Goodbye, Mr. Regret

Jessica's fingers tightened ever so slightly around the knife.

What was the point of his words now-did he expect her to be moved?

Sorry. That wasn't going to happen.

Timothy caught sight of her listless eyes and the glint of metal in her grip. His voice came low and rough. "About last night... I'm sorry. I lost control."

He sounded calm, almost gentle, as if he wanted to reach out and soothe the bruises he'd left on her cheek.

Jessica lifted her gaze, meeting Timothy's deep, ocean-blue eyes. A mirthless smile tugged at her lips.

Their marriage was unraveling, inching toward its end.

He played the same game over and over, each time cutting her heart open, letting it bleed anew.

Jessica's cold, bitter smile sliced right through Timothy.noveldrama

He'd gone too far last night.

"It was my fault, I admit it, Jessy..." Suddenly, Timothy caught her hand, pried the knife from her loose grip, and tossed it aside. He crouched down in front of her, guiding her hand to his cheek. "Go ahead. Hit me. Don't stop until you're not angry anymore, okay?"

Jessica didn't even try. Though he pressed her hand to his face, her fingers stayed limp, barely grazing his skin.

She just stared at him, detached, as if nothing about this mattered anymore.

Timothy felt the weight of helplessness pressing down on him. He lowered his head onto her lap, voice thick with emotion. "It's been so long since we've been close. I just... I missed you. I missed you so much I couldn't help myself. I never meant to "

He never meant to hurt her like that.

His longing for her had started the moment she went to take her shower last night, burning hotter with every minute at Moonstrand Villas.

No amount of nicotine, no bottle of whiskey, not even a freezing shower could smother the ache.

He'd rushed over, desperate to make things right, desperate to hold her gently, to coax her back to him.

But he couldn't even say how things had gone so wrong in the end.

Jessica said nothing. Only silence hung between them.

Slowly, Timothy raised his head, his eyes catching on the cut at the corner of her mouth. The memory of his own animalistic behavior twisted his gut with guilt.

"Jessy." Her name rolled off his tongue, deep and warm-his voice the same way she used to love hearing it.

Usually, he called her Jessica.

Only in the darkness, in the throes of passion, would he whisper Jessy like that.

Last night, he'd murmured her name again and again. But for her, there had only been pain.

His hand, elegant and trembling, reached for her face, wanting to comfort her, to ask if it hurt.

But Jessica recoiled, flinching from his touch like a startled bird. She shook uncontrollably, her beautiful eyes glazed and unfocused.

Her terror her desperate trembling squeezed Timothy's heart until he could barely breathe. Awkwardly, he withdrew his hand, hovering uselessly in the air before letting it drop.

Jessica jerked free from his other hand, curling herself up on the sofa. She hadn't even bothered to kick off her shoes, just drew her legs in and hugged herself tight, shrinking into the furthest corner.

She was terrified of him touching her again.

Last night, he'd gripped her jaw, held the back of her head, for what felt like an hour. Even now, her cheek still throbbed with pain.

No matter how many tears she'd shed, how many times she'd shaken her head, he hadn't let her go.

Now, her tears spilled silently, great drops soaking into the fabric of the couch, spreading dark stains.

She looked just like a lost, helpless child.

Every tiny movement, every broken breath, shattered Timothy's heart all over again.

He sat down beside

her, arms

wrapping around her trembling body. Gently, he pressed his cheek to hers, nuzzling her in an attempt to comfort her, whispering over and over by her ear, "Jessy, it's okay... don't be afraid..."