He couldn''t afford to back himself into a corner.
So he stepped aside and let her pass.
Jessica swept into the room, her heels clicking against the hardwood. With a sharp bang, she mmed the door shut behind her.
A wave of helplessness washed over Timothy.
He remembered how easily she''d agreed to marry him all those years ago. Back then, winning her hand had been effortless. She''d always been so quiet, so undemanding-until she lost her temper. When she did, coaxing her back was nearly impossible.
Ever since she started thistest argument, he hadn''t managed tofort her, not even once.
The only time she''d softened was on her birthday, and even then, itsted just a couple of days before she stormed out again.
Frustrated and restless, Timothy left The Gilded Whisper Estates and got into his car. He pulled out his phone and called Yates Bryant.
"Want to get a drink?" Yates chuckled. "Are you out of your mind? It''s not dinner, it''s not even evening-it''s the middle of the afternoon. Shouldn''t we be having tea, not whiskey?"
"I need a drink," Timothy replied.
"Well, I don''t," Yates said tly. "Not in the mood."
"I''m in a lousy mood. Can''t you keep mepany, just this once?"
Something in Timothy''s voice made it clear he was at a low point.
Yates sighed. "Fine, fine. Since you''re about to get dumped, I''ll do you a favor and join you."
"Anywhere you want. My treat.”
"How about The Velvet Ivy? I''m nearby."
Timothy instructed his driver to head to The Velvet Ivy. The ce was across town, so it took nearly half an hour to get there. As they neared the entrance, Timothy sent Yates a quick text.
Yates replied that he was already waiting in a private lounge.
When the car pulled up outside The Velvet Ivy, Timothy stepped out-and immediately spotted the Bentley Jessica had been chasing earlier that day.
So the owner was here, too?
He pulled out his phone and called his assistant, Allen.
"I need you to check a license te for me," Timothy said, rattling off the numbers.
At the same time, Jessica was messaging Vince, asking him to look into the same
car.
ncing at the Bentley once more, Timothy ended the call and finally headed inside.
He leaned heavily on his cane as he entered the private suite. Yates nced up from his seat. "How''s the leg? Any better?"
"It''s been twenty days since the surgery. Shouldn''t be much longer now."
Thankfully, the injury hadn''t been as bad as it could have been. Four to eight weeks on crutches, the doctor said, but he could hardly wait to walk on his own again.
Yates poured them each a drink. "So, what''s got you in such a foul mood?"
"My wife''s finally talking," Timothy said with a wry smile. "She''s got a sharp
tongue, and honestly, I can''t win an argument with her."
It wasn''t just that—she actually had a point, and he knew it.
"Wait a second-she can talk? She''s not actually mute?"
Timothy nodded. "Some trauma when she was a kid. Caused her to stop speaking."
"So, did you find a doctor who could help her?" Yates asked, handing over a ss.
Timothy''s face clouded. "No."
"She recovered on her own?"
"Yeah," Timothy said quietly.
Yates raised his ss. "Your leg''s not healed yet. Are you sure you should be drinking? Maybe we should just have a smoke instead."
"I''ll just have a little. Helps with the cirction."
Timothy lifted his ss, but before he could take a sip, Yates shook his head. "You''re something else, you know that? She lost her voice for years, married you for seven, and you never once took her to see a doctor. That''s cold, man."
"I called you to have a drink, to help me forget my troubles. Why are you rubbing salt in the wound?"
Yates arched an eyebrow. "Hey, the truth hurts. That''s why no one likes hearing it. We''ve known each other forever, I''m not here to sugarcoat things and make you feel better. There are plenty of people who''ll do that. But nice words won''t solve your problems, will they?"
He clinked his ss against Timothy''s and took a slow sip.
"You''re right," Timothy admitted after a moment. "You''ve got perspective. Tell me, what can I do to make here back?"
Yates looked him up and down. "You want the truth or the kind lie?"
"No kidding," Timothy grumbled. "Of course I want the truth."
"Alright, then. Put yourself in her shoes. If you were her, would youe back?"
Jessica had said something simr earlier. If the situation were reversed-if she took Herbert out and someone mistook her for Henry''s mother, and she didn''t bother to clear it up-could he really me her for being upset?
"You''re the one with experience, man. Help me out here."
"Don''t give me that. I''ve only ever dated one person-I''m hardly an expert," Yates scoffed. "Honestly, Timothy, if I were your wife, I wouldn''te back either, not after everything you''ve done."
"What have I done? You''re supposed to be my friend. Why are you all siding with her?"
Timothy downed half his drink in frustration.
"It''s not about sides. You took your
son and yed happy family with She for years. After the divorce, you finally married the woman you couldn''t have before. That''s what most guys dream about-marrying the one who always felt out of reach. This should be your chance at happiness. Why torture yourself trying to win back someone you drove away?"
Timothy narrowed his eyes at Yates. If he didn''t know better, he''d suspect Yates had figured out Jessica wasz really Salome, the woman he''d
chasing after for years. Yates.en
seemed to be rooting for Jessica at every turn, as if he wanted her to leave for good.
“I''m done drinking. This is pointless."
Timothy set his ss aside.
"Oh, so now you don''t want to hear the truth. Let me ask you do you love She
or your wife?"
Timothy was silent for a long moment.
"Can''t even answer that, can you?" Yates said with a shake of his head.
"It''s not that I don''t know," Timothy replied quietly. "But love isn''t something you
talk about all day long. No point in discussing it with you. I''m leaving."
He grabbed his cane and moved to the door. The moment he swung it open, he caught sight of Vince and Jessica''s figures disappearing down the hallway.