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.

her, fussing about her

settling Sheila into the exam room,

about her own throat exam. Herbert nodded, understanding her worry,

give you some medication

Jessica nodded in agreement.

her the

clear she

to feed Herbert empty stories about loving Timothy or refusing a divorce. She'd

at this point, even if she wanted

Timothy holding Sheila like that, even the blind could see

enough not to mention Timothy's behavior with another woman. There was no point in wounding

right, you go on home," he said gently.

for the medication, Herbert

still in the exam room, Timothy emerged and tracked down a doctor to ask about

on

"Come in," Herbert called.

opened, and Herbert looked up-only to

couldn't help but let out a short, mirthless

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