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."

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

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

the holiday is my birthday. Bring Jessica

"Alright."

had raised

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

sent a message

care where you are right now-you need to be

see the message until the next morning.

the stern patriarch of a wealthy family. His

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

Lawson, she always did her best-showing respect and patience to every member of

once Sheila entered the picture, Phelps' two major emotional

nothing more than a tool to

old man's plans had

capable of

Everything was becoming clearer.