Goodbye, Mr. Regret novel Chapter 162

Timothy's face darkened instantly. "How is what's between me and her such a mess?"

"Seven years ago, you were ready to bring her into the family. If that's not a mess, I don't know what is."

Of all the things in his life, this was the one thing Phelps could never forgive in Timothy.

What was he thinking?

Timothy's lips pressed into a thin, tense line. Phelps knew that bringing this up always set off another round of friction between grandfather and grandson. His voice softened, tinged with a rare gravity. "I'm not blaming you, truly. She did save your life, after all, and paid a heavy price for it—nearly lost her ability to speak, suffered more hardship than most would ever know. You felt guilty, wanted to give her a future—I understood that. I never objected. But in the end, she's still, in name, your mother's..."

The word "sister" caught in Phelps's throat, and he paused.

After everything exploded between Timothy and Sheila, it seemed like only a blink before he brought Jessica—the girl who couldn't speak—back home, insisting he would marry her.

Back then, the doctors had all but confirmed Sheila would never talk again.

Could it be...?

Suddenly, Phelps's expression grew even more severe.

All these years, he'd never considered this possibility. He'd always assumed Timothy, furious at both families' disapproval of Sheila, had dragged home a mute girl to spite them, to make them uncomfortable.

But now, maybe it hadn't been that simple.

Did he still care for Sheila? Was this a wound that never healed?

No. Something like that couldn't be allowed to happen in the Lawson family.

Phelps changed tack. "I hear you've been pulling strings for Jessica lately, trying to get Ines to take her on as a student. That's a good idea—I support you. Repaying kindness doesn't mean you have to marry her. Especially since you have a wife and son now. The Lawson family will take care of her, but beyond that, I ask you to think carefully."

The storm on Timothy's face faded, and he replied coolly, "You're overthinking it."

For a moment, Phelps couldn't tell which situation Timothy was dismissing—him and Sheila, or him and Jessica.

Timothy picked up the handmade ceramic mug in front of him, his movements graceful as he drank the tea in three measured sips.

Setting down the mug, he glanced up at Phelps. "If you're so worried, then stay out of things between me and Jessica."