Goodbye, Mr. Regret

Timothy's gaze was dark and unreadable as he stared at her.

A heartbeat later, he grabbed her hand and led her firmly down the hallway.

They rode the elevator in silence, straight to the top floor.

Jessica let herself be pulled along, passive, until they entered the penthouse suite.

Once inside, Timothy pressed her gently down onto the sofa. He crouched in front of her, eyes intense. "Why haven't you been answering your phone?"

His voice was low and a little rough around the edges.

Jessica looked down at him—a man in a perfectly tailored suit, always so composed and charismatic, effortlessly charming. Once, she'd found that impossible to resist.

Now, she had no desire left to love him.

She raised her hand, voice flat. "Didn't feel like it."

An unmistakable shadow of annoyance flickered in Timothy's dark eyes.

"You never used to act like this."

Jessica's pale fingers danced dismissively through the air. "Like you said, that was before."

"So you're really set on this divorce?"

His smooth baritone had a hard edge, almost accusatory.

"I'm not making a scene," she answered quietly, her gaze empty, her gesture firmer.

Timothy stood abruptly, running his hands through his hair in frustration. He paced the luxurious carpet, then crouched again in front of her. He removed her mask and sunhat, setting them aside.

"I don't see what's wrong between us," he said, jaw tight. "Seven years of marriage—we've always been like this, haven't we?"

He hesitated. From inside his jacket, Timothy pulled out a velvet box, flipped it open, and held it out to her.

"The night before last, I booked a red-eye flight. Saw this brooch at the airport and thought it would suit you. I meant to bring it over, but there was a thunderstorm in Capital City and my flight was delayed. When I finally got your call for help, I—" Timothy stopped. He didn't say that he'd rushed to her side, only to arrive too late. That he'd tried his best, and didn't feel the need to justify himself.

Jessica had always been the perfect wife-gracious, considerate. Surely, she wouldn't hold a petty grudge over something like this.

He softened his tone, almost coaxing her. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. That's on me. But please take the gift, and let's not fight over this, okay?"

He sounded sincere. His voice was gentle, even soothing.

But Jessica just gave him a mocking half-smile.noveldrama

He'd ordered brooches for Sheila-twenty-three of them in total. Today, Sheila wore one; the rest, no doubt, were destined for the trash.

And now he was offering Jessica one of those castoffs, hoping to smooth things

over.

She was his legal wife. Was this what she was worth to him? Only what was left over after he'd given the best to someone else?

Jessica turned away, refusing to look at the brooch.

It was exquisite-delicate, sparkling with diamonds that caught the light and seemed to burn against her eyes.

Timothy hadn't expected her to refuse. She didn't even acknowledge the effort he thought he'd made.

"Jessica, don't push me too far," his voice was sharp, the warmth gone.

He'd been trying to placate her for days, but the more he tried, the more stubborn she became. He didn't have time for this-didn't want to waste his energy on childish dramas.

Jessica faced away from him, hands moving as she signed, her meaning crystal clear:

"If you think I'm being unreasonable, then let's just get the divorce over with. Go our separate ways."

She said it with chilling calm, as if it meant nothing at all.

Timothy was losing his composure. He'd made this difficult trip to Capital City for her-and now, anger prickled beneath his skin.

"Go our separate ways? Really? You have no work experience. For seven years, you've lived a life of luxury. Without me, tell me how exactly are you planning to survive?"