Regretting the Wife He Threw Away novel Chapter 682

“Whatever happens, always respect her.”

To love her means to respect her.

That’s how James understood love.

Stewart gazed at James, his eyes unwavering. For the first time, he found himself feeling genuine respect and even admiration for James.

From the moment James met Briony, he’d stayed by her side—as a friend, as family, in every way that mattered.

He’d done so well, in fact, that Stewart felt a sting of inadequacy by comparison.

The room was empty except for the distant, joyful squeals of the children playing in the dining room and the gentle voice of a woman guiding them.

Lowering his voice, Stewart asked, “Are you leaving soon?”

James dropped his gaze, a bitter smile flickering across his lips. “Yeah. I’m the only son left in the Delaney family, and I’m at the age where people expect me to settle down. My grandfather’s health isn’t great, and he wants to see me get married, maybe have kids.”

Stewart fell silent at that. As someone with a failed marriage behind him, he didn’t feel he had much right to comment on the subject.

“Does Bryn know?”

“Haven’t told her yet.” James tried to sound casual. “I’ll wait a few days. I’m heading back after the holidays.”

Stewart nodded. “Alright.”

…

Once the decorations were finished, Stewart and James headed to the kitchen to help with dinner prep.

James moved with practiced ease, deftly handling every task. Stewart, on the other hand, struggled. When it came time to knead the dough, the stiffness in his left and right pinky fingers became noticeable.

Little Nina stared, puzzled, at her father’s unmoving finger. “Daddy, why doesn’t this finger move?”

Stewart’s face froze for a second.

Briony hadn’t expected their daughter to notice, either.

“This finger isn’t real,” Stewart said lightly, not trying to hide the truth but softening it so she wouldn’t be scared. “Isn’t that kind of amazing?”

Little Nina blinked. “Why is your finger fake, Daddy?”

When she woke up, dusk had already fallen. Out in the city, the first pops of fireworks echoed through the streets.

It was New Year’s Eve, and every home was alive with celebration, the sounds of fireworks and laughter filling the air.

Briony brought the twins downstairs. The holiday dinner was already set, just waiting for everyone to gather.

She glanced around. “Stewart’s not back yet?”

“No, it’s nearly seven,” Carol replied, a hint of concern in her voice. “Should I call Mr. Wentworth and check?”

Briony nodded.

Carol spoke politely, “Mr. Wentworth, will you be home for dinner tonight?”

“Alright, I understand.” Carol hung up and turned to Briony. “Mr. Wentworth said he’ll come by later to spend the evening with the kids.”