Unmatched Wife: Not His To Claim Anymore novel Chapter 110

Chapter 110

Chapter 110

BIANCA

There was a particular cruelty in knowing he was close–this city, this neighborhood, maybe streets I walked daily—and doing nothing. Being nothing. Remaining a ghost because anything else was too dangerous.

He’ll heal, I told myself, the same thing I’d been telling myself since Rivera’s confession. Children are resilient. He has his father. He has Dr. Fisher. He doesn’t need to know his mother is alive; he needs to learn to live with the version of events he has.

And the other part of me–the part that remembered his weight in my arms, the particular smell of his hair, the way he laughed with his whole body–that part was less convinced.

I ducked into the small break room that the attending physicians had quietly claimed as their own and sat down with a cup of coffee, giving myself five minutes to be human.

The conversation with Rivera this morning had been circling in my mind all shift.

Not just the revelation about Matthew and Theo being in BloodMoon City.

But there was something else. Something in the way Rivera had hesitated when I’d asked if there was more.

I’d noticed it. He’d opened his mouth, that pause before words, and then Louis had wandered in asking about breakfast and the moment had broken and I’d been too overwhelmed by everything already disclosed to push.

But I’d noticed.

Which meant there was more. Something else he hadn’t told me yet.

Klaus claiming to be the Alpha King had seemed genuine–too genuine, too relieved, like a man who’d been carrying a secret uncomfortably long. And the way Rivera had looked when Klaus said it. Not surprised, but watching me very carefully.

I knew that careful watching. I’d seen it before I’d been told about Matthew. The watchfulness of a man waiting to see how a

disclosure landed.

Which meant Rivera had known Klaus was going to tell me. Had possibly arranged it, or at least not prevented it.

Why tell me about the Alpha King through Klaus rather than himself?

Because Klaus was the Alpha King and it was his truth to tell? Maybe. That was the obvious interpretation. Maybe bring his fridn doesn’t mean telling his secrets unless Klaus wanted him to do so.

Stop it, I told myself. You’re tired and emotionally wrung out and you’re constructing paranoid assumptions out of a hesitation

and a look.

But I didn’t fully believe myself.

The door opened and James stuck his head in. “Break time’s over. We’ve got a walk–in with what looks like a hexed personal object causing dermal bonding. Your specialty, I believe.”

I stood, pushing the coffee cup away. “A hexed what?”

“A ring. That may or may not have fused to his finger.”

“…Why does that only happen on my shifts?”

“Because the universe loves you specifically,” James said cheerfully, holding the door open.

I followed him back into the controlled chaos of the trauma unit, back into the work that demanded everything and gave back clarity in return.

Chapter 110

+25 Bonus

By late afternoon, I’d treated the ring situation (curse dissolved, finger saved, lecture delivered about purchasing magical objects from unlicensed vendors), managed two more standard trauma cases.

I was at my desk working through documentation when my phone buzzed with a text from Rivera: Louis wants to know if you’ll be home for dinner. I want to know the same thing. No pressure either way.

I looked at the message for a long time.

No pressure either way. That was Rivera, learning from this morning. Giving me room, just offering and then stepping back.

It would be so easy to be angry at him. He’d kept significant secrets, had made decisions on my behalf that weren’t his to make, had let fear of losing me drive him to the exact behavior most likely to make me distrust him.

He’d done to me, in miniature, what Matthew had done for years–controlled information to control outcomes. To prevent me from making choices he was afraid of.

He knew that.

But Rivera’s deceptions had come from a place I recognized. Terror of loss.

It wasn’t right. It had hurt me, and it was going to take time to rebuild the trust that his omissions had damaged.

But it wasn’t the same as Matthew. Matthew had lied to me about his nature–had constructed a version of our marriage

designed to diminish me, had made me feel inadequate by design, had ultimately tried to end my life.

Rivera had lied about his best friend’s identity and about information that concerned my past. Badly done. Genuinely harmful. But not the same type of manipulation as Matthew.

The distinction mattered. Even when I was furious, it mattered.

I typed back: *I’ll be home by seven. Tell Louis I said yes on dinner.*

A pause. Then: *Thank you.*

Just that. No explanations, no attempts to manage my emotional state, no asking what it meant. Just thank you.

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