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 Velvet Ivy, Timothy stepped out-and immediately spotted the Bentley Jessica had been

owner

his phone

license plate for me," Timothy said, rattling

same time, Jessica was messaging Vince, asking him to look into the

car.

Timothy ended the call and finally headed

cane as he entered the private suite. Yates glanced up from his

twenty days since the surgery. Shouldn't be much

have been. Four to eight weeks on crutches, the doctor said, but he could hardly wait to walk

a drink. "So, what's got you in

talking," Timothy said with

can't

had a point, and he

second-she can talk?

nodded. "Some trauma when she was

you find a doctor who could help her?" Yates asked, handing over

Timothy's face clouded. "No."

recovered on her

"Yeah," Timothy said quietly.

you sure you should be drinking? Maybe we should just have a

a little. Helps

but before he could take a 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 cold,

have a drink, to help me forget

That's why no one likes hearing it. We've known each other forever, I'm not here to sugarcoat things and make you feel better. There are plenty of people who'll do that. But nice words won't solve your problems,

against Timothy's and took a

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

up and down. "You want the truth or

grumbled. "Of course I

in her shoes. If you were her, would you

she took Herbert out and someone mistook her for