Regretting the Wife He Threw Away novel Chapter 673

After Briony was rushed to the hospital that day, the doctors confirmed her condition had taken a turn for the worse.

A week of desperate treatments followed—a brutal battle that barely snatched her life back from Death’s grasp.

But Briony’s illness was anything but typical, defying every expert’s predictions.

There was a bitter divide among the doctors. Cedric Clarke had brought in a team of oncologists who insisted on chemotherapy. On the other side, Kendal Ellsworth and several other senior physicians trained in holistic medicine argued fiercely against it.

Their disagreements dragged on, neither side willing to back down.

In the end, it was Briony who made the call.

She refused chemo, opting instead for conservative management.

It was her right as a patient, and though the experts disagreed, they ultimately respected her choice.

Briony moved back into that small medical cottage.

Every day, Kendal would visit to perform acupuncture, and the air inside was thick with the scent of herbal remedies. Bowl after bowl of bitter medicine came and went without pause.

Two weeks passed. Briony’s illness was held at bay for now, but she grew thinner by the day.

She could barely keep down anything except a little plain porridge. Even when she forced herself to eat, she’d soon be wracked with nausea, bringing it all back up.

The ordeal took its toll—not just in suffering, but in the growing frailty of her body.

Eventually, they had no choice but to hook her up to an IV for nourishment.

The days blurred together in her fight against the illness, time seeming to slip by even faster.

In the blink of an eye, a month had passed. Winter had come to Northborough.

In less than two months, Briony had lost over twenty pounds. Her already fair skin now looked nearly translucent, the tiny blue veins beneath as clear as if drawn with a pen.

Through it all, her children visited every week.

Whenever she knew they were coming, Briony would bundle herself up tightly and put on a little makeup to cover the exhaustion etched on her face.

Briony would hold him close, silently stroking his small back.

—

There was still no news about a bone marrow match, and time kept slipping away.

On the last day of October, the first snow of the year fell in Northborough.

The yard was blanketed in white—perfect for building snowmen.

Stewart took the children outside to pile up the snow, shaping it into lopsided figures.

Briony sat in her wheelchair, wrapped in thick blankets, while Stella Joyner gently pushed her to the window.

Her body looked so slight beneath the covers, her hand thin and pale with an IV needle taped to the skin.

The medicine dripped slowly into her veins as she watched her family play in the snow, the world outside muffled and sparkling, just beyond the glass.