Regretting the Wife He Threw Away novel Chapter 57

Briony was the first to look away, turning to the older woman and saying, “You’ve got it wrong—he’s not my husband.”

“Oh?” The woman blinked in surprise, caught off guard for the first time in her years of sales pitches. After a long pause, she managed, “Oh… I see.”

Briony didn’t dwell on the awkward exchange. She grabbed a neatly packaged tray of ribs from the meat counter and headed toward the produce section.

Stewart watched her go, his eyes cool and unreadable.

…

By the time they returned to Southcreek Manor, it was already noon.

Briony went straight to the kitchen to start lunch.

Irwin was in the living room, tinkering with his new toys.

No sooner had Briony tied on her apron than the glass kitchen door slid open.

She turned and saw Stewart step inside.

“Did you need something?” she asked.

He glanced at the ingredients on the counter, his voice calm. “Do you want a hand?”

“I’m fine,” Briony replied without looking up, already busy at the sink.

Stewart stood and watched her for a moment before quietly leaving.

She turned on the tap and pulled out the vegetables to wash them.

It wasn’t long before Stewart returned.

“Here. Wear these,” he said.

Briony paused mid-wash, eyeing the plastic gloves he held out. Her brow furrowed.

“The burn on your hand is still healing. It’d be better to keep it covered.”

Briony glanced at the faint pink patch of new skin on the back of her hand. He was right—it was still delicate.

She took the gloves, her tone flat. “Thanks. You can go now.”

Without another word, Stewart left the kitchen.

Irwin had asked for all sorts of dishes, but since he was just recovering from pneumonia, Briony chose mild, nourishing recipes.

Over the years, she’d researched countless meal plans for Irwin—meals tailored for a child with a sensitive stomach.

Cooking was demanding, but after five years, she moved around the kitchen with practiced ease.

About an hour later, she brought out five dishes and a hearty soup to the dining table.

“Irwin, lunch is ready. Go wash your hands,” she called.