Goodbye, Mr. Regret

"Love or not, I can't say for sure. But what I do know is-there's no way things will work out between you two."

The phone call left Timothy with a heavy heart.

He'd always thought Yates was on his side, speaking up for him, maybe even knowing Jessica was Salome, understanding that he didn't want a divorce, and trying to help him out.

Turns out, he'd gotten it all backwards.

"So," Timothy shot back, "if I can't be with her, you think you can?"

He might be miserable, but he wasn't about to lose his nerve.

His words hit Yates where it hurt, though to be fair, Yates hadn't exactly been a paragon of virtue himself. Back when he didn't know Jessica was Salome, he hadn't made Timothy's life hell the way Vince had.

That much, at least, was true.

"My chances are better than yours, Timothy. You're the one who burned this marriage to the ground. There's no going back."

"Spare me the lecture."

He knew. Of course he knew. But knowing didn't help he didn't want Jessica to leave, yet he couldn't find any way to make her stay.

"I'll say just one thing. There's one thing you did that's truly unforgivable, do you realize that? Today, she showed up in front of Mrs. Zimmerman, and Mrs. Zimmerman recognized her instantly. All I could think was—if you'd introduced her to people, just once in your seven years of marriage, the Zimmermans wouldn't have spent all these years not knowing she was Salome."

Yates' words cut deep.

She really was recognized at a glance?

He almost laughed at himself. All this time, he'd been fantasizing about removing her birthmark.noveldrama

"What's worse," Yates pressed, "is that even after you found out, you kept it from the Zimmerman family. Tell me, Timothy-when did you know? Was it when Vince told you about the birthmark?"

The call ended abruptly.

Timothy snapped his phone shut.

There was a weight pressing down on his chest.

He wished he'd realized back when Vince first mentioned the birthmark. Back

then, things between him and Jessica hadn't yet fallen apart.

But he hadn't.

He'd told himself it was impossible.

He'd told himself that one year's difference meant everything.

Timothy closed his eyes. Maybe if the pain from his wounds was sharper, it could drown out the ache choking his heart.

He found himself longing for the past.

Longing for those quiet, gentle years.

His mother had left on the day he was born, and his grandfather had set his sights on molding him into the heir of the Lawson Group. His father, never particularly capable, had remarried and started a new family. His grandfather was eager to raise him, and his father was only too happy to hand him over, barely looking back.

Every day, Timothy had lived under immense pressure.

First it was endless schooling, then, as he grew older, the world of business.

It was only after marrying Jessica that he learned what a home could be—a place

without pressure, a place he could finally relax.

Even their most intimate moments seemed to unravel every knot inside him. Sometimes, the happiness felt unreal.

He'd always believed that if you let yourself get too comfortable, you'd get lost in it and never find your way out.

He understood something deeply: when you finally get what you've always longed for, you start to care, you start to cling, and letting go becomes impossible.

And when you lose it, the pain is unbearable.

So he'd held back, kept his distance, tried to run from it all...

But in the end, he'd fallen headlong anyway, and now he was learning just how much it hurt to lose her.

Years ago he'd been out on a mountainside with clients, negotiating a deal, and went for an early morning walk. As he wandered, he came upon an old chapel. They went inside, lit candles.

The priest was giving a sermon on the first truth Christ preached after his resurrection: the reality of suffering.

He spoke of three kinds of suffering: suffering from change, suffering from pain, and suffering from loss.

Timothy hadn't fully grasped the first two; the third, though-the suffering of pain-he remembered. The priest listed eight great pains of human life: birth, aging, sickness, death, wanting and not having, separation from loved ones, dealing with resentment, and the turmoil of the mind.

At the time, Timothy had scoffed. Everyone goes through birth, aging, sickness, and death. As for the rest-never. Those were things that happened to other people.

Only now did he realize he'd been living with two of them-wanting and not having, and being separated from someone he loved-for a long, long time.

He vaguely remembered, as they'd left the chapel, the priest had said all suffering could be overcome.

He'd lain here, unmoving, for a day and a night.

He wanted to break free of the pain, to find some kind of answer.

Suddenly, a flicker of resolve stirred in him. He got up from the hospital bed,

signed his discharge papers, and decided to make the climb up that mountain

once more.

Meanwhile, at Aetherion-

Vince watched as his mother held

Jessica's hand, pouring out years of longing. Checking his watch, he

finally said, "Mom, Salome's ve

She's not leaving again. You'll

all the time in the world to be with her. She's just flown halfway across the globe. Let her get some rest and adjust to the time difference."

Only then did Mrs. Zimmerman realize she'd gotten carried away, talking to her

daughter after so many years apart, wanting to make up for lost time.

"Salome, there's a room for you here too. Let me show you."

"Thank you, Mom."

Ever since Jessica had walked through the door, Mrs. Zimmerman's spirits had

lifted. She hadn't even coughed once.

Beaming, she led Jessica to her bedroom.

Meanwhile, Zachary pulled Vince aside, wanting to know how he'd found Salome.

Jessica, stepping into the bedroom, was overwhelmed by emotion again. The decor was nearly identical to her old room at Zimmerman Manor.