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.

closed behind

he could 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 on the coffee table in front of the sofa,

Henry would

crossed to her desk, pulled out a scrapbook filled with paper-cut illustrations, and

flipped open

Vince saw her

Jessica read through

were pictures of her and Henry

at his bedside when

of them napping together in

watching TV, Henry planting a kiss on

So many memories.

her back

things Henry was old enough to remember,

picture of the two of them working on

overheard Henry telling Sheila he wanted to

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

He remembered.

the end, he gave his first completed book

tear fell onto