Goodbye, Mr. Regret

What else could you call it but self-destruction?

She wanted a divorce, wanted to stop loving him, yet Timothy seemed determined to parade his charm in front of her, as if by sheer persistence he could change her mind. It felt like she ran into him nearly every day.

Jessica met his icy gaze without flinching, her hands still moving expressively. "If you want to dote on someone, go ahead. If you want to forgive someone, that's your business. I don't want it, Timothy. Stop trying to force me."

Doting, forgiving—what did those even mean coming from him?

She nearly laughed. It was all self-important nonsense, wasn't it?

She hadn't felt an ounce of the love or patience he claimed to have for her. All she knew was that he kept someone else in his heart, yet still needed her as a shield. He wouldn't let her go, and every single thing he did only brought her more

misery.

"Jessica." Timothy's voice was dangerously cold, carrying the kind of authority that could freeze you in place. "I married you so you would be my wife. For seven years, you've done your job well. But lately, you've been acting out of line. Keep pushing your luck, and you know life won't be so easy for you."

Jessica sneered, her gestures sharp with sarcasm. "So you're going to treat me like one of your business rivals? Fine. Go ahead. I'm not afraid."

She was dying anyway-what more could he possibly threaten her with?

Timothy's face had gone utterly blank. He straightened in the driver's seat, his elegant hands gripping the wheel, his voice turning even colder: "Get out."

kept up,

He unlocked the doors.

the sound, Jessica pushed the door open and

on the steering

as midnight, stayed fixed on her receding figure in the rearview mirror-so stubborn, not a trace of regret

at the hotel, Jessica opened her toolkit

agreed to keep her hotel a secret and maybe, she thought, he could help her find a way out of this

to break his promise a month

never have

attending

find a

his son.

The next day.

the time Jessica finished the handmade gift she'd prepared for

to the

for window or cabinet decorations. It had found its way into architecture, fashion-anywhere

paper-cut art was another

the West, there were