Goodbye, Mr. Regret

The house felt cold and empty.

At least Mabel greeted them, stepping forward to take Timothy's coat and bag, hanging them up with practiced care.

Timothy frowned slightly.

"Where's my wife?"

"She's upstairs, in her room."

His brow furrowed deeper. "Has she eaten?"

"Mrs. Carter said she wasn't hungry..."

Timothy didn't hesitate. He went straight upstairs and opened the bedroom door. Jessica sat at her desk, a pair of scissors in hand, focused on cutting out delicate patterns from a piece of paper.

He walked over. Jessica didn't even look up at the sound of his footsteps.

Leaning against the desk, Timothy gazed down at her. "So, you're not making dinner, and you're not eating either?"

Jessica continued snipping the paper, blatantly ignoring him.

burn of frustration flared in Timothy's chest. Lately, everything felt as if it were slipping out of

dropped, shadowed with

set the scissors down, picked up a stack of papers from beside

*Divorce Agreement* stared back at him, sharp

the papers in his fist

tone crisp. "You'd throw away a perfectly good life. What

her movements sharp. *What is a

life' a husband who's always away on business, who brings another woman to parent-teacher day and

hung, her hands still moving. *Or is

followed her eyes to the empty space

meeting Jessica's cool, clear

faint smile curved Timothy's lips, and his voice softened. "Jealous, are

Just moments ago, she'd been ready for a fight, expecting their argument to end with him storming out-a perfect prelude

But she recovered quickly.

change the subject,* she signed, her gestures slower

voice gentler than before. "I'm the one who took down the photo. You wanted proper wedding pictures,