Goodbye, Mr. Regret novel Chapter 322

Vince got out of the car first, opened the passenger door, and carefully helped Jessica out.

The moment Timothy’s eyes met Jessica’s—those empty, shattered eyes—he felt himself grow even weaker, more helpless. For a heartbeat, it was as if something in his chest twisted painfully.

From the car behind them, a group of officials stepped out—representatives from the disability advocacy group and the women’s association.

Jessica no longer believed anything Timothy said.

Vince had told her that Timothy agreed to the requirements set by the advocacy groups and asked her to come back and finalize the divorce agreement. She knew better; this was just another one of Timothy’s schemes to lure her back alone.

So Jessica had insisted that Vince contact the officials and bring them along. With witnesses present, Timothy wouldn’t be able to do anything to her.

Seeing the representatives, Timothy’s brow knotted. In that moment, he realized just how deep Jessica’s distrust of him ran.

Vince supported Jessica as they walked forward, step by careful step.

Her footsteps were barely audible, but each one felt like it landed directly on Timothy’s heart.

Jessica stopped.

Sheila, noticing the badges hanging around the officials’ necks, finally realized who they were. She hurried over and said, “Jessy, I’m so sorry for the trouble I caused while I was back in the country. Please don’t be upset with Timothy. I’m flying out tonight—I’ve already booked my ticket. If you have anything to say, can you talk it over with Timothy, please?”

Timothy’s lips pressed into a thin, hard line. He said nothing, but when he saw the teeth marks on Jessica’s cheeks, his frown deepened.

Guilt and regret gnawed at him. He’d lost all sense of reason, completely disregarded her feelings, and for the first time, he hadn’t been able to hold himself back. He must have hurt her.

It felt like there was a hole in his chest—aching and empty.

Jessica raised her hand and, with deliberate slowness, extended her middle finger, flipping it downward.

Once inside, everyone gathered in the living room.

The officials from the advocacy groups took the situation seriously, with the disability representative speaking up first, clearly anxious. “Mr. Lawson, Mrs. Lawson has returned. The matter of divorce needs to be resolved as soon as possible.”

Timothy nodded, his gaze shifting to Jessica. He looked at her with pain in his eyes, his voice rough. “Whatever you want, just say it.”

His willingness to cooperate left the officials quietly satisfied.

Jessica lifted her hand, the gesture weak—her hand and wrist marked with fading bruises.

I don’t want anything. I just want a divorce.

Her movements were subdued, her expression even more so, as though even if she spoke aloud, there would be no trace of anger in her voice.