Goodbye, Mr. Regret novel Chapter 239

What woman could ever accept her husband investing in a film just for his mistress?

Jessica refused to answer. Even one more word with him, she thought, would probably shave a month off her life.

She lifted her hand weakly. “I’m tired. I need to get some rest.”

It was as clear a dismissal as any.

Timothy glanced at his watch. It was late, and he didn’t press her for an immediate answer.

Mr. Smith wasn’t leaving right away—he could give her some time to think it over.

“Alright. Get some sleep,” he said, his tone surprisingly gentle. “We’ll head back to Riverside City early tomorrow. By the way, where’s the bathroom? I need a shower.”

Jessica’s eyes widened in disbelief.

Was he seriously asking where the bathroom was?

Did he plan to stay here tonight?

She waved her fingers, impatient. “I meant you should head home early. Don’t you get that?”

Timothy’s brows knit together. “You’re kicking me out?”

“Yes!” Her answer was emphatic.

But Timothy just chuckled. He bent down and, without warning, scooped her into his arms, holding her tight, his gaze smoldering. “Heartless little thing. I just drove over two hours to pick you up so we can spend the holiday together, worked all day, and now, at this hour, you want to throw me out?”

Jessica nearly lost it.

Just two nights ago, outside The Silverthread Eatery, he’d been the one to toss her out of the car in a rage.

Did he have selective amnesia? In the blink of an eye, it was as if their last fight never happened.

He went on, “But women always say the opposite of what they mean—no hard feelings. Whatever we argued about, let’s just leave it in the past, alright?”

Jessica was beautiful—he’d known that from the moment he first met her, the moment he decided he wanted to marry her.

Standing by the bed, Jessica tucked the comforter into its cover and placed it carefully, then slipped a pillow into its case.

By then, Timothy had wandered over. Just as she straightened up, his strong arms circled her waist from behind, pulling her close.

His lips brushed the pale skin where her neck met her shoulder—a spot that was always sensitive.

Whenever he kissed her there, she shivered.

The sudden heat of his touch sent a tingling rush down her spine, every nerve ending alive with sensation.

She almost cried out.

But she caught herself—she didn’t want him to know she could still make a sound. Her vocal cords trembled, but she clamped her lips shut, swallowing the sound before it escaped.

Timothy’s kiss was hot and lingering, a slow burn against her skin…