Goodbye, Mr. Regret novel Chapter 494

“Love or not, I can’t say for sure. But what I do know is—there’s no way things will work out between you two.”

The phone call left Timothy with a heavy heart.

He’d always thought Yates was on his side, speaking up for him, maybe even knowing Jessica was Salome, understanding that he didn’t want a divorce, and trying to help him out.

Turns out, he’d gotten it all backwards.

“So,” Timothy shot back, “if I can’t be with her, you think you can?”

He might be miserable, but he wasn’t about to lose his nerve.

His words hit Yates where it hurt, though to be fair, Yates hadn’t exactly been a paragon of virtue himself. Back when he didn’t know Jessica was Salome, he hadn’t made Timothy’s life hell the way Vince had.

That much, at least, was true.

“My chances are better than yours, Timothy. You’re the one who burned this marriage to the ground. There’s no going back.”

“Spare me the lecture.”

He knew. Of course he knew. But knowing didn’t help—he didn’t want Jessica to leave, yet he couldn’t find any way to make her stay.

“I’ll say just one thing. There’s one thing you did that’s truly unforgivable, do you realize that? Today, she showed up in front of Mrs. Zimmerman, and Mrs. Zimmerman recognized her instantly. All I could think was—if you’d introduced her to people, just once in your seven years of marriage, the Zimmermans wouldn’t have spent all these years not knowing she was Salome.”

Yates’ words cut deep.

She really was recognized at a glance?

He almost laughed at himself. All this time, he’d been fantasizing about removing her birthmark.

“What’s worse,” Yates pressed, “is that even after you found out, you kept it from the Zimmerman family. Tell me, Timothy—when did you know? Was it when Vince told you about the birthmark?”

The call ended abruptly.

Timothy snapped his phone shut.

There was a weight pressing down on his chest.

He wished he’d realized back when Vince first mentioned the birthmark. Back then, things between him and Jessica hadn’t yet fallen apart.

But he hadn’t.

He’d told himself it was impossible.

He’d told himself that one year’s difference meant everything.

Timothy closed his eyes. Maybe if the pain from his wounds was sharper, it could drown out the ache choking his heart.

He found himself longing for the past.

Longing for those quiet, gentle years.

His mother had left on the day he was born, and his grandfather had set his sights on molding him into the heir of the Lawson Group. His father, never particularly capable, had remarried and started a new family. His grandfather was eager to raise him, and his father was only too happy to hand him over, barely looking back.

Every day, Timothy had lived under immense pressure.

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