Pain.
Of course it hurt.
But he couldn’t live without a wife.
A man without a wife—how pitiful is that?
He understood it now.
Whatever it took, he had to win Jessica back during this time—no matter what.
Seven years of marriage had taught him she truly loved him.
He didn’t believe that after just two short months, her feelings could have vanished so completely.
“I’m hanging up.”
Timothy had no desire to continue this conversation with Yates.
After ending the call, he pressed his fingers to his brow, massaging away the tension.
What Yates had suggested wasn’t impossible—if it really happened, it would be a nightmare.
He needed a foolproof plan.
The next morning, Timothy returned to Lawson Mansion.
Phelps Lawson looked stunned. “You’re telling me she’s Salome?”
“That’s right.”
Phelps had always worried Timothy might have something going on with Sheila, which was why he’d been so against the idea of divorce in the first place.
If not for the fear that Jessica would reveal the truth, the old man never would have intervened in the divorce at all.
This was something Timothy had to tell Phelps—warn him that Vince was after Salome, and that the elders of both families might pressure the Lawsons for her whereabouts.
If Phelps was kept in the dark, he’d side with the family elders, demanding to know where Salome was.
But if he knew Jessica was Salome, given the ties between the families, he’d be even more against the divorce.
Phelps was still reeling, lost in shock.
Timothy went on, “She’s not mute by birth. It’s selective mutism—she could recover.”
He was raising the stakes, making it harder for Phelps to support the divorce.
That way, when the pressure came from the family elders, the old man would bear it himself.
“Timothy, are you telling me the truth, or are you pulling my leg?”
“Would I joke about something this serious?”
Phelps fell silent, thinking it through. If Jessica was Salome, then she was more than suitable for their family.
After a long pause, Phelps looked up. “You little scoundrel. Why are you telling me all this?”
Timothy explained how he’d used the secret about Salome to pressure Jessica into registering their marriage, buying them a month’s cooling-off period.
“So you went to file for divorce, but had no intention of going through with it?”
“From the day I decided to marry her, I never once thought about divorce,” Timothy replied, his voice resolute.
A history of gambling—he’d been addicted since he was young.
Only he might know why Jessica had lost her voice.
Secretary Allen secured a visitation slot.
In the visiting room, Jessica’s adoptive father, Hollis Greene, studied the impeccably dressed man before him. He couldn’t imagine who this stranger might be.
He looked like someone from another world, someone Hollis would never cross paths with in his entire life.
Ten years in prison had left Hollis looking much older than his age. He stared for a long time, but the man’s expression never changed. Eventually, Hollis broke the silence. “Who are you?”
“I’m Jessica’s husband.”
Hollis’s eyes lit up immediately. “So you’re my son-in-law!”
Who would’ve thought that mute little stray would end up marrying a man this wealthy?
Hollis’s gaze flicked to the expensive watch on Timothy’s wrist. Worth a fortune, no doubt.
“Let’s not get too friendly,” Timothy cut in. “I know she’s not your biological daughter.”
The smile vanished from Hollis’s face. “If you know that, then why are you here?”
“I want to know when she lost her voice. And when she became your daughter.”
Hollis knew he’d be out in a couple of months, with nothing to his name. The man in front of him...
He stretched out his hand, rubbing his fingers together—a clear sign for money.
Timothy’s lips curled in a cold, mocking smile. “Money won’t be a problem. But if you lie to me—”
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: Goodbye, Mr. Regret