Goodbye, Mr. Regret

As for the brooch, she never accepted it. Just the sight of it made her angry.

And then there was that last gift bag left unopened on the bedroom Christmas tree.

"You did nothing wrong-it was all my fault. Go take care of it," Timothy said, ending the call. He bought himself a ticket to an early screening.

At the theater's promotional booth, he queued up to claim a fan gift-merchandise inspired by the movie's characters. Timothy received a glass bottle ornament with a tiny photo inside: the film's main characters, mother and son, smiling together. The glass sparkled in the light, beautiful and delicate.

He examined the character designs. The aesthetic was unmistakably Jessica's.

It felt like all the air had been sucked from the room. He couldn't breathe; his chest ached.

Timothy's gaze drifted toward the director, Carlisle, and he couldn't help recalling the day Yates had come to deliver the film materials. Vince had swooped in, snapping up the movie rights.

Had Vince already known, even then, how closely Jessica was connected to this film?

Timothy still didn't know exactly how, but the mere thought nearly gave him a heart attack.

Back then, he'd had the audacity to tell Yates he wanted to acquire the film for Sheila, to give her top billing, all so he could find a strong, dramatic role to launch her career.

Vince had reminded him that his own wife was an animator too.

What had he said in response? That a true genius wouldn't care about such things.

"Wow, isn't that Timothy? He actually came to see this movie!"

"I can't believe President Lawson is here in person, lining up for a fan gift like everyone else."

"He looks great-quick, get a picture, record a video!"

But Timothy was lost in his memories, oblivious to the growing buzz around him.

Carlisle, hearing President Lawson's name mentioned, glanced up. Sure enough, there was Timothy.

He knew Timothy was Jessica's husband. Jessica had given up her career for her family.

Carlisle's eyes darkened for a moment, but he kept smiling, helping the host with the film's promotion.

Timothy made his way inside to collect his ticket and wait.

Jessica, Vince, and Yates were already seated inside the theater. The three of them were the only ones there.

Yates and Vince sat on either side of her.

As the film began, the familiar music and imagery sent Jessica's heart racing. She'd never seen the finished cut before-she'd wanted to preserve the anticipation.

She and Carlisle had co-written the script, and he'd relied heavily on her ideas for the character designs—especially the protagonist.

It was, at its heart, a sweeping drama about a mother and her son.

At that time, she'd been thinking so much about her own son that it was

impossible not to pour herself into the story. So many scenes were filled with her love for her child.

The story opened in 2088: Mothers who'd died in childbirth journeyed to the Fetal Sea. Each umbilical corde transformed into a glass bottle adrift on the waves, every bottle containing a letter. If the letter failed to reach its destination, the bottle would shatter and the lost soul would remain forever trapped in the Fetal Sea.

After Gavin, the protagonist, received a battle from the Fetal Ferryman a message left to him by his late mother-the film retraced her harrowing ordeal at sea, he desperate struggle to bring him into the world, and her memories of pregnancy: life forming, mother and son bound by a single cord of blood.

Jessica could see Carlisle's painstaking attention in every frame. The film had no dialogue, relying on visuals to express everything, making every detail all the more

poignant. Gavin's story threaded

together three different tales of

mothers and sons, all bound by love

and loss.

In the end, Gavin became the new Fetal Ferryman, piloting the Mother and Child across the seven continents and eight oceans, carrying messages for others— until he, too, vanished into the depths, the film fading out with an aching sense of finality.

It ended in such profound stillness that the audience was left suspended, unable

to return to themselves, desperate for just a little more.

Timothy gripped his ticket, thinking of his own mother-how she'd left behind countless letters for him and Sallie, each one overflowing with love. She'd given her life so that he and his sister could have theirs.noveldrama

As the credits rolled, Timothy's eyes fell on two familiar names:

Director: Carlisle

Writer: Jessica

Producer: Jessica

...