Goodbye, Mr. Regret novel Chapter 182

Timothy's deep, husky voice was laced with a sensual magnetism, every word coaxing and dangerously inviting. It was the kind of voice that could pull you under if you weren't careful.

Jessica froze for a second, caught off guard by the way his tone seemed to wrap around her. But she snapped out of it quickly, her resolve hardening.

With a firm gesture, she made herself clear. "I want nothing but my own money."

Timothy didn't get angry. What had happened last night at the Red House still lingered in his mind as a source of guilt. He had to admit—he'd neglected her for years. If she was upset, if she wanted to make a scene, he could hardly blame her.

He gave a soft, almost self-deprecating smile. "If you only care about your money, then what were these past seven years for? Don't be silly. Be good, alright?"

Seven years. Seven wasted years. Did he really think she'd sign on for seven more?

Sorry.

She was fresh out.

All she had left was six months.

And for these last six months, she was going to live for herself.

"It doesn't matter anymore."

Watching her hands as she signed, Timothy's lips pressed into a thin, hard line. The warmth in his voice faded, replaced by something heavier. "So you've really decided to leave your husband and child behind?"

Jessica nodded without hesitation.

Timothy drew a long, unsteady breath, his eyes growing darker, hard to read.

Jessica didn't care what he was thinking. She didn't want to know.

After a long silence, he finally asked, "Why?"

He'd never actually asked her that, not once since she'd started demanding a divorce.

Jessica didn't bother giving him a lengthy answer. Her hands moved, her expression cool and distant. "I'm tired."

Tired of a life that smothered her and showed no promise of change. Tired of the same old routine, day in and day out. Tired of waiting—hopelessly—for a man who would never love her.

Husband, child, all of it. She was done.

Timothy's gaze grew even dimmer.

She was tired.

A contract meant she didn't need to worry. Something legally binding. An amicable divorce, the fastest solution.

Timothy called his lawyer, who arrived within half an hour.

Jessica signed to Timothy, "I'll tell you my conditions. You relay them to your lawyer."

"Alright."

Even lying in a hospital bed, Timothy exuded that unshakable, commanding presence.

Jessica began, her hands moving slowly.

"Irreconcilable differences. Petition for divorce. One-month waiting period."

Timothy's brow furrowed in displeasure.

It sounded like a death sentence.

A month's reprieve, at best.

Jessica continued, "During the agreement period, the husband must not violate the following terms."