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

It was Phelps.

"Grandpa."

your family visited the old house. Why don't you come home for the autumn holiday?

sat back on the edge of the bed, phone pressed to his ear. "I took Henry on a

holiday is my birthday. Bring Jessica

"Alright."

had raised

years ago, their bond had always been

the call, Timothy sent a

are right now-you need to be

didn't see the message until the next

seen him as the stern patriarch of a wealthy family. His strictness

from Timothy's. She'd never dared hope the Lawson family would truly accept

always did her best-showing respect and patience to every

the picture, Phelps' two major emotional outbursts

more than a tool

old

was never capable of

Everything was becoming clearer.