Goodbye, Mr. Regret

Sallie was about to mention that she'd seen Jessica at the fabric market with another man.

But after a moment's hesitation, she decided to let it go.

After all, she hadn't actually seen clearly.

Timothy might be distant with Jessica, but she was still the wife he'd chosen for himself.

They'd married not long ago, and a child had quickly followed.

There had to be at least some lingering affection between them.

If she'd gotten it wrong, it would only make things awkward.

"It's nothing. Granddad called and said he wants everyone back at the family house tonight. I was just checking what time you'd be heading over."

"Before dinner, I suppose."

No matter how busy he was, Timothy would never ignore his grandfather's birthday.

He hung up.

Just then, the doors to the emergency room swung open.noveldrama

Timothy rushed forward.

"Doctor-how is she?"

"She's awake now," the doctor replied.

Sheila was conscious, but her face was ashen, her lips drained of color. She looked utterly drained.

Timothy's brow furrowed with concern as he instinctively reached for her hand.

"She just lost a lot of blood. The wounds have been treated and there's no serious danger. She'll need to stay a few days in the hospital. Once she's home, make sure she eats plenty of nourishing food to regain her strength. She'll be fine."

Timothy let out a quiet sigh of relief and followed as the nurse wheeled Sheila to her room.

Henry had come with Timothy to the hospital.

When the hospital's blood supply ran low, Timothy had been frantically making calls, trying to find more. He didn't want Henry stuck waiting around, so after much reassurance-promising over and over that Sheila would be alright-he finally convinced Henry to go home with the driver.

Timothy pulled up a chair and sat at Sheila's bedside.

"How could you be so reckless?"

His stern words were edged with worry.

Sheila frowned slightly. "Timothy, what are you talking about? I don't really understand."

His eyes lingered on the bandages around her wrist.

Sheila followed his gaze, then looked up at him. "You don't actually think I tried to kill myself, do you?"

"That's what Henry said when he called me."

Sheila hurried to explain. "No, it's not like that, Timothy. Don't get the wrong idea. I just slipped and fell-the glass I was holding shattered and it cut my wrist. I hit my head on the way down and blacked out. That's all."

A large bruise had already blossomed across her forehead.

"So that's what happened..."

"Timothy, is it because you and Jessica went public with your marriage? Did you think I'd take it so hard that I'd try to...?"

These past few days, Sheila had been quietly testing Timothy's boundaries. He said nothing.

If he voiced his suspicions, it would only make it seem like he thought too highly of himself as if Sheila still cared for him.

"I'm sorry. There were promises I made to you before, and I didn't keep them."

"Timothy, there's no need for you to feel guilty. We... Well, it's all in the past now. You're married. There's no need to dwell on those things anymore."

His gaze was intense, burning and unfathomable.

Truthfully, Sheila wasn't sure what Timothy was thinking these days.

But she could say for certain that he still cared-about her, about the words they'd

once shared, the things they'd once done together.

"Sheila Howard."

He spoke her name softly.

He'd never called her "Aunt Sheila" like everyone else, not since they were kids. Always just her name.

Except when he was angry-then he'd use her full name.

"Timothy, are you upset with me?" Sheila's eyes were full of longing.

"Everyone has their own principles. Mine haven't changed."