Goodbye, Mr. Regret

Yates kept berating Vince, oblivious to the fact that someday, the tables would turn.

Vince drained his glass in one gulp.

He couldn't ignore the way Yates spat out his name he felt it, sharp as a slap.

When he heard the crash, his heart lurched in panic.

Two years ago, he'd orchestrated that mess on purpose. Yet Timothy hadn't really blamed him. He'd even shelved the project entirely. Vince had known full well that if he stayed out of it, Timothy would soon revolutionize the entire future of

renewable energy.

It was thanks to his own efforts or rather, the bond between them-that he'd managed to stall things, buying the industry two precious years to catch its breath.

Of course, the real reason was that Timothy hadn't been out for blood.noveldrama

Vince understood all of this better than anyone.

"So what now? Feeling guilty? Regretting it? What good does that do? Once you set your heart loose, can you really take it back?"

Yates, for his part, wasn't all that worried about Timothy. After hearing Vince's account, he figured Timothy would probably wake up in less than forty-eight hours. The guy was in great shape, drove well, and could think on his feet better than anyone Yates knew.

In a situation that dangerous, Timothy would have managed to dodge the worst of

it.

Vince hadn't mentioned the part where he stabbed Timothy-but then, Timothy hadn't held it against him either.

And honestly, Vince didn't regret it.

Given how things were at the time, he hadn't had much of a choice.

"Say something. Why are you so quiet all of a sudden?" Yates was starting to lose his patience.

"Yates, some things just aren't that easy to explain."

"What's so hard about it? This all happened because you had your eye on your friend's wife! Get a grip, will you? Stay out of it from now on When Timothy wakes up this time, don't count on him forgiving you. Honestly, what a mess. And don't pretend you didn't hear Kane that night-he said his wife was mute, and you smashed your glass."

"But I don't regret sending her away."

Every time Vince remembered the way Jessica looked at him-like a shattered porcelain doll-he wanted to help her, no matter what it cost. Even if it meant turning Timothy against him, even if it tore him up to see Timothy like this, he was determined to get her out, to send her wherever she wanted to go.

"You're unbelievable. Just tell me where you sent her. I'll go get her and bring her back myself."

Yates was convinced that was the only way to fix things between Vince and Timothy.

"I'm not telling you. It took everything to get her out."

Yates drank with Vince all night, but no amount of whiskey brought them closer to

a solution.

Around eleven, Vince's phone rang-Sallie. Timothy was awake.

The two of them rushed to the hospital.

Apparently, the first thing Timothy did after regaining consciousness-bruised and battered as he was-was demand to see Vince.

When Vince and Yates reached the

f

hospital room, Yates took in the scene: Timothy's head was bandaged, his right leg in a cast, handsome face marred with cuts and bruises. Yates frowned; the injuries looked bad.

Timothy narrowed his eyes, cold and unreadable, his voice slicing through the room like a blade: "However you managed to send her away, you'd better bring her back the same way. Or else..."