Goodbye, Mr. Regret

The moment Timothy caught sight of Herbert standing protectively beside Jessica, his lips pressed into a hard, bloodless line.

Herbert, of course, noticed Timothy as well.

Timothy didn't bother hiding how intimately he held the woman in his arms; even when running into his own wife, he made no attempt to keep up appearances.

It was outrageous.

Without another glance at Timothy, Jessica turned toward Herbert and quietly signed, "Let's go."

She acted as if Timothy didn't exist.

Both Timothy and Sheila understood Jessica's sign language.

Sheila, a beat behind everyone else, finally spoke up. "Timothy, Jessica's right here. You can put me down now."

Her voice was still rough and low from the strain.

"Don't talk. Protect your voice," Timothy replied, his tone clipped but concerned.

Jessica and Herbert were already heading toward the exam room when Timothy's words drifted to her ears.

Sheila had undergone surgery on her vocal cords. The fact that she could now do voice-overs for her cartoons meant her recovery was complete.

Timothy hovered over her, fussing about her throat as if it were

Sheila into the

Herbert she didn't want Timothy knowing about her own throat exam. Herbert nodded, understanding

you some medication to help with recovery-herbal supplements, nothing that'll cause

Jessica nodded in agreement.

her the

clear she had no desire

this; Jessica no longer wanted to feed Herbert empty stories about loving Timothy or

this point, even if she wanted to keep

that, even the

Herbert was tactful enough not to mention Timothy's behavior with another woman. There was no

go on home," he said gently. "We'll

instructions for the medication,

in the exam room, Timothy emerged and tracked down a doctor

knocked on

"Come in," Herbert called.

looked up-only to

but let out

that very first day he saw Jessica—Little Mute, as he called her-standing with him in the square, watching Timothy