Goodbye, Mr. Regret

Even now, Timothy trusted Sheila without question.

What else could she believe, after all he'd said?

Whenever it cto Sheila, he never bothered to double-check a thing.

Seven years ago-the one who saved him was her.

She was the one who saw him run into the burning house and, scared out of her mind, chased in after him. He

was struck by a falling beam.

She wasn't from a wealthy family; as a kid, she'd often helped her grandmother around the house, so she was

certainly stronger than Sheila.

Still, even with her strength, she couldn't lift the beam. She had to use a piece of wood as a lever to push it

aside.

It was love and worry for him that gave her the strength to drag him out of the fire.

The faint scar on her palm was a silent witness-left by the rope that cut into her skin and bled as she pulled him

to safety.

Maybe, in the past, she would have told him the truth: that it was she who saved him that night.

Now? She wouldn't stoop so low.

Let Timothy believe it was Sheila. If he wanted Sheila to be his savior, so be it. He saw Sheila as the woman who

saved his life, the one he wanted to marry. If she confessed the truth now, it would only make her own divorce

harder.

"Why don't | believe you?" Jessica's voice was cold but steady. "Because you showedthe truth, Timothy. Even

your son likes her. Out there, everyone thinks Sheila is his mom. The three of you together-you look like a perfect

family. You should just be that: a family. You're not the man you were seven years ago. You have the power now

to break through any obstacle for Sheila. So stop draggingalong. | don't have another seven years to waste

on you."

Timothy's anger twisted in his stomach. "What are you saying? What family? Just because you want a divorce,

you don't care what comes out of your mouth?"

"The law says there's a waiting period for divorce," Jessica said, her tone clipped. "But for me? I've never been

more certain. The first t| asked you for a divorce, I'd already decided to let you go-to let you have the

woman you love. Especially after that day at the school fair, seeing you, Sheila, and Henry—your happy little

trio-1 nearly applauded. You looked perfect together. Didn't you see all the family group chats? Everyone was

congratulating you."

Jessica's words stabbed into Timothy's throat like thorns.

"l already explained," he said, strained. "That day, at the family event, your phone was off when | called. You

were late. Sheila just happened to be with me."

"Enough," Jessica cut him off. "If you were late, you could've sent someone else, but when people mistook her

for Mrs. Lawson, for Henry's mom, you could've corrected them. Why didn't you?"

Timothy wanted to explain, but the words felt hollow. The truth was, he hadn't corrected anyone's assumptions.

He pressed on, stubborn. "It was a tough situation. You know how

much Henry wanted us to go as a family. And I've always kept my reputation clean-never any scandals. | thought

you'd

understand."

Jessica almost laughed in disbelief. She hadn't even wanted to go to the event. It was only for Henry's sake that

she agreed.

Before that day, she and her son had been close. Afterward, Henry changed-he grew distant, embarrassed by his

mute mother.

If Timothy hadn't allowed it, their son would never have dismissed her so easily.

"Timothy, how do you even have the

nerve?” Jessica retorted. "Just because | gave Herbert a handmade picture frame, you made a scene about me

and him. If | took Herbert out and people thought he was Henry's father, | wouldn't deny it. Can | tell you, then,

that keep my reputation spotless-would you understand?"

Timothy's lips moved, but he couldn't find the words.

If she stayed silent, fine. But when she spoke up, she was relentless. He'd always

thought of himself as a good communicator, but she left him speechless.

He tried desperately to defend himself. "It's not the same."

"Oh? So you're allowed to light the candle, but | can't strike a match?"

"Jessy, | just want to talk. I'm not trying to fight with you."

"Move. | have nothing left to say. Don't push me. If you do, | won't care about

Vince's sister anymore; let him deal with you himself."

The message was clear: she'd walk away from this family, from him.

Timothy hesitated, then changed the subject. "Fine. | won't argue about this. But saw you leaving The

Silverthread Eatery, chasing after a car. | was worried-was there. someone in that car you were looking for?"

[e'

Jessica's expression changed instantly. "Stay out of it. Don't meddle in my business."

She had no intention of getting tangled up with him again, and she certainly didn't want him scaring off the

person she was after.

"Can't you just be a little more careful?" Timothy pressed, exasperated. "What if

you get hurt? What are you hiding from me?"

Jessica's patience snapped. "Do you know how infuriating you are?"

She didn't want to waste a single extra word on him.

What else could he do but disappoint her-anger her?

She used to be gentle; he'd never seen her lose her temper before.

Now she was truly angry, and he knew better than to push her further. If she stormed out, he'd lose her for good.

At least, for now, she was still at home. She was still his wife. There was still tleft—a sliver of hope to win her

back.

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