Goodbye, Mr. Regret

When Timothy saw Vince calling again, his eyes darkened; he tossed his phone aside in annoyance.

After a while, he reached for the phone and finally answered.

"Timothy, I got in touch with Jessica," Vince began.

Timothy's voice was cold and low. "Is she going to the party?"

"She refused."

"So you want me to help convince her?"

"No, no, it's not that," Vince hastily clarified. "She texted me, said you two are getting divorced."

Timothy's knuckles whitened as he gripped the phone tighter.

"She's that close to you?" he asked.

We only met once," Vince replied, his

she felt comfortable enough to spill news about their divorce. Clearly, she wanted to make things awkward

said, his voice steady but icy, "why are you

since you two are getting divorced, she doesn't want to show up at the party with you. So... how about you just don't come the day after tomorrow? Pretend I never invited you, act like you never heard about Grandpa's birthday. That

to sound diplomatic, even a little apologetic. After all, what he was suggesting was awkward, and

"Vince, you've got

just this once. You know how picky my granddad is. It's not easy to find an artist who does the kind of paper cutting he loves. I'm just asking

me aside

Vince would dare talk to

had been far too tolerant of him, letting Vince get away with whatever he pleased. That was something Jessica

someone else's. A real man knows how to be patient and considerate. That's how you keep your wife happy-otherwise,

like he could barely

piss me off. Is it because I didn't snap at you two years ago? You think I'm

What, you want you and Jessica to show up, both scowling at each other across the table? How about this —after the party, I'll tell her you made such a big sacrifice by not coming. Maybe she'll be touched