Goodbye, Mr. Regret novel Chapter 191

They all ran in the same circles, so Ines had, of course, heard rumors about this woman.

What she hadn't expected was that the team had managed to survive all this time thanks to Jessica's financial support.

Jessica continued her gentle deception, using sign language to deliver a white lie: "I don't want Timothy to know about this, so… could you keep the money for me for now?"

Ines agreed without hesitation, promising to keep the secret safe.

As Jessica left Ines's studio, she couldn't help thinking—if, when she was a child, she and her grandmother could have sold their paper cuttings for this kind of money, maybe her grandmother wouldn't have died so young.

Back in that tiny town, they never had access to anyone from high society. They had no idea there were people out there who collected paper art, let alone paid such a high price for it.

Jessica's heart felt unbearably heavy.

Her grandmother had done everything she could to cure Jessica's voice, sacrificing so much in the process.

On her deathbed, her grandmother was wracked with guilt—not for dying, but because she hadn't been able to cure Jessica's mutism, because she would never again hear Jessica call her "Gran."

All these years, Jessica had longed to speak.

Once she started earning her own money, she'd gone to see doctors.

Every appointment ended in disappointment.

Later, she married Timothy.

During those years when she loved Timothy and Henry most, she'd secretly sought out doctors again.

If only she could talk, she would have told them—face-to-face—that she loved them.

But maybe it was a blessing, after all, that she'd never spoken those words out loud.

Otherwise, how much more humiliating would it be now?

A few minutes ago, Ines had mentioned Mr. Smith's movie role, and said he could recommend some foreign specialists.

Should she try again?

A taxi pulled up. Jessica pushed her thoughts away and climbed in.

"To The Lawson Group, please."

When the cab stopped at the entrance, Jessica didn't go in right away. She'd seen enough business dramas to know that regular people never just waltzed into a place like this and demanded to see the CEO.

She couldn't speak, and nobody at the company knew she was Mrs. Lawson. If she tried to explain herself to the receptionist, she'd probably be laughed right out the door.

Last time, even the school security guard had accused her of pretending to be Mrs. Lawson.

She wasn't about to humiliate herself again.

Instead, she texted Timothy: