Goodbye, Mr. Regret

Jessica opened the door and stepped out.

Timothy was on the phone. The moment he saw her, he ended the call without hesitation.

"Changed your mind?" he asked.

"I'll agree to stay here for a week," Jessica replied, her voice steady. "But I want my bag back."

He'd told her that as long as she stayed with him for this one week, she could do whatever she wanted. Only when she left this island would she have a real

chance to get away.

Timothy said nothing.

She had to press on. "You can keep my ID and passport if you're that paranoid. But I need my bag. Give it back."

Timothy didn't answer. Instead, he walked to the dressing room and came out carrying a brand-new designer bag.

"If you want to carry a bag, I bought you a new one."

Jessica stared at the bag in his hand, its price tag probably enough to buy a small house, her brow furrowing in frustration.

She reached out and took it.

That seemed to please Timothy, a faint smile touching his lips.

In the next instant, she hurled the bag at his chest, her anger barely contained.

"I want my bag. Can't you understand? If you expect me to spend this week with you without losing my mind, then do as I say!"

She was on the verge of breaking down.

How could she have fallen in love with a man like this?

Learning that he'd almost married Sheila, that Sheila was the one he truly loved- those revelations had cut her deeply, but even then, she'd never lost control like this.

For seven years, she'd willingly trapped herself in this love, giving him her whole life.

But now, being manipulated like this, she was coming apart at the seams.

She couldn't calm herself. Despair burned in her eyes as she glared at him. "Do you realize I could die?"

Tears welled up, stinging her eyes, but she stubbornly refused to let them fall.

Her emotions were rawer than ever, and Timothy felt as if an invisible rope was tightening around his heart.

understand what she meant by

to soothe her. "I didn't bring your

Jessica felt hollow, defeated.

of refinement so

understood a single

bag. She

was something she needed-something that

slowly backing away from him,

then: when pain reached its limit,

limit, all

near-broken state sent Timothy

pulling her into

"Jessy, don't scare me."

hands were warm as he stroked her back, desperate

you really want your bag, I'll send someone to get it

How laughable.

rather send someone else than let her leave, even

Jessica shoved him away.

don't want

"Timothy."

stay with

to go,

want,

won't fight.

lovely eyes were empty now, stripped of all

is yours. Seven years, or forever.

know yet-why only seven

running out for

been given a death sentence-only six months

If she

heat she could be

Lovelet

But the new her would

She agreed.

even taken a night for her to give

joy, not even for

of his veins were being pulled taut,

cut into flesh.

he forced himself to remain calm,

she stayed, that was

decided to go