Goodbye, Mr. Regret

Chapter 439

He couldn't afford to back himself into a corner.

So he stepped aside and let her pass.

Jessica swept into the room, her heels clicking against the hardwood. With a sharp bang, she slammed the door shut behind her.

A wave of helplessness washed over Timothy.

He remembered how easily she'd agreed to marry him all those years ago. Back then, winning her hand had been effortless. She'd always been so quiet, so undemanding-until she lost her temper. When she did, coaxing her back was nearly impossible.

Ever since she started this latest argument, he hadn't managed to comfort her, not even once.

The only time she'd softened was on her birthday, and even then, it lasted just a couple of days before she stormed out again.

Frustrated and restless, Timothy left The Gilded Whisper Estates and got into his car. He pulled out his phone and called Yates Bryant.

"Want to get a drink?" Yates chuckled. "Are you out of your mind? It's not dinner, it's not even evening-it's the middle of the afternoon. Shouldn't we be having tea, not whiskey?"

"I need a drink," Timothy replied.

"Well, I don't," Yates said flatly. "Not in the mood."

"I'm in a lousy mood. Can't you keep me company, just this once?"

Something in Timothy's voice made it clear he was at a low point.

Yates sighed. "Fine, fine. Since you're about to get dumped, I'll do you a favor and join you."

"Anywhere you want. My treat.”

"How about The Velvet Ivy? I'm nearby."

Timothy instructed his driver to head to The Velvet Ivy. The place was across town, so it took nearly half an hour to get there. As they neared the entrance, Timothy sent Yates a quick text.

that he was already waiting in a private

Velvet Ivy, Timothy stepped out-and immediately spotted the Bentley Jessica had been chasing earlier that

owner was here,

pulled out his phone and called

you to check a license plate for me," Timothy said, rattling off

the same time, Jessica was messaging Vince, asking him to look into

car.

Timothy

leaned heavily on his cane as he entered the private suite. Yates glanced

days since the

as it could have been. Four to eight weeks on crutches, the doctor said, but

"So, what's got you

said with a

I can't win an argument with

wasn't just that—she actually had a point,

can talk? She's not

"Some trauma when she was

a doctor who could help her?" Yates asked, handing over

Timothy's face clouded. "No."

recovered on

"Yeah," Timothy said quietly.

his glass. "Your leg's not healed yet. Are you sure you should be drinking? Maybe we should just have a

little. Helps with the

glass, but before he could take a sip, Yates shook his head. "You're something else, you know that? She lost

to help me forget my troubles. Why are

other forever, I'm not here to sugarcoat things and make you

Timothy's and took a

a moment. "You've got perspective. Tell me, what can I do to make her

looked him up and down. "You want the truth or

"Of course I

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