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

clear-she was no longer satisfied

meant to force him to

forward, closing the distance

air, as if a thin frost

"Do you really not want to work?" "No. No. No!" Jessica signed

refused to throw herself, warm and vulnerable, against

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

her heart shatter

expected her to go to her mentor-to recommend his

a man have to be, to

"I'll do

it?" he said, the

had a reasonable request, he wasn't above granting

everything-money, gifts, status. She hadn't even lifted a finger, and just by catching his eye, she'd become Mrs. Lawson,

"Divorce."

with the same steely

away. He pressed his

spun back to