stewart said, “If you’re going to show off your happy marriage, please see yourself out.”

Cedric burst out laughing. “Alright, alright. You single guys just don’t get the suffering of married men. I’ll get out of your hair. This soup smells great, by the way. Next time, make extra—I might just invite myself over for dinner.”

Stewart kept stirring the soup, choosing not to dignify that with a reply.