Goodbye, Mr. Regret

To him, she was always optional—there if he felt like it, invisible when he didn't.

On a whim, he might indulge her with a few sweet words. Most of the time, though, she was left to the sidelines, quietly waiting for attention that would never

come.

He would run himself ragged for Sheila's career, tirelessly working to open doors for her, while Jessica, as his wife, was expected to tag along-her presence merely another brick in the road to Sheila's success.

But Jessica was done being blind to reality. She was finished with this marriage. It had to end.

He would probably never understand that her heart was made of flesh and blood too, that even she could hurt.

"Timothy, is this really fair?" Ines' voice broke the tense silence. "I actually think she has a point. Jessica, more than anyone, needs the chance to prove herself. If she succeeds, her inability to speak fluently will become an advantage, a testament to how much harder she's had to work. Are you sure you won't let her pursue her own career?"

"It's not that I won't let her," Timothy replied, his voice deep and maddeningly smooth. "Jessica doesn't want to work, and honestly, she doesn't need to. Being Mrs. Lawson isn't enough of a crown already?"

His words, beautiful as they sounded, cut like glass. Jessica wondered if this was what it meant to be killed with kindness-Timothy was a master at it.

other end of the room, Sheila chimed in, her tone carrying a hint of bitterness. "You're right, Timothy. Marrying you was already the

edge in Sheila's words, and for a moment, his voice softened. "Don't overthink it," he murmured. "Get some rest. We'll

suitcase and said

returned to the bedroom. Jessica was curled up on the couch, arms wrapped around her knees, the

his voice low and rough with fatigue. "I've asked my assistant to book a flight for tonight. Henry's been home alone too

up and laid her gently

removed his jacket and suit with careful, practiced

to

lips pressed into a thin line. In the next second, he reached out, pulled her into his arms, and held

he commanded, his tone brooking no

He was exhausted.

he had no interest in anything but rest. He hadn't slept well in days, and he just

embrace, unable to move. She didn't want to look so small and defeated in front of him—but

tired, because within minutes, his breathing slowed