Goodbye, Mr. Regret novel Chapter 87

She had just raised her hand, about to ask him what was really going on between him and Sheila.

But Timothy caught her hand, pulling her beneath him without giving her a chance to speak, clearly unwilling to waste a moment of their time together as husband and wife.

He pinned her wrists gently above her head and kissed her, shutting down any attempt at conversation.

Tonight, he was relentless.

Just as Jessica felt herself starting to unravel, a sudden, frantic knock sounded from the hallway.

Timothy froze mid-motion.

"Timothy? Jessica? Are you two awake? Henry's stomach hurts really badly—he's crying…"

Sheila's voice trembled on the other side of the door, tinged with panic.

Timothy immediately rolled off Jessica.

"Go check on him for a moment—I'll be there right away."

Jessica sat up quickly, following his lead. Lately, she'd wanted to clear the air with Timothy. Maybe, just maybe, she'd been wrong about everything. But even if she had misunderstood, she couldn't ignore her own son.

Timothy was already half-dressed, pulling on his shirt with practiced speed.

Jessica slipped into her silk robe and got up to find something to wear.

Timothy glanced at her, aware she must be feeling frustrated after being interrupted at such a moment. And it was already so late.

He remembered how Henry had run a fever a few nights ago. He'd cared for him the whole night and, for the first time, really understood how much Jessica had gone through all these years.

"You should get some rest," Timothy said gently. "I'll take care of Henry."

Jessica still wanted to go with him.

He could see the worry in her eyes.

"It's just a stomachache," he reassured her. "Don't worry. He's my son too—I don't want to see him suffer any more than you do. Leave it to me, okay?"

Timothy's heart clenched. This was his son—his own flesh and blood, a little boy who looked so much like him. The arrival of this small life had changed everything.

Meanwhile, Jessica had quickly changed and hurried upstairs. When her child was hurting, he needed his mother more than anyone.

She rushed up the stairs just as Timothy cradled Henry, soothing him. "It's okay, buddy. I'm here. I'm going to take you to the hospital."

Through his tears, Henry sobbed, "Where's Mommy? Why isn't she coming to see me?"

"Mommy's a little tired tonight—she's resting. But Daddy's here, and that's just as good, right? Come on, let's go get you checked out."

Jessica, standing just outside the doorway, felt her heart ache at her son's cries for her. Even when he was sick, he still longed for his mother.

She realized she'd let her own suspicions take over, letting herself get carried away with unfounded worries, unable to forgive even the smallest mistakes from her child.

A wave of guilt washed over her, and she hurried up the stairs, quickening her pace as she heard Henry's plaintive voice drift down the hall: "Mommy doesn't love me anymore…"

Jessica's heart twisted even tighter, and she hurried to get to her son.