Goodbye, Mr. Regret

Sheila opened the door, surprised to find Timothy standing there.

"Timothy, come in. Have a seat."

She reached out, ready to steady him, but Timothy sidestepped her hand. "I can walk on my own."

His sudden coldness stung in a way Sheila couldn't quite put into words. Still, she swallowed her discomfort.

"I'll make you some coffee."

"No need. I won't be staying long."

Sheila felt even more at a loss. What was he here for, then?

Timothy settled into the living room armchair. "Sit down."

Uneasy, Sheila perched on the edge of the couch.

Looking directly at her, Timothy got right to the point. "I just stopped by Ines's studio. From her, I learned that the reason she gave that painting, The Grand Canal, Venice, to Henry, was because she saw Jessy's style in one of Henry's papercut illustrations. So, that painting can't stay with you. I'm here to take it back."

Sheila stared at him, stunned.

This was the first time he'd ever asked to take back something he'd given her.

He really was starting to care more about Jessica.

But she didn't argue. "I see. Since it's hard for you to get around, I'll have someone bring it to you later."

have someone pick it up. Also, about Henry calling you his mother in public-please correct him in the future.

Sheila as though

to keep her

"I don't want our family to fall apart. I used to think she could understand our

small, strained smile. "Timothy, it's

not getting any younger. I hope you'll consider getting

her smile

you realize what you're

"I do."

you refuse to accept me, then I'm your aunt—and as your elder, what right do you

equals. But if he refused her now, she had every right, as his aunt, to take the

was with the Howards. She was Sandra and Abell's daughter, Timothy's aunt in

lingered

the first time Sheila had ever used her status as his

his displeasure, she said quietly, "Sorry. We grew up together, almost as equals, so I shouldn't have said that. But I can't help

do you really not remember why I gave up back then? For seven years, I kept my distance, never crossing the line, and you know exactly why. You must

I've racked my brain looking for ways to solve our problem, to bridge what separated us. Why,

broke

from seven years ago—-the one who'd defied his

if we got married, we'd keep it secret-that was your promise, proof of your

"That wasn't love."

Sheila felt herself unraveling.

virgin, never even dated, never experienced the warmth of a lover's embrace. Night after night, she endured