Goodbye, Mr. Regret novel Chapter 83

Timothy stepped out and quietly closed the study door behind him.

Jessica's hands shook as she straightened herself up, struggling to regain her composure.

A crushing sense of shame wrapped around her, suffocating and inescapable.

They were husband and wife.

She knew all too well that he had reacted just moments before—she couldn't pretend otherwise. It was one thing for her to no longer want to share a bed with him, but the way he could immediately regain his composure at the sound of Sheila's voice—that was another matter entirely.

Jessica had never imagined that Timothy, who always seemed so refined and well-mannered, could have been involved in such an illicit affair.

"Timothy, has Jessica come back?" Sheila's voice floated in from outside.

"She's back."

"Dad asked me to bring her a gift. Is she in the master bedroom? I'll give it to her."

Jessica stood frozen near the study door, her heart wound tight as a spring.

Sheila's father—that made him Timothy's grandfather.

Jessica couldn't make sense of it. In all their seven years of marriage, Timothy had never once introduced her to anyone from his mother's side of the family. In fact, the entire Lawson family seemed to avoid the topic altogether.

If their marriage had been a secret, maybe his mother's relatives simply didn't know she existed. Or perhaps they just looked down on her, a woman with no real voice in the family. But Henry—Henry was Timothy's own son.

Yet before Sheila appeared, no one from Timothy's mother's family had ever come to see Henry. Not once.

It was impossible to believe that was normal.

The only explanation Jessica could think of was the one she least wanted to accept: it had something to do with Timothy's affair with Sheila.

Enough. She forced herself not to dwell on it. None of that mattered anymore.

"Give it to me," Timothy said. "I'll make sure she gets it. You and Henry just got off the plane—go and get some rest."

"Dad, can I sleep with Miss Sheila tonight?" Henry piped up.

Timothy ruffled the boy's hair. "Of course you can."

A heavy exhaustion pressed down on her, making every movement feel sluggish and uncomfortable. She turned on the hot water, letting the tub fill, and decided to soak for a while, hoping it would ease the ache in her body.

Lately, she could feel it—her strength slipping away, little by little. The doctor had warned her: the danger of cancer lay in how the cells spread, quietly and relentlessly.

Jessica sank into the bath, unable to stop her mind from wandering. Where would she choose to spend her final days, when the time came? At a hospital? Back in her childhood home? Or somewhere far away, where no one would find her?

Lost in thought, she drifted off to sleep.

When she woke, she was shivering—the water had gone ice-cold.

Her whole body trembled as she hurried out of the tub, turning on the shower and letting the warm water wash over her until she finally started to feel human again.

When she emerged from the bathroom, the bedroom was still empty.

Timothy hadn't come back.

Jessica glanced at the clock on the wall.

It was two in the morning... and he still hadn't come downstairs.