Goodbye, Mr. Regret

"How did he suddenly pass out? He was perfectly fine when I left the house."

"He just fainted out of nowhere while we were eating. I'm not sure what happened, really."

Mabel's voice trembled with worry.

"I'll be right there," Timothy replied at once.

He pocketed his phone and turned to Jessica. "Henry's fainted. I have to go home now. The sketchbook..."

Timothy glanced at the paper-cut illustrations in his hand, then looked at Jessica. "Henry made these himself. I hope you'll take a good look at them.”

He pressed the illustrations into Jessica's hands before hurrying out to his car.

Jessica stood there, the sketchbook clutched to her chest, her emotions tangled. She didn't want to look at it.

But the call about Henry fainting... Of course she was worried.

In the past, she would have dropped everything and rushed after them, anxiety knotting her stomach.noveldrama

Now, even though she stayed behind, her heart was already with them.

She didn't really believe anything serious would happen to Henry, but fainting out of the blue was never a trivial matter.

Timothy was trying to be considerate. He knew she wasn't ready to face him or their son together, so he hadn't asked her to come to the hospital.

All Henry's troubles used to fall squarely on Jessica's shoulders. Timothy had never really needed to worry.

With Henry's mother always there for him, Timothy had felt free to keep his distance.

But now, he couldn't keep leaving everything to Jessica. It was time he stepped up as a father. She couldn't be expected to handle it all alone.

Jessica lingered at the door for a moment, dazed, before she finally turned and walked quietly into the house.

Vince and Mrs. Zimmerman were waiting for her in the living room.

She was still holding the sketchbook.

"Jessy, he wouldn't take it?" Vince asked gently.

Jessica nodded.

"He's gone already?"

She nodded again. "Yeah."

Vince sighed, a little put out. That was quick.

Jessica sank onto the couch and opened the sketchbook.

On the first page was a delicate paper-cut illustration.

In neat, artistic lettering were the words: Me and Mom.

Henry had always been a bright kid, with a knack for art-his handwriting was beautiful.

The paper-cut showed Jessica and Henry together.

It was startlingly lifelike, copied from a photo of mother and son she kept on her phone.

Back then, Henry had been just a baby, swaddled in her arms.

He must have seen that photo once, years ago, and somehow remembered every detail.

Vince sat beside her, quietly taking in the images over her shoulder.

He wasn't stupid; he could see that Timothy still had a place in Jessica's heart.

As for Henry, Jessica was his mother. She might be disappointed in her son, might try to distance

herself, but no mother could even et

truly sever that bond. It was like his own mom-after his sister disappeared, she'd never stopped worrying, never stopped hoping, until the longing made her ill.

Jessica turned the pages.

Each illustration captured a moment she and Henry had shared.

There were scenes from his

2ad-moments he'd bet

young to remember, but sho

photos and videos all these y years.

Henry had recreated key memories from his life, cutting each scene by hand and adding little notes.

There was a picture of him, just learning to walk, stumbling toward Jessica.

Another of his first words-Jessica's joy when he called her "Mom" for the first time.

The floodgates of memory threatened to open. Once they did, she knew, all the moments would come rushing back.

She'd raised Henry herself, from a tiny bundle to the young man he was now.

So many things-she remembered every one.

She couldn't just walk away from him. She never could.

She hadn't even finished looking through the book when she set it aside, clutching Vince's arm. "Vince, call Timothy for me. Ask him which hospital Henry's at. I need to see him."

The worry in Jessica's eyes left Vince with no doubts.

Whatever happened, Jessica's needs came first.

He immediately pulled out his phone and dialed Timothy.