Goodbye, Mr. Regret

Timothy shoved Jessica into the car, then stood squarely in front of the door, blocking any escape. His gaze was icy as he stared down Mr. Smith and Ines, his lips curling into a cold, measured smile. “I appreciate your eye for talent," he said, "but my woman doesn't need to hustle around for a job. Starting today, I want you both to stop asking her to work for you."

Even with the car door shut, Jessica could hear Timothy's voice as clear as day. She pushed hard against the door, but it wouldn't budge. Frustrated, she pounded on the window, but Timothy didn't so much as flinch.

Mr. Smith frowned. "Tim, if you don't want her working overseas, I can just give her the script. She can work on the project here if she'd like—I really do need her..."

Timothy cut him off, his tone unyielding. "What matters more to you your film, or the fact that she wants a divorce?"

There was no room for compromise in his voice.

Everyone knew they were still married, and Timothy clearly had no intention of letting go. Things had gotten messy, and even though Jessica claimed the divorce wasn't about this, Ines couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt.

With Timothy clearly angry, Mr. Smith didn't press the matter. Neither of them truly understood what Jessica was going through; to them, this was just another marital spat, and as outsiders, they knew better than to interfere.

All they could do was watch helplessly as Timothy drove off with Jessica.

He sped away, leaving Jessica trapped in the passenger seat, powerless to resist. She fell silent, her face drained of emotion, staring blankly ahead.

Timothy glanced at her in the rearview mirror, irritation roiling in his chest. He drove straight to the gates of The Gilded Whisper Estates.

He got out, walked around to open Jessica's door, and said, steady and even, "I don't want to fight with you. Come inside—we need to talk."

Jessica didn't move.

Timothy's voice softened, almost coaxing. "Maybe if you cooperate, I'll consider signing the divorce papers."

That, finally, got a reaction. Jessica climbed out of the car and followed him up the steps into the house.

Seven years. This had been her home, once her sanctuary-the place she'd poured all her hopes for love and family into. But after just a few days away, it felt like a stranger's house.

Timothy led the way into the living room and settled onto the couch, gesturing for her to sit as well.

Jessica forced herself to appear calm before taking a seat across from him.

Timothy pulled at his suit jacket, reaching inside his pocket for a pack of cigarettes. He lit one with practiced ease, exhaling a ribbon of smoke that curled above his head. His eyes, dark and unreadable, lingered on Jessica.

"I'm only just realizing," he said quietly, "that maybe I never really knew you at all."noveldrama

A mocking smile tugged at Jessica's lips.

Of course he didn't know her. A man's heart is wherever his gaze lingers. If he'd ever really looked at her, how could he not understand? Seven years together-it wasn't just a handful of days. How could he say something like that?

Jessica had nothing left to say, not about anything except the divorce.

Timothy leaned back into the couch, crossing one leg over the other, the hand holding his cigarette resting easily on his knee. He looked more relaxed now, his tone softer.

"When a criminal is sentenced, the judge still gives him a chance to defend himself. You want a divorce, so there must be a reason. Tonight, I'm giving you time. Ask me anything you want, and I'll answer honestly. Think of it as your chance to let me plead my case-one last time before we sign the papers. Okay?"