Goodbye, Mr. Regret novel Chapter 236

If she hadn’t gotten cancer.

A month wouldn’t matter. She could wait.

But her life was slipping away.

She didn’t have another month to waste.

It had already been over two weeks since the diagnosis. She had just a little over five months left.

If she let things drag on—a month’s delay for the agreement to go into effect, another month to prepare the divorce papers, then waiting through the mandatory reflection period, another month—by the time she finally held the divorce certificate in her hand, three months would have vanished. She’d be left with just two months to herself.

Jessica sat there, helpless, her hands clutching the divorce papers so tightly her knuckles turned white, then slowly let them fall to her lap.

Timothy’s brow furrowed in irritation. Did she really want to leave him this badly?

She’s not just making a scene, is she?

No, he didn’t buy it for a second.

She was mute, an orphan, used to living in this tiny apartment before they got married.

After marrying him, her life had changed completely—she was someone in this world now.

How could she ever give that up?

Even if she was tired of him after seven years, she’d never let go of Henry.

And besides, who was he to let her walk away? She was mute—what right did she have to leave him?

“Alright, enough with the tragic expression,” Timothy said, his tone impatient. “The lawyer made a mistake, and I’ve already dealt with him. If you want a divorce, what’s the rush? A month or two won’t make a difference.”

He stepped closer to her.

He’d always thought Jessica was easy to handle.

Now he realized she wasn’t nearly as easy as he’d imagined.

No matter. He welcomed a challenge.

Let her scold the lawyer herself? Who did he think he was? He was Timothy—a man who handled deals worth millions, sometimes even billions. His legal team, his lawyers—would they really make such a rookie mistake without his say-so?

Suddenly, she yanked her hand free and, trembling with anger, signed at him, her gestures sharp and unsteady: “Timothy, why are you lying to me? Would your lawyer ever dare make such a mistake without your orders? All I want is a divorce—is that really such a huge request? Why can’t you just give me this one thing?”

Her anger filled the room, making her gestures clumsy, her hands shaking with each pause.

She kept signing, her movements pleading. “We’ve been married for seven years. In all that time, I’ve never once asked you for anything. Today, I’m begging you—please, for the sake of everything I’ve given to this family, let me go. Can’t you do that?”

Her final words came slowly, her hands trembling, as if she was speaking aloud, her gestures full of desperate supplication.

Timothy understood sign language—after seven years, he could read the emotion behind every flick of her finger better than anyone.

He felt his throat tighten, his chest constricting.

He’d never seen her so broken.

Taking a shaky breath, his voice low and hoarse, he asked, “Was I not good enough? Is that why you’re so unhappy?”

He’d always thought he’d done right by her. Sure, he was busy with work, but he’d given her everything a woman could want—money, jewelry, clothes, shoes, bags. He’d never let her go without.