Goodbye, Mr. Regret

Jessica stepped out of Herbert's car.

Herbert got out as well, slipping his hands into the pockets of his trench coat. He watched her go, his expression soft, his gaze lingering as she walked toward the house.

She'd barely taken a few steps when his voice called out, quiet but clear. "Little Mute."

Jessica turned back.

Herbert's lips parted, as if he'd meant to say something else, but he simply said, "Goodnight."

Jessica smiled and signed goodnight in sign language.

Herbert stood there, motionless, watching until she disappeared inside.

Upstairs, Timothy pinched his cigarette between his fingers, snapping it in half. The glowing tip scattered sparks onto the floor. He turned off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness.

Ding-

Jessica keyed in her code. The door swung open. She hadn't even reached for the light switch when strong arms swept her inside, pinning her against the door as someone's lips crashed onto hers.

A faint scent of tobacco, edged with cedar, filled her senses.

It took only a moment for her to realize it was Timothy.

She tried to pull away, but he'd already trapped her wrists, his grip iron-strong, his body pressing her immobile.

nowhere to

cool wood biting through her clothes, chilling her to the

possessive, his heated breath mingling with hers, as if he wanted to consume

skin. Jessica's nerves sparked at his every movement, her body trembling

up. Tears pricked at her

couldn't speak. Her resistance, feeble against his strength,

to cup Timothy's face with both hands, he seemed to think

But then-crack.

open palm landed hard against

snapped to the side, a few pale fingerprints blooming on his skin. Whatever desperate need

reached out and flicked on the

her arms over her chest, her breath coming in shaky gasps. Her tear-filled eyes glared at Timothy, raw and

for some wrinkles in his suit jacket, looked every bit the composed man

tears, her silent accusation hanging

a long moment, Timothy's voice broke the silence, cold and flat. "What, I can't even touch

spent the night with

the two of them. Who

divorce. How could he expect her

shirt was already missing buttons, torn by

furious, her movements sharp as she signed angrily, I told you-I want a

curling his lips. "Don't test