Goodbye, Mr. Regret novel Chapter 258

Jessica’s gaze fell instantly on the pearl necklace in Sheila’s hand—the very same one Timothy had once given her.

A bitter smile tugged at Jessica’s lips.

Just last night, Timothy had shown up at the Zimmerman family’s house, clutching that necklace, insisting on returning it to her, telling her she wasn’t allowed to sell it again.

He’d even chased her all the way to her small apartment, desperate to explain himself.

Pathetic.

Did he really think she was that much of a fool?

“Jessy, what are you doing at the hospital?” Sheila’s voice broke through Jessica’s thoughts.

Jessica glanced at her coolly.

Earlier, Kane had called Timothy, practically shouting down the phone in panic, saying that Sheila had “accidentally” fallen from the balcony at Moonstrand Villas. Kane claimed that if Timothy hadn’t gotten there in time, Sheila might have died and no one would have known.

Sheila had supposedly fallen from a balcony, and yet here she was, looking perfectly healthy less than twenty-four hours later.

Only Timothy could buy into such a flimsy lie.

Jessica ignored Sheila and strode right past her.

“Jessy…”

But Sheila hurried after her, blocking her path with an apologetic look. “There’s really nothing going on between Timothy and me. I hope you won’t hold anything against him because of me. Would you consider coming back to The Gilded Whisper Estates? Timothy and Henry both need you.”

Jessica’s eyes were as cold and distant as ever.

Sheila was a woman, and she knew exactly what she was doing. She’d inserted herself into Timothy’s life over and over, and Jessica—Timothy’s wife—couldn’t possibly not care.

From the very first time Jessica had met her, she’d made no effort to hide her displeasure.

But Sheila’s explanations only made things murkier, which was precisely the effect she wanted.

The man clung to her, the woman clung to her—she couldn’t understand it. They were supposed to be soulmates, weren’t they? She’d given up quietly, caused no scenes, and still they insisted on putting on this farce.

Jessica’s face remained impassive. When she didn’t respond, Sheila kept going: “And since Mr. Smith and Ines both prefer your work, as soon as I’m healed, I’ll go home. I won’t take your spot or the role Mr. Smith reserved for you. My father is Timothy’s uncle, so yes, we’re close family, but Timothy and I are just the same age. Please, don’t get the wrong idea, okay?”

She sounded sweet, innocent—her face the very picture of sincerity.

Jessica didn’t bother with any more sign language. What was the point? Sheila had no intention of moving aside.

Left with no other option, Jessica tried to step around her.

But Sheila grabbed her by the wrist.

Just then, Jessica saw Timothy returning.

Sheila’s nails dug hard into Jessica’s skin. Jessica wrenched her hand free, pain flashing in her eyes.