Briony needed to break free from Stewart, but if the price of freedom was becoming a murderer, that was simply too high a cost.
That’s why James silently hoped Stewart would come out of this unscathed.
Briony deserved a life untainted by Stewart’s shadow.
Two people who were never meant to stay together—after the divorce, they could each go their separate ways, find their own peace.
That was the best ending anyone could hope for.
…
Stewart sat beside Briony, watching her, but she never looked up, her attention fixed on her phone.
Nearby, a young couple had just received their marriage certificate. The woman, beaming, linked arms with her new husband, chattering about where they should go for dinner that night.
The man smiled and told her he’d already booked a hotel—two days and one night of a romantic getaway, just for the two of them.
Hearing this, the woman’s face lit up with delight. She held his arm tighter, her laughter ringing with pure, sweet happiness.
Stewart couldn’t help but be pulled back to nine years ago, to the day he and Briony registered their marriage.
That day, after they signed the papers, he had to rush to court, so he gave her the code to his house, told her to move into Southcreek Manor on her own.
By the time he finished work and came home, it was already past midnight.
He hadn’t expected to find Briony asleep on the sofa, a modest dinner—four dishes and a soup—laid out on the table.
When Briony woke and saw him, the first thing she asked was, “Have you eaten?”
She was only twenty-one then, her face still soft with youth, her wide eyes searching his face with a hint of nervousness.
In that moment, he found her almost painfully sincere. Even though he’d already eaten, he lied and said he hadn’t.
The moment she heard he hadn’t eaten yet, she sprang into action, reheating all the dishes.
Truthfully, that dinner wasn’t particularly good; there was even a bit of eggshell in the scrambled eggs.
Looking back now, Stewart realized, far too late, that when he married Briony, she was still just a girl—she didn’t even know how to cook.
That night, as he picked at the awkward meal, he caught sight of a Band-Aid on her finger.
His heart had fluttered a little then, but the feeling was quickly shattered by a work call.
By the time he finished the call, Briony had already gone upstairs to tend to little Irwin, who wouldn’t stop crying...
In the years that followed, Briony’s cooking improved with every meal. She turned their house into a warm, inviting home for the three of them.
But Stewart had never noticed the effort behind it all.
The cozy family life he took for granted was something Briony had built with five years of her youth—day by day, bit by bit—pouring everything she had into their home.
And he was the one who lost it all.
Stewart closed his eyes, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard.
The ache in his chest spread, sharp and unrelenting, creasing his brow with every breath.
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