My Goodbye His Regret Chapter 2

Distracted, I wasn’t watching where I was going and bumped right into someone in the lobby.

“I’m so sorry,” I mumbled automatically.

“It’s alright, Mrs. Finch.”

I looked up at the sound of the voice and met a pair of bright, clear eyes in a face that radiated an almost ethereal innocence.

She smiled, her eyes curving into gentle crescents.

“The panel isn’t over yet. Aren’t you going to wait for Professor Finch?”

It was Lily Monroe. I’d seen her a few times when I’d visited Arthur’s lab. She was one of the very few people who knew about our marriage.

Before I could answer, my eyes caught on the tailored wool coat draped over her arm. It was identical to the one I’d picked out for Arthur. But he was obsessively clean, a man who recoiled from anyone touching his personal things, especially his clothes.

It must be a coincidence, I told myself.

But then, following my gaze, Lily let out a soft, musical laugh.

“Oh, this? Professor Finch lent it to me during that rainstorm last week,” she said. “I just had it dry-cleaned and was bringing it back to him. We’re heading to the lab together after this.”

She then lifted the thermos in her other hand. “He’s been a little under the weather, so I brewed him some herbal tea.”

I said nothing.

She watched me, her head tilted. “You don’t mind, do you, Mrs. Finch?”

Beneath the flawless, harmless facade, the challenge was unmistakable. My gaze flickered to the cheerful pink flowers painted on the thermos, a stark contrast to everything I knew about my husband’s minimalist tastes.

I managed a faint smile. “Thank you for taking care of him. I have to go, I have another engagement.”

I turned, but her voice followed me, sharper this time.

“Don’t you see it? Arthur doesn’t love you at all. He won’t even tell the world you exist. What’s the point of clinging to a marriage like this?”

I stopped. I turned back and looked at her, my expression calm. I opened my mouth to say something, but the words wouldn’t come.

Instead, I walked out into the crisp afternoon air. Under the weak sun, I unfolded the crumpled lab report and stared at the clinical, damning words, lost in thought.