Goodbye, Mr. Regret novel Chapter 138

Timothy's chiseled lips pressed into a hard, unforgiving line.

He didn't answer Henry for a long moment.

"Dad, are you still there?"

Timothy's tone was stern. "Copy *A Mother's Love* one hundred times. I'll check it when I get home tonight, and I won't tolerate a single one missing."

"Dad!"

Timothy hung up without hesitation.

From the moment Henry was born, Jessica had cared for him herself, attentive to every detail.

She sat at his bedside when he was sick.

Bundled him up in blankets when he was cold.

Cooked comforting meals when he was hungry.

And yet, Henry showed not a trace of gratitude for his mother's love.

If Jessica ever found out, how heartbroken she'd be.

A pang of guilt struck Timothy for how he'd just spoken to her.

He turned back into the room.

Jessica was sitting on the floor, knees drawn up.

He strode over and reached down, gently helping her to her feet. His voice, usually so restrained, softened. "You need to take better care of yourself. The floor's cold, and it's not good for you to sit here so long."

His eyes were dark and deep, almost hypnotic.

The warmth in his voice, so rare, made Jessica's heart stutter in surprise.

In the past, just a hint of concern from him could leave her elated for days.

Now, she found it all a bitter joke.

A slap with one hand, a sweet treat with the other—he always kept her guessing.

Well, she was done with the sweets.

Jessica pulled away from his grasp.

She was finished waiting passively for things to change.

She was leaving him.

If he wanted Sheila to be Ines's student so badly, then fine.

Jessica signed to him, her gestures clear: "Timothy, I've changed my mind. I'm going to work with my mentor."

Jessica's lashes fluttered as she stared at him, bewildered.

Timothy pulled her into his arms, his sharp jaw brushing the top of her head.

His palm rested gently on her back, soothing.

"We've been married seven years. There's no real conflict between us. Do you really want to keep talking about divorce? Don't you want us to be a happy family, the three of us together?"

His voice rumbled softly above her—warm, inviting, the very thing she'd always dreamed of.

But not anymore. It was too late for dreams.

His embrace, once her whole world—steady, warm, safe—now meant nothing.

He never smoked, and his scent was always a subtle cedar, once so intoxicating to her.

But she pulled herself out of his arms, determined.

Who knew how long before he changed his mind again?

Last time, he'd asked her out to dinner at The Silverthread Eatery—before she even saw the invitation, he'd already canceled.

Just recently, he'd made a show of asking for her ID to book a family trip to Oakwood, but nothing ever came of it.

She wouldn't let herself hope again.