FakeNovelChapter 44
Jessica stepped out of Herbert's car.
Herbert got out as well, slipping his hands into the pockets of his trench coat. He watched her go, his expression
soft, his gaze lingering as she walked toward the house.
She'd barely taken a few steps when his voice called out, quiet but clear. "Little Mute."
Jessica turned back.
Herbert's lips parted, as if he'd meant to say something else, but he simply said, "Goodnight."
Jessica smiled and signed goodnight in sign language.
Herbert stood there, motionless, watching until she disappeared inside.
Upstairs, Timothy pinched his cigarette between his fingers, snapping it in half. The glowing tip scattered sparks
onto the floor. He turned off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness.
Ding-
Jessica keyed in her code. The door swung open. She hadn't even reached for the light switch when strong arms
swept her inside, pinning her against the door as someone's lips crashed onto hers.
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A faint scent of tobacco, edged with cedar, filled her senses.
It took only a moment for her to realize it was Timothy.
She tried to pull away, but he'd already trapped her wrists, his grip iron-strong, his body pressing her immobile.
There was nowhere to run.
Her back was flat against the door, the cool wood biting through her clothes, chilling her to the bone.
Timothy's kiss was fierce, possessive, his heated breath mingling with hers, as if he wanted to consher
whole.
His hands slid along her waist, his touch hot against her skin. Jessica's nerves sparked at his every movement,
her body trembling out of her control.
Panic welled up. Tears pricked at her eyes.
She couldn't speak. Her resistance, feeble against his strength, was useless.
When she finally managed to cup Timothy's face with both hands, he seemed to think she was surrendering,
leaning in for another kiss.
But then-crack.
Her open palm landed hard against his cheek.
His head snapped to the side, a few pale fingerprints blooming on his skin. Whatever desperate need had been
burning inside him vanished in an instant, snuffed out by the sting.
He reached out and flicked on the lights.
Jessica instinctively crossed her arms over her chest, her breath coming in shaky gasps. Her tear-filled eyes
glared at Timothy, raw and wounded.
She was a mess-clothes rumpled, buttons torn away, hair in disarray-while Timothy, save for swrinkles in his
suit jacket, looked every bit the composed man he pretended to be. But his eyes, dark and bottomless, brimmed
with barely restrained fury.
Jessica's lashes trembled with unshed tears, her silent accusation hanging heavy in the air.
After a long moment, Timothy's voice broke the silence, cold and flat. "What, | can't even touch you now?"
He'd spent the night with Sheila...
Alone. Just the two of them. Who knew what had happened?
And now Jessica was asking for a divorce. How could he expect her to stay close
to him after that? Her shirt was already missing buttons, torn by his hands.
She glared at him, battered and furious, her movements sharp as she signed angrily, | told you-l want a divorce!
Timothy's eyes narrowed, a sneer curling his lips. "Don't test my patience."
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He didn't raise his voice, but the threat was unmistakable.
Jessica smiled, but it was a hollow, brittle thing.
Timothy's brow furrowed, tension building in the space between them.
Just then, Jessica's phone rang. She pulled it out-Mabel's nflashed on the
screen.
She didn't answer.
A moment later, Timothy's phone rang as well. Mabel again.
He picked up.
"Sir, it's Henry—he's burning up with fever. He keeps calling for his mom. | tried
Mrs. Carter, but she didn't pick up. Please, chright away."
"I'm on my way."
He hung up and grabbed Jessica by the wrist.
"Let's go—Henry's sick."
Jessica's heart clenched. Before she could think, she was already hurrying out the door, following Timothy into
the night.
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