Regretting the Wife He Threw Away novel Chapter 72

“Work never really ends, but you *have* to buy new clothes for the New Year. Out with the old, in with the new—that’s how you invite luck and happiness for the year ahead!”

As Julia spoke, she ushered Briony into the fitting room. “Go on, try these on. I’ll wait right here.”

Briony had a great figure; with the right size, anything looked fantastic on her.

The last outfit was a dress—fitted and a little more tailored than the rest.

Julia stepped up and gently ran her hands over Briony’s waist and stomach. “Is this one too snug?”

Briony stiffened.

Her belly wasn’t showing at all yet, but the way her mother’s hand lingered there made her nervous.

Thankfully, Julia quickly withdrew her hand, frowning and shaking her head. “It looks gorgeous, but it’s much too fitted. You’ll be uncomfortable working in this—let’s find something roomier.”

It was true; as a physical therapist, Briony needed clothes she could actually move in.

Briony shot her mother a sidelong glance. Julia’s face was as calm as ever, and Briony let out a silent sigh of relief.

Maybe she was just being paranoid.

In the end, they bought all five outfits Julia had picked out—except for the fitted dress.

Briony paid for everything and then led Julia next door, into a boutique for women her mother’s age.

There, she bought Julia five new outfits and two pairs of shoes.

As they were checking out, a mother and daughter walked in—it was Mack’s aunt, Melody Lynn, and her daughter Ottilie Kensington from the second branch of the Kensington family.

The moment Melody and Ottilie entered, they spotted Briony and Julia. The two exchanged a look and stepped aside, quietly watching.

“Ms. Kensington, your total comes to one hundred fifty-seven thousand pounds,” the cashier announced.

Briony handed over her card.

Julia tried to stop her, flustered. “That’s too much! Bryn, you’re young and you own your own studio—designer brands make sense for you. I’m too old for that sort of thing, and I hardly ever go anywhere. Just get me something simple!”

Briony shot her a look. “Mom, that’s not what you said when you were telling me to buy new clothes.”

Julia huffed. “I was just worried about you—”

“And I’m worried about you,” Briony replied, slipping her card to the cashier. “Please ring it up and have everything delivered to this address.”