Goodbye, Mr. Regret

"The press claims they've spotted your mysterious wife..."

Timothy paused, a flicker of something complicated in his sharp eyes.

He was no longer the same Timothy who'd grown up alongside her. Years of navigating the business world had left him more composed, more inscrutable than

ever.

Sheila realized she could no longer read him the way she once did.

After a moment, he finally replied, his voice even. "It doesn't matter."

Sheila blinked, momentarily thrown. Did he really not care at all?

She tried again, gently. "But Jessica is your wife."

"She has the marriage certificate. If that piece of paper can't give her peace of mind, then she's being rather foolish, isn't she?"

Sheila hesitated, thinking it over. "Alright then. I just didn't want her to overthink. That's all I wanted to say. You should get some rest."

"Mm."

Timothy said nothing more, and Sheila quietly left the room.

He lit a cigarette, his gaze falling to the velvet box on the table. Rising, he tucked the box away in his suitcase.

Just then, his phone rang.

crossed to the nightstand and picked it

It was Phelps.

"Grandpa."

family visited the old house. Why don't you come home for the

the edge of the bed, phone pressed to his ear. "I took Henry

my birthday. Bring Jessica and Henry home, will you? I've been

"Alright."

had raised Timothy

for that one falling-out seven years ago, their bond had

call, Timothy sent a message to

is Grandpa's birthday. He wants your chicken soup. I don't care where you are right

She didn't see the message

him as the stern patriarch of a

Timothy's. She'd never dared hope the Lawson

always did her best-showing respect

two major

nothing more than

bad the old

of holding on to Timothy's

Everything was becoming clearer.