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."

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

bed, phone

last day of the holiday is my birthday. Bring Jessica and Henry

"Alright."

raised

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

the call, Timothy sent

chicken soup. I don't care where you are right now-you

asleep. She didn't see the message

him as the stern patriarch of a wealthy family. His strictness never bothered

was worlds apart from Timothy's. She'd never dared hope the

did her best-showing respect and patience

major emotional outbursts had made one

eyes, she was nothing more

old man's plans had

of holding on to

Everything was becoming clearer.