Goodbye, Mr. Regret novel Chapter 29

Seven years of marriage.

Could it really be because of that man last night?

Timothy's dark eyes seemed to deepen, almost swallowing the light.

He narrowed his gaze, jaw tight, and grabbed Jessica's chin, trying to force her to speak.

Jessica's lips parted unwillingly.

"Are you trying to kill yourself?"

His voice was low, edged with a simmering anger he couldn't quite hide.

When Timothy caught a glimpse of her pale pink tongue, it was still bleeding.

Moving to the nightstand, he pulled out a few wet wipes and came back, carefully wiping the blood from her skin.

Blood was still trickling from the corner of her mouth.

His brow furrowed in frustration. He shoved the remaining wipes into her hand and, without another word, swept her into his arms.

They had barely stepped out of the master bedroom—crossing only a few paces—when Sheila appeared from the living room, a glass of water in hand. She stopped short, staring at them.

"Timothy." Her eyes flicked to Jessica's bloody lips, the cluster of bruises along her neck, and her robe slipping off one shoulder, rumpled and askew.

Sheila pressed her lips together, concern coloring her tone. "What happened to Jessica?"

"I'm taking her to the hospital. We'll talk later," Timothy said, striding past her.

Sheila's grip on the glass loosened; it crashed to the floor, shattering in a spray of water and crystal.

Had they been so rough that Jessica bled?

Blood at the mouth… that meant—

Jessica, the quiet, delicate one, turned out to be wild in bed. No wonder she got pregnant with Timothy's son so soon after they married.

If Timothy could split her lip, just imagine what he was like in other ways.

If it hadn't been for Jessica's connection as his aunt by marriage, would she ever have landed such a catch?

Timothy rushed Jessica to the ER.

The doctor cleaned her up, stopped the bleeding, and prescribed medicine, instructing her to avoid hot food and stick to liquids for a while.

"Seven years married, and I never knew you were such a good actress," Timothy sneered.

Jessica's hands trembled as she tried to answer, but finally, they dropped to her lap. She turned her face to the window.

There was nothing left to say. He wouldn't believe her anyway.

By the time the ordeal was over, dawn was already creeping in, pale and gray.

Timothy's phone rang.

The car's Bluetooth displayed Henry's name on the screen.

He pressed the button on the steering wheel to answer.

Henry's voice blared through the speakers, trembling and high-pitched with panic. "Dad, something—something's wrong! You need to come home! Miss Sheila, she… Miss Sheila, she…"

Henry was on the verge of tears, his words choked and broken.

Timothy's grip tightened on the wheel. "Calm down, Henry. Tell me what happened to Sheila?"

The worry in his voice was impossible to hide.