Regretting the Wife He Threw Away novel Chapter 489

“Daddy…”

“Nina!”

Mario hurried over and grabbed his little sister’s hand.

“Mario, do you think Daddy’s sick?”

Mario didn’t look at Stewart Wentworth. Instead, he used his small body to block Nina’s view.

“Nina, I’ve got a brand new toy. It’s really cool—come on, I’ll show you, okay?”

“A new toy?” Nina’s eyes lit up. She immediately forgot her worries, bouncing with excitement. “I want to see! Show me!”

Mario led her inside, their voices fading down the hallway.

Out in the dark, Stewart’s coughing finally eased.

The handkerchief in his hand was stained with bright red.

He tossed it into the trash, turned, and walked quickly back into the house. He headed straight for the bedroom, then into the bathroom.

He twisted on the faucet and rinsed out his mouth.

The water swirling in the sink went from a vivid red to faint pink. Gradually, the metallic taste faded from his tongue, and his ragged breathing slowed.

When the water shut off, Stewart looked up at his reflection in the mirror.

His face was ghostly pale, faint shadows ringing his eyes. He’d lost weight lately, making his features look even sharper, almost severe.

His phone buzzed in his pocket.

Lorna Riley.

He answered, and her breezy, irreverent voice crackled through the line.

“Still got it, babe! I barely set foot in the bar and Barrie Lockwood sniffed me out like a bloodhound. Honestly, Stewart, don’t be surprised if I break your heart and go home with someone else tonight!”

He was used to Lorna’s swagger, but Barrie Lockwood and the people behind him were nothing to take lightly. Stewart couldn’t help but warn her, “Just be careful. If anything feels off, get out. Don’t take risks.”

“Oh, look at you, worrying about me!” Lorna laughed, careless as ever. “Don’t sweat it, just wait for my good news. Meanwhile, you enjoy your stay-at-home-dad routine. Oh, and one more thing—I heard from my guy this afternoon. He said your ex-wife saw a therapist two days ago.”

Stewart froze.

“No details yet. Want me to dig deeper?”

“Do it,” he said, voice rough. He squeezed his eyes shut. “And I want to meet that therapist.”