Goodbye, Mr. Regret

The weather had turned crisp after the harvest moon, a lingering chill in the air.

The water was colder than in summertime-a fine, relentless spray that left Jessica shivering in the tub, goosebumps rising on her skin. She couldn't stop trembling, no matter how hard she tried.

Timothy held her firmly in the bath. Jessica struggled, but he was unmoved, his eyes alight with an angry fire, as if determined to scrub her clean of something he couldn't bear.

Her whole body shook from the cold, damp strands of hair clinging to her forehead and tangling in her lashes.

At last, the water warmed, and Jessica's shivering eased a little, the heat seeping into her limbs. But nothing could reach her heart; it remained frozen.

Noticing her resistance had faded, Timothy seized her wrist, squeezing tight. He pumped liquid soap into his palm and began to scrub her hand, rough and unyielding.

His lips, usually soft and inviting, were pressed into a hard, thin line.

He scrubbed until the back of her hand burned, then grabbed the showerhead and rinsed away the suds.

Suddenly, the bruised, purplish marks around her wrist came into view, glaring against her pale skin. Even the back of her hand was flushed raw.

Timothy's movements stilled.

then did he realize

the tub, expression blank, her

showerhead slipped from Timothy's hand, clattering against the porcelain. He reached for her, pulling

"I'm sorry... I”

caught, raw and uncertain. He'd never laid a hand on a woman before. There had been times when Jessica's words pushed him to the edge, when he'd nearly slapped her, but he always pulled back at the last second, never

he'd hurt

He'd left marks.

Jessica remembered her

at her throat. As she cupped the necklace in her hands, tears spilled

away. It

been racked with

be repaired, and

had softened Timothy's temper vanished

onto her finger, but she'd refused to wear it, choosing instead the necklace Herbert gave her. He hadn't even confronted her about it yet—and now, here she was, clutching Herbert's necklace, crying as if her

grip, his voice low