Goodbye, Mr. Regret novel Chapter 159

The mention of chicken noodle soup brought a wave of nostalgia—Timothy realized he hadn't tasted it in ages.

Ever since that family day event, Jessica hadn't cooked a single meal.

Of course, Henry hadn't had chicken noodle soup for quite a while either.

The last time he'd eaten it, Mabel had been the one to make it, and honestly, it had been pretty disappointing.

He couldn't help but miss his mother's cooking.

So he piped up, "Dad, can you call Mom and ask her to come back? I want chicken noodle soup for breakfast tomorrow."

Then he tilted his head toward Sheila and added, "Miss Sheila, my mom makes the best chicken noodle soup. When she comes back, I'll ask her to make extra so you can try some too. It's really good—everything she makes is delicious. You'll be lucky to have meals with me after she comes home."

Mabel felt her stomach churn at that.

Did the young master even realize what he was saying? Calling his mother home to cook for the mistress? And inviting the mistress to stay long-term?

Sheila smiled and ruffled Henry's hair, clearly amused. "Thank you for sharing your good fortune with me."

Henry beamed at the attention. Then he turned back to his father. "Dad, why haven't you called Mom yet? I remember you love her chicken noodle soup too. Don't you want her to come back and make it for us?"

Timothy used to be away on business all the time, and when he was, he often found himself longing for Jessica's cooking. It was the taste of home, the kind that made him feel truly content. Only in his own house did he feel that sense of satisfaction.

Tonight's dinner had been prepared by Mabel. It looked all right—probably something she'd learned from Jessica—but it just didn't measure up.

Timothy set down his fork, his expression unreadable. "Henry, you're forgetting—your mother left in a huff today. Do you really think she'd come back so soon?"

Henry's eyelids fluttered in confusion. "Why wouldn't she? If you call her, she'll definitely come back."

Henry nodded quickly. "Well, if Miss Sheila suggests it, I guess I'll go along with it for now. When Mom comes back, I'll have her make something special for me then."

He'd suddenly remembered that his mom didn't seem to like Miss Sheila very much. If she came back, she'd definitely find a way to send Sheila packing.

Maybe it was better not to rush her return. There'd be plenty of time in the future to enjoy his mom's cooking.

"I'm done eating. You guys go ahead."

Timothy stood and walked to the master bedroom. He opened the safe inside and took out the household bank card. The card he used to give Jessica—loaded with two million dollars for her shopping sprees—wasn't there. Over the past seven years, it must have added up to tens of millions. Jessica was always frugal; she probably hadn't even spent it all.

No wonder she dared to talk back to him—he'd spoiled her himself.

He pulled out his phone and dialed Secretary Allen's number.