Goodbye, Mr. Regret novel Chapter 107

As soon as Timothy stepped into the departure lounge, an announcement echoed through the hall.

"Attention, passengers. We regret to inform you that the flight originally scheduled to depart for Capital City at 11:58 PM has been delayed due to severe thunderstorms and heavy rain at your destination. Please monitor the departure screens or check your airline app and booking channels for real-time updates…"

Timothy pulled out his phone and quickly scrolled through the latest weather reports and news from Capital City.

The city was under a red alert for thunderstorms and torrential rain—lightning flashed, thunder rumbled, and the downpour showed no sign of letting up. According to meteorologists, the severe weather was expected to persist for at least the next six hours.

There was no way he'd be flying to Capital City tonight.

Just then, his phone buzzed. Secretary Allen was calling.

"President Lawson, I've seen the news. All flights to Capital City have been canceled. I'm on my way to the airport."

There was nothing more Timothy could do; he'd have to turn back for now.

Secretary Allen met him at the terminal exit.

"President Lawson, would you like me to take you home, or…?"

"Let's go to the hospital."

Since he was back, there was no reason to leave Henry's care to Sheila any longer.

When the car pulled up outside the hospital, Timothy paused before getting out. "Wait here for a moment," he said.

He made his way to Henry's hospital room.

Sheila had fallen asleep, her head resting on the edge of Henry's bed.

Timothy's brow furrowed. He gently tapped Sheila's shoulder.

She woke with a start, blinking up at him. "Timothy? What are you doing here again?" she whispered, careful not to disturb Henry.

"You'll catch cold sleeping like this. Secretary Allen is waiting outside—go home and get some rest. I'll stay with Henry tonight."

"Did you find Jessica?" she asked softly.

Inside the box was an exquisitely crafted swan brooch. Two elegant swans, their beaks nearly touching, each held a teardrop-shaped pearl—delicate and beautiful.

A small smile played at Sheila's lips.

Timothy hadn't forgotten their shared past after all.

When she was a child, she'd once decided on a whim to raise a pair of swans at home, but she could barely take care of them herself. She'd constantly begged Timothy to help out.

Those swans had been with them for years.

When they finally passed away, she'd been heartbroken for ages.

Timothy had taken photos of those swans and commissioned all sorts of crystal keepsakes for her—miniatures for her car, her desk, even keychains and bag charms.

Sheila took out her phone, snapped a photo of the swan brooch, and sent it to Timothy with a message:

Timothy, is this for me?