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.

all. We only met once,"

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

voice steady but icy, "why are you actually calling

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 way, I can try to talk

a little apologetic. After all, what

were glacial. "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

whenever you want, and toss me aside just as easily. And

would dare talk to him this

get away with whatever he pleased. That was something Jessica had in common

solutions," Vince pressed on. "She's your wife, not someone else's. A real man knows how to be patient and considerate. That's how

felt like he

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

each other across the table? How about this —after the party, I'll tell her you made such a big sacrifice