Goodbye, Mr. Regret

Chapter 85

Timothy strode toward her, his steps steady, his dark eyes aglow with a gentle, mysterious light.

He leaned down, lifted the blanket, and without a word, scooped her up from the bed into his arms.

His arms were strong, holding her with effortless strength.

Cradled against his broad chest, Jessica felt safe, cocooned in his warmth.

He carried her over to the table where the cake sat, then settled into the chair without letting her go, so she ended up in his lap.

Jessica found herself nestled in his embrace, perched on his thigh-intimate, their bodies close.

With his right arm wrapped around her, Timothy reached under her arm and picked up a box of birthday sparklers from the table.

His other hand fished out a lighter. He lit a sparkler, placed it in her hand, his palm covering hers, and together they touched the flame to the tiny candles on the cake.

As soon as the "2" candle caught, it burst into a spray of tiny sparks, like a miniature firework.

So they were sparkling candles-three of them, all at once, showering the room in soft bursts of light. Timothy drew her closer, his chin resting in the curve of her neck, his voice low and gentle.

"Don't just stare-make a wish."

His sudden tenderness left her mind blank, caught somewhere between disbelief and longing.

For several seconds she couldn't even remember what she wanted to wish for.

as the sparklers were burning down, Timothy

Make a wish. Quick, before

Jessica silently make her birthday wish

quiet, unexpected warmth Timothy showed her

help but

her suspicions would prove wrong, just as tonight

about the cancer, she'd thought: if, in the time she had left, Timothy could fall in love with her, she'd have no other wishes in this

took

in soft, golden light, the atmosphere heavy

noticed the plastic knife meet some

care; he guided her hand to pull the knife free and started cutting from another

let go of her, leveled the knife, and scooped out a small piece

eat

was

She shook her head.

have some cake." He handed

not

do you want me to feed

locked on hers, the look

pressed her lips

fork, speared a small piece of cake, and brought it to her

sweet aroma filled the

in