Goodbye, Mr. Regret

Timothy was already far down the road.

Sheila stood where she was, helpless and rooted to the spot.

He really was growing more and more concerned about Jessica.

Seven years had changed so many things.

Timothy tracked down Jessica's attending physician and finally learned the truth: Jessica had gone into shock from extreme fright.

The police had found her in her hotel room and brought her straight to the hospital.

The tight knot in Timothy's chest loosened, just a little.

He remembered, vaguely, a night years ago. A thunderstorm had raged outside, and they'd been curled up in bed. Jessica had clung to him so tightly, trembling. For once, she'd been the one to pull him in for a kiss, her hands tangled in his hair. Even afterwards, she'd stayed wrapped around him like ivy.

He'd never realized, until now, how afraid she was of storms.

Last night's thunderstorm was the worst in years-lightning webbing across the sky, thunder shaking the windows.

It was no wonder Jessica had been so terrified she'd gone into shock.

A pang of regret stabbed through Timothy.

He should have come straight here the moment his flight was canceled at the airport. Should have hired a helicopter if he had to.

Without another word, Timothy left the hospital.

Sheila lingered a while to collect herself, then made her way back up to Timothy's floor.

She waited in the hallway, expecting he would return any minute.

Instead, she saw him striding out of the hospital, still wearing the patient gown.

What is he thinking?!

Is he really going to see Jessica looking like that?

Sheila could practically hear her own heart shattering.

Timothy always cared about appearances. On a normal day, he was immaculate -tailored suits, clean-shaven, not a hair out of place, shirts pressed to perfection. There was never so much as a wrinkle in his clothes.

But now, he was frantic about Jessica. All those little things he used to care about gone, just like that.

If it were anyone else, Sheila might have found it easy to ignore.

But this was Timothy.

She clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms.

A split second later, she made up her mind, hurried to the stairs, and deliberately threw herself down them.

By some cruel twist of fate, her forehead struck the handrail. Blood streamed down her face, and stars burst before her eyes.

Dizzy, she fumbled for her phone and dialed Timothy's number.

Timothy was waiting for a taxi at the curb when Sheila's name flashed on his screen. He swiped to answer.

He was about to tell her to check into a hotel for the night when her voice came through, raw with pain.

"Timothy, where did you go? I tried to catch up but I couldn't... I was in such a hurry, I missed a step and fell down the stairs. I hit my head and twisted my ankle. It hurts so much..."

Timothy's jaw tightened, lips pressed into a thin, hard line. After a brief silence, he said, "I'll be right there."

Sheila hung up, a satisfied look on her face.

Jessica woke to find the afternoon sun already fading beyond the window. It was nearly five.

She glanced at her phone-one missed call, from Timothy.

She stared at his name for a long moment before setting the phone aside and heading to the bathroom to freshen up.

Afterwards, she got ready to go out for dinner.

Just then, a message from Herbert appeared on her screen.

[Hey, Little Mute. I'm waiting for you outside the hotel. Let me take you

somewhere nice for dinner.]noveldrama

Jessica went downstairs.

Herbert's car was parked right out front.

She slipped into the passenger seat and, using sign language, let Herbert know that dinner was on her tonight. She didn't want to owe anyone too much.

Herbert had offered to help her find a lawyer, and last night he'd even stayed at the hospital to look after her.

He didn't protest.

He knew if he refused, she'd be even less likely to accept another dinner invitation from him.

They found a cozy restaurant and, after ordering, Herbert ordered Jessica a mug of hot milk.

"Little Mute, my mom called this afternoon," Herbert said as he handed her the menu. "She told me there was a get-together at our place yesterday. All the guests loved your paper-cuttings and offered a pretty generous price for them. My mom wants to know if you're interested in selling a few."