Stewart walked over and settled into the armchair across from her.


    His deep-set eyes lingered on her. His voice was low, measured. "When are youing home?"


    "Home?" Briony let out a coldugh. "Stewart, do you really think there''s still a home for you and me?"


    "We''re not divorced." Stewart''s face was unreadable. "It''s been a week. Don''t you think it''s time to let things go?"


    Briony almostughed at the absurdity.


    "Stewart, in your mind, did you really think I spent thest four years hiding away in that old town just to spite you?"


    The sarcasm in her voice was unmistakable.


    He pressed his fingers against his brow, as if fighting off a headache. "What do you want, Briony? What will it take for you toe back?"


    "I have a steady life here," she shot back. "I''m surrounded by people who love me, real friends and family. I don''t have to look over my shoulder, worried Rosita will try to ruin me, all because of you. Why would I go back? To be someone''s victim again?"


    Stewart''s mouth tightened. After a moment, he said, "At least do it for the kids. Little Nina can''t spend her whole life in a tiny town like this. If youe back to Northborough, I''ll make sure she has the very best."


    "The best?" Briony''sugh was sharp. "Do you mean the privileges of the Wentworth family? Or are you talking about your precious inheritance?"


    She scoffed. "Don''t forget, Stewart-you have Irwin. He''s always been your favorite, your one true heir to the Wentworth name."


    "Irwin''s existence doesn''t threaten Little Nina." Stewart''s gaze was steady, his tone serious. "I''ll be fair to both children."


    "And you think those words are supposed to move me?" Briony retorted, her voice ice-cold.


    "Briony..." Stewart looked at her, then sighed. "Irwin''s asked about you a lot these past four years. You misunderstood his background before, but I''ve exined everything. You raised him from infancy. After all this time, don''t you miss him?"


    Briony stared at him in disbelief. How could Stewart even say such a thing out loud?


    "You talk about this," she said, her hand clenching tight on her knee, "but have you ever thought about my son?"


    Stewart flinched.


    Briony''s re was searing. "Ret


    killed my son! You protected I


    fine! But now you have the nerve


    use her child to guilt me? Stewart, are you even human?"


    "I''ve already made sure Rosita and Irwin have no contact," Stewart replied, his


    eyes lowered. "She''s not fit to be his mother."


    "Whether she is or not is none of my concern! All know is, Irwin is the son of my child''s murderer. Don''t you dare expect me to treat him like my own! You should be grateful he has a father like you, because if not, I honestly don''t know what I''d do to him for my son''s sake!"


    "It was my negligence that cost our son his life. I won''t deny it. But I promised Irwin''s father I''d take care of them..."


    Stewart closed his eyes, his words heavy. "I''m sorry, Rosita. I can''t go back on my word."


    "You can''t?" Briony let out a brokenugh, but tears welled in her eyes.


    "Fine. You''re so honorable, so loyal to your word, you''d sacrifice your own child for someone else''s promise. Stewart, you''re really something."


    Her clenched fist shook as waves of grief and fury crashed over her. She could barely breathe, thinking of her son''s unjust death.


    "But Stewart, your debt to Randolph Driscoll is your business. Why did my son have to pay the price?"


    "I took care of Irwin for five years. You called it a transaction, something we both needed. Fine, I epted that."


    "But my son''s life is not some bargaining chip for your gratitude! If you want me to forgive Rosita, then go ask our son if he would''ve agreed!"


    Stewart dropped his gaze, his lips pressed in a tight line. In the end, he said nothing at all.