Goodbye, Mr. Regret

Jessica returned to the hotel earlier than planned.

She'd thought about switching to a different hotel, but realized it didn't matter—if Timothy could track her down here, he'd find her anywhere.

So, she decided not to bother.

Maybe it was the weight of her emotions, but as soon as she got back, a dull ache started in her abdomen and wouldn't let up.

She took her medication, but it didn't help much.

Now, she lay on the bed, unable to sleep-pain gnawing at her, keeping her wide awake.

Meanwhile, Timothy's call was cut off the moment he dialed.

That's when it struck him: Jessica had blocked his number.

A strange, hollow ache settled in his chest.

He turned back to the hospital room, checked Henry's forehead with a hand towel -only to find it was already warm.

He quickly wrung out a fresh towel, folded it, and placed it gently on Henry's brow. Then, slipping Henry's smartwatch from his wrist, Timothy stepped into the hallway and tried Jessica's number once more.

Jessica's phone buzzed.

The caller ID said Henry.

She froze, gripping the phone tightly.noveldrama

She hesitated, torn, but in the end, she let the call ring out.

Her son was already looking to someone else to fill the role of 'Mom.' What was the point in answering? It hardly mattered anymore.

Besides, she was dying anyway.

Better to use this time to let him slowly get used to life without his mother.

Timothy listened to the endless ringing on the speakerphone, until the call dropped by itself.

Jessica must have lost her mind.

She wouldn't even answer her own child's call!

His dark eyes were as deep and cold as midnight.

He'd gone out of his way to buy her that voice-activated ring, even brought it over

in person a small gesture of apology for how distant he'd been.

But instead of accepting the olive branch, she just kept pushing him away, higher and higher up her own ladder of stubbornness.

Unbelievable.

Timothy didn't try calling Jessica again. He returned to the hospital room and sat by Henry's side, tending to him through the night.

It was a long, exhausting vigil.

By dawn, Henry's fever had finally subsided, though a mild temperature lingered. At least it was under control.

Timothy gathered the towels and washbasin, tidied up the room, and carried everything into the bathroom. When he came out, Sheila had arrived.

Sheila took one look at Timothy's drawn face and spoke up, worry etched in her voice. "Timothy, you haven't slept at all, have you?"

He just nodded.

Sheila hurried to his side, her concern obvious. "Go home and get some rest. I'll stay with Henry."

"I appreciate it," he said quietly.

"Don't mention it. Henry's always been so sweet to me-taking care of him is the least I can do. You should really get some sleep. And if you run into Jessica, be gentle with her, okay? Kids recover faster when their own mom is by their side."

At the mention of Jessica, Timothy's lips pressed into a thin, hard line.

Coddle her? If he coddled her any more, she'd just walk all over him.

Seven years of marriage, and he'd never realized just how stubborn she could be.

"Timothy, don't just stand there. Go on, I've got this," Sheila insisted, giving his arm a gentle shove toward the door.

"Thanks for looking after Henry. I'll have Mabel come over to help soon."

"Don't worry. I can handle it. Go home."

"Thank you," he said again, then stepped out of the hospital.

The golden sunlight washed over the city.

He'd been up all night.

He'd pulled all-nighters before for work, but never had he felt this bone-tired.

He slid into the driver's seat, massaging his temples, frustration simmering.

This was all Jessica's fault.

Since marrying her, he'd never let her work a single day.

Her only job was to take care of their son and their home.

For seven years, life had run smoothly.

And now, suddenly, she'd become unreliable.

With these thoughts swirling in his mind, Timothy started the engine and sped

away.