Goodbye, Mr. Regret

Timothy's gaze was dark and unreadable as he stared at her.

A heartbeat later, he grabbed her hand and led her firmly down the hallway.

They rode the elevator in silence, straight to the top floor.

Jessica let herself be pulled along, passive, until they entered the penthouse suite.

Once inside, Timothy pressed her gently down onto the sofa. He crouched in front of her, eyes intense. "Why haven't you been answering your phone?"

His voice was low and a little rough around the edges.

Jessica looked down at him—a man in a perfectly tailored suit, always so composed and charismatic, effortlessly charming. Once, she'd found that impossible to resist.

Now, she had no desire left to love him.

She raised her hand, voice flat. "Didn't feel like it."

An unmistakable shadow of annoyance flickered in Timothy's dark eyes.

"You never used to act like this."

fingers danced dismissively through the air.

you're really set

a hard edge,

scene," she answered quietly, her gaze

frustration. He paced the luxurious carpet, then crouched again in front of

wrong between us," he said, jaw tight. "Seven years

inside his jacket, Timothy pulled out a velvet box, flipped it open, and held it out

I booked a red-eye flight. Saw this brooch at the airport and thought it would suit you. I meant to bring it over, but there was a thunderstorm in Capital City and my flight was delayed. When I finally got your call for help, I—" Timothy stopped. He didn't say that he'd rushed to her side, only to arrive too late. That he'd tried his best, and didn't

she wouldn't hold a petty grudge

softened his tone, almost coaxing her. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. That's on me. But please take

voice

Jessica just gave him

ordered brooches for Sheila-twenty-three of them in total. Today, Sheila wore one; the rest, no doubt, were destined for the

he was offering Jessica one of those castoffs,

over.

his legal wife. Was this what she was worth to him? Only