Goodbye, Mr. Regret

The rich aroma of red wine lingered on her lips, heady and intoxicating.

Jessica had barely registered what was happening before she tried to push Timothy away, only for him to let go of her first.

He could sense he was losing his grip on her, that coaxing her back was slipping further out of reach.noveldrama

If he pushed any harder, he knew he'd only drive her farther away, maybe ruin whatever was left between them. All he wanted was to bring his wife home, to live like a normal couple again—he never wanted things to end in utter ruin.

Swallowing his pride in front of his own wife didn't feel shameful to him.

Right now, his desire was almost overwhelming—so close to breaking through— but somehow, he managed to rein it in. His voice was rough, trembling just a little as he murmured, "Jessy, it's been so long since we've been together. Don't you miss it—not even a little?"

His lips nearly grazed her earlobe, his hot breath trailing slowly over her skin. He was trying to tempt her, to draw her in with every ounce of charm he had.

His deep, seductive whisper might have worked once, but Jessica was stone-cold sober now. All she felt was disgust. How could he say something so shameless and not even flinch?

Pinned by his weight, Jessica couldn't move. She furrowed her delicate brows, lifted her hand, and pushed back. "No, not at all. I never want to have anything to do with you again, Timothy. Please, just let me go."

Timothy reached out, gently tilting her chin with his thumb and forefinger, his voice husky. "Seven years, Jessy. How can you be so heartless—just walking away from your husband and your son?"

Heartless? Who was really the heartless one here?

Timothy's ability to turn things around never failed to amaze her.

"If you say I'm heartless, then so be it," she replied coolly.

His dark eyes locked onto hers, unblinking, searching. He didn't know it yet, but it

would take years before he truly understood what heartless meant.

"I won't let you walk away from this family, Jessy. Don't push me," he said.

Jessica let out a helpless laugh. The one doing all the pushing had always been him.

His stern brow trembled as he

whispered, “I don't want to fight with you. I still don't even know why we're in this cold war. Whatever the reason, fine-I give up. It's my fault. Please, stop being angry. Okay?"

His soft plea, his admission of defeat, made Jessica's eyes sting with unshed tears.

Too late.

Her heart was already hardened, immune to his words.

Timothy brushed the corner of her lips with a fleeting kiss, then pulled her tight against his chest.

In the dimming light, it felt as if something inside him-something he thought he'd lost-returned the moment he held her so close.

Here he was again, playing the role of the devoted lover.

She'd fallen for it before, again and again, always in different ways.

She still remembered those lessons, every one of them. There was no way she'd be fooled by him again.

His chin rested on the top of her head, nuzzling her soft, fragrant hair-the scent he'd grown so used to, the one he loved.

His gentle, melodious voice trembled as it drifted down to her. "Jessy, it's been too long. I can't take it anymore. Please just tonight?"

He sounded as if he was asking for her permission, as if this was all about love.

Of course. He hadn't come here to pour his heart out for nothing.

So this was what he really wanted.

Men-always ruled by their hormones.

"Don't believe me?" he challenged,

6 arms tightening until she couet

barely

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move. He wasn't letting

couldn't speak, let alone answer him.

She struggled against him, but he only took her hand-soft and delicate and pressed it against his belt buckle. "If you don't believe me, feel for yourself."