NovelEnglishChapter 36
Jessica curled her fingers tightly.
"Of course I'm sure." Henry replied cheerfully, "If | give this to Miss Sheila, | get to see it too. And if Miss Sheila
knows it's because ofthat she got this piece, maybe she'll likeeven more."
The fabric Jessica was holding suddenly slipped from her hand and hit the floor with a dull thud.
Timothy and Henry both turned around.
When Henry saw Jessica, his eyes lit up. He hadn't seen his mother in days, and he missed her. He was about to
jump up and run to her, but then he remembered -Mom never seemed too happy that Miss Sheila was living with
them. If Mom cback, she'd probably send Miss Sheila away, and then Miss Sheila wouldn't be able to take
him to the paper crafts competition.
Part of him wanted his mom to leave again.
So he stayed put on the couch, not moving an inch.
Maybe if he acted cold, Mom would decide to leave.
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Jessica bent down and gathered the fabric into her arms. She hadn't expected to find Timothy at home. Neither
of them spoke to her, and as she was about to head to her room, Timothy stopped her.
"Pack up. We're going back to the manor."
Timothy was planning to return early-his grandfather had asked for her homemade chicken soup. It was already
late; she wouldn't have tto make it. Jessica tucked the fabric under her arm and signed quickly with her
hands.
"I'm tired. | don't want to go."
Timothy's expression darkened. He looked down at Henry and said, "Go change your clothes."
Knowing they were going back to the manor, Henry obediently trotted off to his room.
When Timothy turned again, Jessica had already slipped into the bedroom. He got up, followed, and closed the
door behind him.
Jessica was putting the fabric away when Timothy caught her slender wrist and pulled her toward him.
Their eyes met.
Timothy's gaze was icy, his brows dusted with a chill. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Jessica yanked her hand free and turned her face away, refusing to look at him for even a second longer. She
couldn't speak, and even if she could, she wouldn't have bothered.
Timothy felt a flush of anger and humiliation.
"You weren't like this before. Is it because that guy outside gave you snew sense of confidence?"
Jessica turned, furious, her eyes red as she glared at him.
Their marriage had cto this, and yet he blamed her.
Timothy let out a bitter, humorless laugh.
Jessica's eyes were striking-dark, clear, framed with long lashes like sunflowers. In seven years of marriage,
she'd never treated him coldly. Her beautiful eyes
always shimmered with warmth. But today, she was truly angry at him.
Timothy's gaze hardened, cold as steel. "If you care so much about that man, why you make our marriage
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did
She hadn't. She had no idea why he'd say that.
She didn't want to explain, but she refused to let him pin this on her.
She signed again, hands moving swiftly, her pale fingers quick and graceful. "Let's get a divorce."
Timothy's jaw tightened. He pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth, lifted a hand as if to reach for her,
then drew it back, crossing his arms instead. His eyes were so sharp, it felt as if they could pin her in place.
He sneered, "So you found your backup and can't wait to divorce me, is that it? You're not even fighting for our
son?"
Not that she could win custody anyway. And what would it matter? She only had six months to live-after she
died, Henry's guardianship would go right back to him.
She signed again. "Divorce is between you and me. No one else."
"You went public with our marriage without telling me, and | haven't even called you out for it. Now you're
picking a fight for a divorce? You really have snerve."
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