Goodbye, Mr. Regret

Or maybe, after all these years of living as a wealthy socialite, she'd simply grown too used to a life of comfort and privilege too unwilling to go back to working

hard.

That had to be it.

All that talk about divorce, about being able to support herself, about making delicate paper cuttings and drinking cheap bottled water-it was all just a show for his benefit, a ploy to get his attention.

No wonder, this time, she'd left Henry sick at home, and came alone to Capital City without asking his permission.

That comic-style painting of *The Grand Canal, Venice*-she'd seen it in their house before. She must have kept quiet about it, saving it for this very moment.

If Ines was her mentor, how could Jessica not be following Ines's recent exhibitions?

He realized, with a jolt, that he'd never truly understood his silent little wife.

So calculating. So composed.

For seven years, everything between them had been quiet and uneventful. He'd thought she was content being his dutiful, behind-the-scenes wife.

All because he hadn't taken her to that school event for parents and children.

That's when it started.

hadn't

was clear-she was no longer satisfied with being

were meant to force him

stepped forward, closing the distance

if a

"No. No. No!" Jessica signed it out three times, emphatic and unyielding. Seven years. She couldn't

warm and vulnerable, against the cold,

then you'll be Mrs. Lawson-show up, smile, follow my lead. And while you're at it, tell Ines you'll never be working. Oh, and do her a favor-recommend Sheila as her

heart shatter

actually expected her to go

a man have to be, to say

furiously at him. "I'll do it. But you have

he said, the edge still in his

reasonable request, he wasn't above granting it.

lifted a finger, and just by catching his eye, she'd become Mrs. Lawson, the most

"Divorce."

the word with the same steely resolve

sharply, turning away. He pressed his tongue against his

back to her, staring Jessica