Goodbye, Mr. Regret novel Chapter 49

He arrived at Jessica's hotel in record time.

As soon as he pushed the car door open and stepped out, he spotted Jessica emerging from the lobby.

The man who had given her the voice-emitting necklace was waving to her across the drive.

When Jessica reached the car, the man—Herbert—opened the passenger door for her with exaggerated courtesy.

Jessica's smile was dazzling.

A surge of anger overwhelmed Timothy, darkening his expression in an instant.

He strode forward, shouldered Herbert aside, and, with one swift motion, pulled Jessica into his arms.

Their eyes met—Timothy and Herbert—and sparks seemed to crackle in the air between them.

A subtle scent of cologne and tobacco wafted toward Jessica. She looked up.

Timothy's gaze was icy as he stared Herbert down.

"Excuse me," Timothy's voice was low and refined, but the underlying dominance was unmistakable, "but aren't you aware she's a married woman?"

Herbert pushed his gold-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose and gave a lazy, irreverent grin.

"Jessica and I grew up together. It's just a friendly meeting—no need to let your imagination run wild."

Timothy remembered the Lawsons back at the family estate, one after the other calling Jessica "Mute." He had hated it then, and hearing Herbert call her "Little Mute" now made his blood boil.

Jessica squirmed in Timothy's embrace, trying to wriggle free.

He shot her a cold, warning look and tightened his hold, refusing to let her go.

Timothy fixed Herbert with a mocking, chilling smile. "Childhood friend—how convenient. I don't care who you are. She's my wife. From now on, stay away from her."

He gave particular weight to those last words.

Then, without another glance at Herbert, he dragged Jessica back toward his car.

Herbert took a few steps after them, his brows furrowed, but stopped himself.

Timothy was Jessica's husband. Who was he to intervene?

Timothy shoved Jessica into the passenger seat and slammed the door.

Without a word, he hit the gas, tearing away from the hotel and heading straight home.

Jessica was still sitting stiffly in the car.

Since when had she become so stubborn? Defying him at every turn, even going so far as to block his number?

A wave of unexplained anger washed over him. He pressed a button, and the electric curtains slowly closed.

Jessica, still sitting in the car, watched as the curtains drew together, shutting Timothy out of sight—like a final curtain call at the end of a play.

Timothy lit a cigarette, took a long drag, and then stretched out on the bed to rest.

An hour passed.

Jessica was sweating all over.

Though it wasn't quite autumn yet, the midday sun was relentless, and the temperature inside the car kept rising.

Only then did she realize how long she'd been sitting there. She grabbed the handle, ready to open the door and step out.

But the doors were locked from the outside.

She fished out her phone and, with trembling fingers, removed Timothy's number from her blocked list.