Goodbye, Mr. Regret

Did she really have to show up every time they needed her, just because they needed her?

"Fine. Suit yourself. I'm hanging up now."

Vince stepped out of the bedroom, water glass in hand, intent on refilling it. He paused when he saw the kitchen light was still on.

The air was thick with the warm, buttery aroma of something baking—a blend of milk and eggs.

He walked quietly to the kitchen doorway and found Jessica standing at the counter, deftly spreading frosting over a cake.

She was making a cake?

Today was Henry's birthday.

She remembered.

Vince lingered in the shadows, keeping his distance.

About half an hour later, Jessica emerged from the kitchen, carrying the cake.

It was small-maybe six inches across-but carefully decorated, the creamy swirls on top forming a delicate pattern.

Vince watched her from behind a wall, hidden, silent.

He expected Jessica to box up the cake and take it to the hospital. Instead, she carried it straight back to her room.

Vince trailed her upstairs.

door closed behind

do was slip outside, making his way to the balcony outside Jessica's bedroom. From the far corner, separated by the glass, he watched as she set the cake

Henry would have turned

filled with

open

saw her dabbing at

time, Jessica read through every

were pictures of her and Henry

vigil at his bedside when he was sick, never leaving

of them napping together

TV, Henry planting

So many memories.

paper-cut image tugged her back

things Henry was old enough to remember, he'd captured-painstakingly, vividly, with scissors and colored

picture of the two of them working on paper-cuts

when she overheard Henry telling Sheila he

when he could finish a book all by himself, he'd give her

He remembered.

in the end, he gave

tear fell onto