Goodbye, Mr. Regret

He got up and headed to the study to write the invitations.

Timothy took out his fountain pen and finished the first wedding invitation. His handwriting was steady and bold, each letter confident and clear.

The two names sat side by side on the card-his and hers. It was just how he wanted it.

Over an hour later, Secretary Allen arrived. When he stepped into the study, he found Timothy still at the desk, filling out more invitations for his and his wife's wedding.

The sight left Secretary Allen a bit embarrassed. Even though the wedding decorations hadn't been called off yet, Mrs. Lawson had stopped talking to President Lawson altogether. What was the point of writing all these invitations?

He couldn't help but sigh inwardly.

"President Lawson, the photographs just arrived. There's glue in the box as well." "Alright, thank you. I'll take care of it."

Secretary Allen hesitated before asking, "Should we... call off the wedding arrangements?"

Timothy's pen froze. He looked up, his gaze icy and sharp as it landed on Secretary Allen.

Allen immediately dropped his eyes. "I have some things to take care of excuse me," he mumbled, then hurried out of the room.

Timothy lowered his head and continued writing.

When he finished, he carefully attached their photo in the slot reserved for it inside each invitation.

They looked good together.

missing was a

he'd suggested they fly overseas to take wedding pictures. Multiple gowns were already reserved, the studio was booked, everything was set-but she refused to go. He'd been so angry then, he swore he'd

set of pictures

she'd only worn a veil and a simple white blouse, yet she looked beautiful. He couldn't help but

invitations and handed a stack of birthday invitations to Mabel. "Find someone with good handwriting to fill these out," he

the young master's birthday?"

Do we have a guest

same guest list

"Understood, sir."

Timothy

the study, picked up the invitations,

his mind?

yet here he is, fussing over invitations for a wedding on

does he plan

to the Zimmerman estate. As his car came to a stop, he saw

to him and grabbed his arm. "Is

shook his head, looking anxious. "Mr. Zimmerman went for a walk, but he collapsed outside. Someone called an ambulance-he's been taken to the hospital. Lust got the call and was about

you," Timothy

go myself. Mr. Zimmerman was very clear-no help from the

into a waiting car

deeply, then got into his own car and followed