Goodbye, Mr. Regret novel Chapter 61

Jessica never knew that falling in love with someone could be inherited.

"What? You said Dad went with you? Oh no, why didn't you take me? Why did you leave me at home alone? I want to go too…"

Jessica had just picked up the scissors. The moment she squeezed the handles, she accidentally snipped her own finger.

A bright bead of blood welled up instantly, vivid and red.

She stared at her bleeding fingertip, eyes empty, her mind blank.

She sat there in a daze for several minutes before Henry came over again.

"Mom, Dad wants to talk to you."

Henry switched his smartwatch to speaker mode.

Timothy's low, slightly hoarse voice crackled from the tiny speaker.

"Jessica, Henry wants to come to Aetherion. Book a flight to Marisbright and bring him over. We're getting married, and you still haven't met my grandfather. Take this chance to visit him."

Jessica couldn't respond; the smartwatch didn't allow for it.

If Timothy called her, he'd sometimes tell her to check her messages, then hang up. At other times, he'd say what he needed right then and there—no need for a message, just a command, a notice of what she must do.

This was one of those times: as soon as he finished speaking, he hung up.

Jessica glanced at the screen: the caller ID read "Sheila."

He'd used Sheila's phone for the call.

Henry slipped the watch back onto his wrist and sidled up close to Jessica, practically bouncing with excitement. "Mom, can you book the tickets now? After we eat, we can head straight to the airport!"

He was so close that Jessica caught the faint, elegant scent of perfume on his clothes—the same Chanel fragrance Sheila always wore.

Sheila had left that morning, which meant Henry had spent the morning cuddled up with her.

Jessica looked at her son's beaming face and suddenly felt he was a stranger.

Six years of motherhood, and she'd been replaced in less than ten days.

How was she supposed to bear that?

Quickly wiping her hands on her apron, Mabel hurried over.

"Ma'am, what happened to your hand?"

She gently helped Jessica to the sofa.

Mabel fetched the first-aid kit from under the TV stand, pulled out a piece of gauze, and dabbed it with alcohol. She carefully cleaned the blood from Jessica's finger, all the while blowing softly on the wound, afraid of causing her pain.

Jessica's eyes blurred with tears.

People who care about you will notice your pain, no matter how far away they are.

But those who don't—you could bleed right in front of them, and they wouldn't see a thing.

Mabel spoke softly, "Luckily, it's not too deep."

She dressed the wound with great care.

From across the room, Henry called out impatiently, "Mabel, can you hurry up? I'm still waiting for Mom to book the tickets."