Goodbye, Mr. Regret

"Henry's parents are such a perfect pair."

"No kidding-handsome dad, gorgeous mom. No wonder Henry's such a cute kid himself."

"Honestly, that family of three is enough to make anyone jealous."

Scrolling through those comments, Jessica felt nothing anymore. The emotions that once would have stung her heart had faded into numbness. What lingered was only a dull ache for the woman she used to be a woman who gave everything without reservation. Her eyes stung, tears pricking at the corners, threatening to spill over.

A sharp pain twisted in her abdomen, and cold sweat beaded on her forehead.

Mabel, the housekeeper, noticed something was wrong and hurried over. "Ma'am, are you feeling alright? Should I take you to the hospital?"

Jessica shook her head and quickly typed a message on her phone: "I'm fine. I just need to rest for a bit."

"Are you sure?"

Jessica nodded and tried to give a reassuring smile.

She got up, poured herself a glass of water, and slipped into the bedroom. From her bag, she took out the medication the doctor had prescribed for conservative treatment and swallowed a few pills as instructed.

Setting the glass aside, she glanced up at the wedding photo hanging on the wall —a blown-up image from their marriage registration. She had wanted to take proper wedding portraits for their new home, but Timothy had refused, claiming he disliked having his picture taken. If she really wanted a wedding photo, he'd said, she could just enlarge the registration photo. So, after seven years of marriage, that single, formal snapshot was the only photo of them together.

Timothy had taken dozens

want photos with her. For seven years, she'd clung to

not anymore. Tonight, she would tear away this

when the sound of a car engine drifted in from

few minutes later, Mabel called out, "Ma'am, sir and young

no intention of telling Timothy about the cancer. Even if she did, he

slender frame, the silvery fabric catching the light with a cold sheen. He lifted his chin

her fair skin, and he realized how often he'd missed

steady and inscrutable. His voice was calm, almost gentle. "We have a guest. Will you

stepped

soundly,

home. Bold as you

stood frozen in place. Mabel, sensing the tension, didn't

sleeve. "Timothy, you're married. Your wife is here. It wouldn't be right for me to stay. I was

way Sheila spoke-as if

arms and turned to