Goodbye, Mr. Regret

Timothy's gaze was sharp, almost piercing, as he looked deeply into Jessica's eyes. "It's because I'm afraid of losing her," he admitted, voice low.

He had made too many mistakes.

Now, he was at a loss.

All he could do was fight desperately, even if it meant hurting himself in the process.

In the end, everyone lost.

Timothy looked away, then bowed solemnly to Zachary and Mrs. Zimmerman.

"I never meant to keep this from you forever. I just hoped that by taking a roundabout approach, I could find a way to make things right with her again, bring her home myself, and deliver her safely back to you. But I've made a mess of everything. I'm sorry..."

Everything about Timothy-his posture, his words-radiated sincerity.

He was trying to change, to let go of his stubborn control.

He hoped, just once, to be forgiven.

But Jessica was unmoved.

Her face remained calm, expressionless, unreadable.

Zachary and Mrs. Zimmerman looked at their daughter, searching her face, but said nothing to Timothy.

Mrs. Zimmerman stepped up beside Jessica. "We're on the fourth floor. It won't take long to walk down. Let's take the stairs."

The three of them turned and headed for the stairwell.

Timothy stayed where he was, defeated and drained.

A dull ache pressed against his chest.

He wondered if, every time he left her behind without a word-just walked away- she had felt exactly like he did now.

Funny, how people are. Until you taste someone else's pain for yourself, it's hard to truly understand what they go through.

He could finally see why Jessica was so determined to end their marriage.

Sheila's arrival had been the spark.

Not only had it deepened the misunderstandings between them, but it had forced Jessica to see just how selfish he became when things got tough.

She had been right all along.

When he and their son had needed her, she treated them like treasures, swallowed every hardship without complaint.

But when they didn't need her, they were little more than an afterthought.

The knowledge stung.

If only she would yell at him, curse him, hit him-anything. He could have handled that.

But she didn't.

She only ever spoke a few words, and only when pushed to the edge.

Now, she wouldn't even mention it at all.

Instead, she quietly bore it all on her own.

Timothy stepped back into the elevator.

Downstairs, Jessica and her parents had reached the car. Jessica said, "Mom, Dad, I want to visit a friend who helped me recover my voice. You two go home first."

Mrs. Zimmerman nodded. “Your

brother told us about him-he did

you a huge favor. Why don't you invite him over sometime? We'd love to thank him in person. And

your grandfather's out of thenoveldrama

hospital, your father and I would like to visit your hometown, to pay our respects to your mom and grandmother."

"Okay. I'll see him today and set something up.”

"We'll take a cab home ourselves. Let the driver take you to your

friend's, Mrs. Zimmerman insiel net

clearly unwilling to see her daughter hailing a taxi on her own.

"It's fine, really," Jessica replied, "you two take the car. It's easy for me to grab a

cab."

Ever the daughter, Jessica would never let her parents take a taxi while she rode in the family car.

They'd all come together that morning in the same car, so there weren't any extra vehicles.

Zachary asked, "Do you have a license?"

"No, I never learned to drive."

She'd married Timothy when she was twenty. She'd thought about learning, but Timothy had said that since she couldn't speak, driving lessons would be hard, and with a

family car and driver alw with a

available, there was no need. It wasn't safe for a young woman to drive anyway, he argued.

So she never learned.

"All right, I understand. Take care. Call us if you need anything," Zachary said.