Goodbye, Mr. Regret

Even now, Timothy trusted Sheila without question.

What else could she believe, after all he'd said?

Whenever it came to Sheila, he never bothered to double-check a thing.

Seven years ago-the one who saved him was her.

She was the one who saw him run into the burning house and, scared out of her mind, chased in after him. He was struck by a falling beam.

She wasn't from a wealthy family; as a kid, she'd often helped her grandmother around the house, so she was certainly stronger than Sheila.

Still, even with her strength, she couldn't lift the beam. She had to use a piece of wood as a lever to push it aside.

It was love and worry for him that gave her the strength to drag him out of the fire.

The faint scar on her palm was a silent witness-left by the rope that cut into her skin and bled as she pulled him to safety.

Maybe, in the past, she would have told him the truth: that it was she who saved him that night.

Now? She wouldn't stoop so low.

Let Timothy believe it was Sheila. If he wanted Sheila to be his savior, so be it. He saw Sheila as the woman who saved his life, the one he wanted to marry. If she confessed the truth now, it would only make her own divorce harder.

"Why don't I believe you?" Jessica's voice was cold but steady. "Because you showed me the truth, Timothy. Even your son likes her. Out there, everyone thinks Sheila is his mom. The three of you together-you look like a perfect family. You should just be that: a family. You're not the man you were seven years ago. You have the power now to break through any obstacle for Sheila. So stop dragging me along. I don't have another seven years to waste on you."

anger twisted in his stomach. "What are you saying? What family? Just because you want a divorce, you don't care what comes out of

I'd already decided to let you go-to let you have the woman you love. Especially after that day at the school fair, seeing you, Sheila, and Henry—your happy little trio-I nearly applauded. You looked perfect together. Didn't

stabbed into Timothy's

phone was off when I called.

off. "If you were late, you could've sent someone else, but when people mistook her

"..."

words felt hollow. The

on, stubborn. "It was a

as a family. And I've always

understand."

wanted to go to

her son had been close. Afterward, Henry changed-he grew distant, embarrassed by his

Timothy hadn't allowed it, their son would never have dismissed her

you even

a handmade picture frame, you made a scene about me and him. If I took Herbert out and people thought he was Henry's

he

stayed silent, fine. But when she spoke up, she was relentless.

himself as a good communicator, but she

defend

the candle, but I can't

I'm not trying to fight with

nothing left to say. Don't push me. If you do, I won't care

anymore; let him