The moment Timothy caught sight of Herbert standing protectively beside Jessica, his lips pressed into a hard, bloodless line.
Herbert, of course, noticed Timothy as well.
Timothy didn''t bother hiding how intimately he held the woman in his arms; even when running into his own wife, he made no attempt to keep up appearances.
It was outrageous.
Without another nce at Timothy, Jessica turned toward Herbert and quietly signed, "Let''s go."
She acted as if Timothy didn''t exist.
Both Timothy and She understood Jessica''s signnguage.
She, a beat behind everyone else, finally spoke up. "Timothy, Jessica''s right here. You can put me down now."
Her voice was still rough and low from the strain.
"Don''t talk. Protect your voice," Timothy replied, his tone clipped but concerned.
Jessica and Herbert were already heading toward the exam room when Timothy''s words drifted to her ears.
She had undergone surgery on her vocal cords. The fact that she could now do voice-overs for her cartoons meant her recovery wasplete.
Even so, Timothy hovered over her, fussing about her throat as if it were made of ss.
After settling She into the exam room, Timothy stepped out.
Jessica, meanwhile, quietly told Herbert she didn''t want Timothy knowing about her own throat exam. Herbert nodded, understanding her worry, and led her to his office instead.
"I took a look at your vocal cords with the scope," Herbert said. "You don''t need a full work-up unless you want one. For now, I''ll give you some medication to help with recovery-herbal supplements, nothing that''ll cause side effects. As for your brain scans, I want to take another careful look and maybe consult a colleague."
Jessica nodded in agreement.
Herbert handed her the medicine.
She said her goodbyes, making it clear she had no desire to run into Timothy.
Things hade to this; Jessica no longer wanted to feed Herbert empty stories about loving Timothy or refusing a divorce. She''d only said those things before to keep Herbert from getting dragged into her mess.
But at this point, even if she wanted to keep lying, she couldn''t.
With Timothy holding She like that, even the blind could see what was really going on.
Of course, Herbert was tactful enough not to mention Timothy''s behavior with another woman. There was no point in wounding Jessica further by spelling it out.
"All right, you go on home," he said gently. "We''ll talkter."
After giving her instructions for the medication, Herbert watched Jessica leave.
With She still in the exam room, Timothy emerged and tracked down a doctor to ask about Herbert''s office.
He knocked on the door.
"Come in," Herbert called.
The door opened, and Herbert looked up-only to see Timothy walk in.
Herbert couldn''t help but let out a short, mirthlessugh.
He remembered the day he''d returned to the country, that very first day he saw Jessica—Little Mute, as he called her-standing with him in the square, watching Timothy and She being mobbed by reporters on the airport''s big screen.
Timothy had imed, in front of everyone, that She was his aunt.
But Herbert had since done a little digging. There was no blood rtion between Timothy and She.
Their intimacy had no boundaries-''aunt'' was clearly just a smokescreen.
No wonder Little Mute insisted on divorce. Timothy was a loathsome man. He''d married her, yet treated her with such disregard.
Timothy settled into the chair on the other side of Herbert''s desk, his posture impossibly rxed and self-assured, every gesture radiating a kind of unapproachable elegance.
He was the sort of man who could make any woman''s heart flutter.
But so what?
Herbert had seen enough. His verdict was clear: Timothy was nothing but a cad.
Herbert fixed Timothy with a frosty stare and said nothing.
Timothy met his gaze evenly, his voice cool and edged with warning. "Mr. Herbert,
do you make a habit of getting involved with married women?"
"She won''t be married for much longer," Herbert shot back, unflinching.
As long as Jessica held firm, Herbert didn''t care what anyone called him. He''d survived far worse than this.