Goodbye, Mr. Regret

Jessica's fingers tightened ever so slightly around the knife.

What was the point of his words now-did he expect her to be moved?

Sorry. That wasn't going to happen.

Timothy caught sight of her listless eyes and the glint of metal in her grip. His voice came low and rough. "About last night... I'm sorry. I lost control."

He sounded calm, almost gentle, as if he wanted to reach out and soothe the bruises he'd left on her cheek.

Jessica lifted her gaze, meeting Timothy's deep, ocean-blue eyes. A mirthless smile tugged at her lips.

Their marriage was unraveling, inching toward its end.

He played the same game over and over, each time cutting her heart open, letting it bleed anew.

Jessica's cold, bitter smile sliced right through Timothy.

He'd gone too far last night.

"It was my fault, I admit it, Jessy..." Suddenly, Timothy caught her hand, pried the knife from her loose grip, and tossed it aside. He crouched down in front of her, guiding her hand to his cheek. "Go ahead. Hit me. Don't stop until you're not angry anymore, okay?"

Though he pressed her hand to his face, her fingers stayed limp, barely grazing his

at him, detached, as if nothing about this

thick with emotion. "It's been so long since we've been close. I just... I missed you. I missed you

meant to hurt her

for her had started the moment she went to take her shower last night, burning hotter with every minute at Moonstrand

bottle of whiskey, not even a

to make things right, desperate to hold her gently, to coax her back to

even say how things had gone so wrong in the

nothing. Only

the corner of her mouth. The memory of

Her name rolled off his tongue, deep and warm-his voice the same

called her

the throes of passion, would

again. But

for her face, wanting to comfort her, to ask

flinching from his touch like a startled bird.