Goodbye, Mr. Regret

The atmosphere was tense, to say the least.

Yates, stuck between the two men, felt the awkwardness settle on his shoulders like a heavy coat.

Thankfully, the arrival of the waiter with their food offered a brief reprieve, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

"Let's eat," Yates suggested, trying to sound upbeat.

Neither of the other men moved even a muscle.

They hadn't come here for the meal, and it was obvious.

Yates glanced at Timothy, then at Vince. He had no idea what had transpired the night before, so he assumed Vince was at fault-coveting Timothy's wife,

perhaps. Hoping to smooth things over, Yates shot Vince a discreet look, urging him to say something, to take the first step.

They were friends, after all. In Yates's mind, no matter how big the problem, it could be talked down, brushed aside, and life would move on.

But Vince didn't even acknowledge him.

Instead, it was Timothy who spoke first. "Where is she?"

Yates stared at Timothy, startled.

earth

was biting. "Aren't you supposed to be

arranged for Jessica to stay at a hotel owned by The Zimmerman Group, but left no record of

to intervene, "Vince, let's not

I was the one who made the

wife, yet Timothy wasn't even angry.

this will only

if Vince had stabbed him in the back, Timothy didn't seem to

genuinely believed

Vince had taken Jessica away, Timothy wouldn't be

happened last night wasn't

had things spiraled so far out of control? Maybe it had just been too long. Maybe he'd

her too much...

Do you honestly think

advice? Get a

"Would you just listen

hand, signaling Yates

gaze locked on Vince. "I'm not getting

up to you anymore?