Chapter 61 Signing the Divorce Agreement
Matilda didn't respond, just stared at the breakfast bags in his hands.
Ethan smiled. "Have you eaten yet?"
She obviously hadn't.
This was an old neighborhood surrounded by classic breakfast joints selling pancakes, bacon, scrambled eggs, and coffee—cheap and convenient. No need to cook at home.
But she didn't want to accept his breakfast, so she nodded. "Already ate."
"Oh, good. I only bought two servings. My sister loves sleeping in—she's probably still in bed right now."
So it was for his sister.
Matilda smiled faintly. "Well, enjoy your meal then."
"Will do. I'll head up now," Ethan said.
He didn't push or deliberately linger, acting like a completely normal neighbor.
Matilda felt relieved.
With the divorce still pending, she really didn't want to deal with emotional complications.
...
At the hospital, she was supposed to attend the morning briefing first, but Wesley intercepted her. "Someone wants to see you. They're in the director's office—you should head over."
Matilda paused, then walked toward the director's office.
Outside the door, Francis was standing in the hallway. Seeing her approach, he said, "Dr. Spencer, go on in. Someone's waiting for you inside."
"Dr. Stewart, what about you?"
"Dr. Parker and I have other matters to discuss. Just go ahead." Francis left almost immediately, as if he couldn't wait to escape.
Matilda hesitated.
Anyone who could make Francis act so deferentially had to be seriously important.
She pushed open the door.
Inside sat an unfamiliar woman, around forty, wearing an exquisitely tailored suit with a polished, efficient demeanor—the kind of presence that came from years of corporate battlefields.
"Hello, Dr. Spencer." The woman introduced herself first. "I'm Linda, Ms. Sanders's assistant."
"Ms. Sanders?" Matilda frowned.
Linda smiled. "Your current mother-in-law. Wentworth's mother. She sent me to discuss something with you."
Matilda's heart jolted, then she smiled back. "She wants me to leave Wentworth? Here to negotiate terms?"
She never imagined those ridiculous TV drama plotlines would actually happen to her—the male lead's mother throwing money at the female lead to disappear from her son's life.
Linda pulled a document from her briefcase and handed it to Matilda. "This is the divorce agreement Ms. Sanders has drafted, including her compensation offer. The house in Sunshine Community and that SUV will be yours, plus ten million dollars in compensation. Does that seem adequate?"
Matilda pushed the agreement back. "That's way too much. I only want fifty thousand dollars. Wentworth pretended to be poor and took fifty thousand from me initially. I don't want to be shortchanged—just return that money and we're even."
Linda was stunned. She hadn't expected Wentworth to pull something like that—after all, his annual dividends from the group were deposited directly into his account. His yearly income was far beyond tens of millions.
"Dr. Spencer, are you certain you don't want the rest?"
"If Ms. Sanders insists on compensating me, please donate that money to the Sunshine Medical Foundation instead. After all, I did help Wentworth too. He could only sleep because of me," Matilda said coolly.
Linda looked at her with growing respect. "Dr. Spencer has backbone. I'll revise the agreement right now to reflect only the fifty thousand."
"Go ahead and change it. Once you do, I'll sign."
Linda used the director's office computer to modify the agreement. During the process, she couldn't help glancing at Matilda again.
She'd met countless women and could tell this Matilda appeared gentle on the surface but was stubborn to her core.
Setting aside family background and social class, she and Wentworth should actually be quite compatible.
Perhaps out of sympathy, Linda spoke up. "Dr. Spencer, Ms. Sanders really isn't targeting you personally. If you'd ever seen Wentworth's real home, you'd understand the gap in your social positions."
"Is that so? Maybe I'll take a look sometime," Matilda said mildly.
Soon the revised agreement was printed.
Matilda skimmed through it, confirmed everything was correct, then pulled a pen from her white coat pocket and signed her name with decisive strokes.
...
Today she was working outpatient clinic.
Working outpatient was like combat—patients streaming in nonstop from morning to night with barely a moment to breathe.
After her shift, she noticed several missed calls on her phone.
Only one from Wentworth. He'd probably given up when she didn't answer.
Seven from Zoey.
She called Zoey back.
"Matilda, are you okay?" Zoey asked immediately upon pickup.
"I'm fine. What's wrong?"
"My dad told me about you and Mr. Wentworth Gonzaga. I had no idea your boyfriend was the second son of the Gonzaga family!"
"You know him too?"
"Met him a few times as a kid, but no real impression. But this morning my dad attended a meeting Amelia called. Dad's good at reading people—he could tell Amelia was desperate for sleep medication research and figured she must have issues with you. He subtly probed Charles about it."
Zoey's voice dropped. "Charles didn't say much, but Dad already guessed—Amelia came back specifically to break you two up."
Though Amelia wasn't the Gonzaga Group's founder, she'd multiplied the company's scale several times over a decade ago. She commanded tremendous respect in both the board and business circles—a renowned female entrepreneur in Phoenix City.
She was decisive and ruthless. When Amelia set her mind to something, no one could stop her.
So Sawyer had shared this intel with Zoey—partly to have her gather information under the guise of concern, partly to gauge developments and decide whether to side with Amelia or Charles.
"Do you know where the Gonzaga family estate is?" Matilda asked.
"Of course! I went to their house several times as a kid for parties—Dad took me. That place is huge, like a museum. Though they stopped hosting parties after their family tragedy... probably because your boyfriend's father passed away."
"Could you take me to see it?"
"You want to go to Gonzaga Manor? Absolutely, I'll take you!" Zoey thought she was planning to confront them and encouraged, "Matilda, love shouldn't be about matching social status. If you like Mr. Wentworth Gonzaga, you should go to war!"
...
After work that evening, Matilda met Zoey at their agreed location.
This was Phoenix City's northern mansion district, far from downtown, home to only the ultra-wealthy. Expansive landscaping separated each property with vast lawns and forests.
These weren't just houses—they were estates, each with private driveways and grounds.
Zoey picked her up by car and drove straight to Gonzaga Manor's entrance.
"Matilda, this is it!" Zoey pointed toward the brilliantly lit estate ahead.
Massive wrought iron gates separated the manor from the outside world into two different realms. Gardeners were trimming hedges in the gardens while security guards at the entrance immediately looked alert as their car approached.
Zoey unbuckled her seatbelt. "Matilda, let's go in."
Matilda immediately stopped her. "No, we're not going in."
"Not going in?" Zoey was confused. "Aren't we here to declare war?"
"Love isn't warfare." Matilda smiled. "Let's just look around the area first."
"Oh, you want to scout the territory first? Smart—let's do a lap and build up courage before the battle!" Zoey was excited like a girl about to storm a castle.
The car drove slowly along the estate's perimeter.
Some sections had high walls blocking the view inside; others had iron railings revealing glimpses of gardens.
As night deepened, the manor's lights came on one by one, creating a golden glow in the darkness like another world entirely.
Thinking of her cramped old apartment, Matilda couldn't help but sigh. They really were from completely different social strata—two entirely separate worlds.
How ridiculous that she'd once thought Wentworth was just slightly better off than her.
Linda was right—she truly wasn't worthy of Wentworth.
Zoey suddenly said, "I just remembered something Dad told me. About that equipment we sold your hospital? Your boyfriend was the one who contacted him about it."