Goodbye, Mr. Regret novel Chapter 135

To him, she was always optional—there if he felt like it, invisible when he didn't.

On a whim, he might indulge her with a few sweet words. Most of the time, though, she was left to the sidelines, quietly waiting for attention that would never come.

He would run himself ragged for Sheila's career, tirelessly working to open doors for her, while Jessica, as his wife, was expected to tag along—her presence merely another brick in the road to Sheila's success.

But Jessica was done being blind to reality. She was finished with this marriage. It had to end.

He would probably never understand that her heart was made of flesh and blood too, that even she could hurt.

"Timothy, is this really fair?" Ines' voice broke the tense silence. "I actually think she has a point. Jessica, more than anyone, needs the chance to prove herself. If she succeeds, her inability to speak fluently will become an advantage, a testament to how much harder she's had to work. Are you sure you won't let her pursue her own career?"

"It's not that I won't let her," Timothy replied, his voice deep and maddeningly smooth. "Jessica doesn't want to work, and honestly, she doesn't need to. Being Mrs. Lawson isn't enough of a crown already?"

His words, beautiful as they sounded, cut like glass. Jessica wondered if this was what it meant to be killed with kindness—Timothy was a master at it.

On the other end of the room, Sheila chimed in, her tone carrying a hint of bitterness. "You're right, Timothy. Marrying you was already the pinnacle for her. With you to shelter her, she doesn't need to exhaust herself chasing a career."

Timothy heard the edge in Sheila's words, and for a moment, his voice softened. "Don't overthink it," he murmured. "Get some rest. We'll head back to Riverside later."

Sheila gathered her suitcase and said goodbye.

After she left, Timothy returned to the bedroom. Jessica was curled up on the couch, arms wrapped around her knees, the corners of her eyes still red.

He walked over and crouched in front of her, his voice low and rough with fatigue. "I've asked my assistant to book a flight for tonight. Henry's been home alone too long—I'm worried about him. Let's try to get back today."

Without waiting for a response, he scooped her up and laid her gently on the bed, tucking the blanket around her.