The Billionaire Regretted Losing His Invisible Wife novel Chapter 204

“Better than I have in weeks,” I admitted, accepting the coffee gratefully. “Though I missed the usual 6 AM wake-up call of two small humans jumping on my bed.”

“They’ll be home soon enough,” he reminded me, dropping a kiss on my forehead. “Enjoy the peace while it lasts.”

My phone chimed with a text from my mother: Boys had breakfast, now at park with puppies. Home by noon.

I showed Thomas the message. “See? The calm before the storm.”

He laughed, moving to gather his things. “I should head out-meeting at the gallery at 9. Dinner tomorrow? I’ll cook.”

“Sounds perfect,” I agreed.

After Thomas left, I showered and dressed for the day, enjoying the rare luxury of an uninterrupted morning routine. As I was reviewing emails over a second cup of coffee, a notification from my banking app caught my

attention.

Deposit received: $15,000 – KB Trust for AJW/EEW.

The monthly allowance from Kyle. Regular as clockwork for four years, though the amount had increased as the boys grew older. A trust had been established with more money than I could ever spend in my lifetime, but these monthly transfers came separately-for immediate expenses, the accompanying note always said.

In the early days, I’d tried to trace the transfers, hoping they would lead me to Kyle. I’d hired private investigators, consulted computer experts, even once used Morton’s connections in financial security. Nothing. The money seemed to materialize out of thin air, the trust administered through layers of shell companies and digital barriers that even the best couldn’t penetrate.

I’d driven myself half-crazy those first two years, desperately searching for answers. Why had he left? Where had he gone? How could he walk away from his sons without a backward glance?

Eventually, I’d accepted the painful truth: Kyle didn’t want to be found. Whatever his reasons, he had chosen to erase himself from our lives, leaving only financial support as evidence he’d ever existed. The boys’ trust funds would ensure they never wanted for anything materially-the best education, opportunities, security-but no amount of money could fill the space where their father should have been.

I closed the banking app with a sigh. At least the boys were still too young to understand the complexity of their situation. They knew other children had dads, but they had so many loving adults in their lives-my mother, Scarlett, Thomas, Nate—that they hadn’t felt the absence too keenly yet.

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