Goodbye, Mr. Regret

Jessica had had enough. She raised her hand. “Let's sign the papers."

Timothy stood up, picked up the agreement, and walked over to her, offering the documents.

She took them, eyes scanning the terms, when Timothy suddenly swept her up into his arms.

The divorce papers slipped from her grasp and fluttered to the floor.

She couldn't trust him. Not anymore.

The agreement promised her half of all his assets.

Did he really think she could be bought that easily?

Timothy strode toward the door, but even he didn't see where Jessica managed to draw a knife and press it against his throat.

The cold, sharp blade grazed his skin.

In Jessica's gaze, he saw a resolve he'd never witnessed before.

He looked at her, voice low and steady. "Planning to murder your husband?"

She glared up at him, jaw clenched tight.

Even with the knife at his neck, he showed not an ounce of fear.

Timothy barely acknowledged the threat, carrying her on without breaking stride.

She couldn't find her voice; she could only let her actions speak for her.

The tip of the blade pricked his skin.

He paused for a heartbeat as the pain hit, but then continued, unfazed.

Jessica pressed harder. Blood beaded at his throat.

When they reached the car, Timothy spoke gently, almost tenderly. "Put the knife down. If you still want to stab me later, I'll let you."

His elegant fingers curled around the passenger side handle, opening the door.

Jessica was so weak she didn't even have the strength to struggle.

Timothy's calm composure and soft words finally began to break through her defenses.

He eased her into the passenger seat, then got behind the wheel. The black Mercedes pulled away from The Gilded Whisper Estates and disappeared into the night.

He had to get her out of there.

Too many strangers had been sneaking into the estate lately-he hadn't had a real chance to sit down and talk to her.

The whole drive, Jessica clutched the knife tightly.

Timothy didn't dare drive too fast, afraid that a sudden stop might hurt her.

They rolled down wide, paved roads, then turned onto a narrower street.

Jessica stared out the window, her gaze unfocused. The surroundings were starting to look familiar.

Riverside University.

She'd lived here for four years.

The old rental apartments near campus.

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Back then, she hadn't stayed in the dorms-she needed to go out at night and sell paper-cut art to make ends meet. In the beginning, she'd survived on Ines's support and a patchwork of scholarships, renting the cheapest place she could find.

Later, when she started picking up odd jobs, her situation improved, and she

moved into a small one-bedroom with much nicer furnishings.

Timothy had only visited once, the day he came to take her to sign their marriage license.

After they married, she gave up the lease.

Timothy parked, walked around to the passenger side, and lifted her out again.

He carried her into the elevator, straight up to the ninth floor.noveldrama

Jessica's old floor. She had no idea why he'd brought her here now.

Apartment 909. The lock had been upgraded to facial recognition—entry was effortless.

Inside, everything was just as she remembered.

Seven years had passed, yet a deep sense of familiarity washed over her.

It wasn't big-maybe five hundred square feet, with a tiny balcony-but back then, it had been her safe harbor.

Timothy set her gently on the little fabric sofa in the living room and studied her for a long moment. His voice softened. "Seven years ago, I bought this place and put it in your name. You lived here for fouryears. I thought you'd be attached to it. I only changed the locks-everything else, I left the same."

On the wall behind the sofa hung several pieces of framed paper-cut art, their intricate, layered designs full of life. Years ago, Timothy had barely glanced at them, assuming they were just store-bought O decorations.

Now he realized they were all Jessica's own handiwork.