The Transactional Marriage That Imploded novel Chapter 123

He resisted for a few minutes before ultimately giving in and unlocking his screen.

Forgetting her was going to be a process.

Milo had just dropped them off, and they hadn't discussed the divorce in the car.

The moment the front door closed, Xanthe immediately asked, "Tell me the details about the divorce you mentioned today."

Bianca simply handed over her phone. "The settlement is incredibly generous. Mathis bled himself dry just to preserve his new woman's reputation so he can marry her."

Xanthe carefully counted the zeroes on the agreement, uttering three quiet curses of sheer disbelief before bursting into laughter. "I don't care, you're my sugar mama now."

Bianca laughed along. "Don't worry, I'll keep you draped in gold and diamonds. No leftovers for you."

Xanthe immediately opened her phone, ready to order a Chanel Classic Flap bag that cost well over ten grand.

"Go for it," Bianca said generously. "It's really cute."

Xanthe remembered Bianca already owned that bag and had used it quite a bit. "You didn't leave behind all the designer stuff Mathis gave you, did you?"

Bianca nodded. "I don't even want the man himself. Why would I want his things?"

Behind the screen, Mathis felt a sharp stab in his chest. It hurt.

Hearing the truth directly was far more agonizing than just knowing it.

Xanthe understood her. "Good riddance. With that brilliant brain of yours, just secure another patent and financial freedom is yours. Just don't overwork yourself while you're pregnant. You can wait until after the baby is born to dive back into research."

"Xanthe," Bianca said, genuinely touched, "other than Mabel, you're the one who cares about me the most."

Xanthe laughed. "If you say that, Mr. Wilder might just cry himself to sleep. He really treats us like your protective family." She leaned on Bianca's shoulder. "Sigh. If only the person you met three years ago was Milo. You'd definitely be so happy right now."

Mathis found himself desperately wanting to hear her answer.

Bianca was a heavy sleeper and didn't wake up until ten-thirty. Dressed in cartoon pajamas and with messy hair, she padded around the living room.

Mathis's phone chimed with a notification, and he opened the feed again.

They weren't bothering each other. He was fine just quietly watching her, so long as she wasn't opening her mouth to hurl hurtful words at him.

Seeing her like this reminded him of the early days of their marriage. When she was in excruciating pain during her period, breaking out in cold sweats, he would feed her painkillers.

He had looked up a recipe for warm ginger tea online, but managed to slice his finger open before even getting started.

After stopping the bleeding, he clumsily finished brewing it. He memorized her cycle from then on.

Every month, as long as he was home, he would make it for her—for three whole years.

Yet she claimed he didn't love her. If he didn't, would he ever have stepped foot in a kitchen?