Goodbye, Mr. Regret

He couldn't afford to back himself into a corner.

So he stepped aside and let her pass.

Jessica swept into the room, her heels clicking against the hardwood. With a sharp bang, she slammed the door shut behind her.

A wave of helplessness washed over Timothy.

He remembered how easily she'd agreed to marry him all those years ago. Back then, winning her hand had been effortless. She'd always been so quiet, so undemanding-until she lost her temper. When she did, coaxing her back was nearly impossible.

Ever since she started this latest argument, he hadn't managed to comfort her, not even once.

The only time she'd softened was on her birthday, and even then, it lasted just a couple of days before she stormed out again.

Frustrated and restless, Timothy left The Gilded Whisper Estates and got into his car. He pulled out his phone and called Yates Bryant.

"Want to get a drink?" Yates chuckled. "Are you out of your mind? It's not dinner, it's not even evening-it's the middle of the afternoon. Shouldn't we be having tea, not whiskey?"

"I need a drink," Timothy replied.

"Well, I don't," Yates said flatly. "Not in the mood."

"I'm in a lousy mood. Can't you keep me company, just this once?"

Something in Timothy's voice made it clear he was at a low point.

Yates sighed. "Fine, fine. Since you're about to get dumped, I'll do you a favor and join you."

"Anywhere you want. My treat.”

"How about The Velvet Ivy? I'm nearby."

Timothy instructed his driver to head to The Velvet Ivy. The place was across town, so it took nearly half an hour to get there. As they neared the entrance, Timothy sent Yates a quick text.

Yates replied that he was already waiting in a private lounge.

the car pulled up outside The Velvet Ivy, Timothy stepped out-and immediately spotted the Bentley Jessica had

owner

phone and called his assistant,

need you to check a license plate

Vince, asking

car.

the Bentley once more, Timothy ended the call

the private suite. Yates glanced up from his seat. "How's the leg? Any

the surgery. Shouldn't be much longer

been as bad as it could have been. Four to eight weeks on crutches, the doctor said, but he

what's got you in

Timothy said with a wry smile. "She's got

can't win

wasn't just that—she actually had a point, and he knew

a second-she can talk? She's not actually

"Some trauma when she was a kid. Caused her to

find a doctor who could help her?"

Timothy's face clouded. "No."

recovered on

"Yeah," Timothy said quietly.

not healed yet. Are you sure you should be drinking? Maybe we should just have a

little. Helps with

sip, Yates shook his head. "You're something else, you know that? She lost her voice for years, married you for seven, and you never once took her to see a doctor. That's

you to have a drink, to help me forget my troubles. Why are

known each other forever, I'm not here to sugarcoat things and make you

Timothy's and took a slow

moment. "You've got perspective. Tell me, what can I do to make

looked him up and down. "You

Timothy grumbled. "Of course I want

Put yourself in her shoes. If you were

she took Herbert out and someone mistook her for Henry's mother, and she didn't bother to clear it up-could he