Goodbye, Mr. Regret

Chapter 432

It felt as though a sharp knife had plunged straight into Jessica's heart.

She'd always treated Henry well-she knew that. Yet, somehow, he always managed to hurt her the most.

"Henry, that's enough!" Timothy's voice was cold, cutting through the tension in the room.

"Dad, I" Henry started to explain.

"Henry." Sheila gently pulled him toward her, her tone soft but firm. "You can't accuse your mom of things she hasn't done."

Henry's lips pressed together in frustration. He hadn't meant to sound so harsh-it was just a reflex. Deep down, he always knew that bringing up his mother would upset his father. But lately, everything had changed. Miss Sheila hadn't come by in a long while, and she didn't visit him at school anymore. Every day, someone from the family picked him up, and his classmates kept asking why his beautiful mom never came. He had no idea what to say.

Whenever he tried to reach Sheila, she'd tell him she was busy and couldn't get away. She'd also told him that his own mother had come back. She never said it outright, but Henry could sense it: his mom was the reason Miss Sheila stayed away.

He slipped his hand out of Sheila's, walked over to Jessica, and whispered, "Mom, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I just wanted Miss Sheila to come over as a guest. Please don't be mad, okay?"

He reached out, hoping to hold Jessica's hand like he used to when he wanted to win her forgiveness with a little charm. In the past, if he ever made a mistake, a little show of affection was all it took-his mother would always soften.

dad for what he'd said, and if his father got

she recoiled as if she'd

he forgot to be upset he was

seen Jessica, she'd only used sign language. Now, suddenly, she

cold. "I can talk now. Does

Or not? Henry didn't know what to feel. Everything inside him was

his real mother talking again, what would people think if he

took Henry's hand in his. His voice gentled. "Aren't you going to congratulate your mom? She's finally better

Timothy. "I don't need

another word, she turned and disappeared into the master bedroom. She closed the door behind her, pressing her back against it, heart aching

herself she was done loving Timothy-that whatever he did, it no longer mattered. But Henry was different. He was her son, her flesh and blood, the child she'd carried for nine months. His words and actions cut deeper than anything, and no matter how much

coldness hurt Henry more than he could bear. Tears of frustration and shame spilled down his cheeks. He'd tried

mom

tears and frowned. "Stop crying. You're not a little girl.

Timothy was on him, the harder it

feelings in check-he