Goodbye, My Love

Chapter 5---She Didn't Ask for Anything

Mason Cook's day had gone beyond mere discomfort—it was unbearable. He had thought divorcing Madeline would be a relief.

But as soon as the news broke, his phone was flooded with calls from his oldest friends.

Each call began the same way: "Mason, is it true you and Madeline are divorced?"

No surprise there. He hadn't planned to hide it, especially after the courthouse spectacle that morning—it was impossible to conceal.

He answered flatly: "Divorced."

The caller would gasp: "Wow, that woman finally let go of you? Mason, I don't know whether to congratulate you or feel sorry for you. A woman like Madeline—you won't find another like her in this city. She's only ever had eyes for you! Sure, she's a bit naive, easy to push around, broke, and maybe a little gold-digging—but when you think about it, what's not to love?"

Mason Cook, expecting congratulations, could only stare: "???"

What kind of friends were these?

And it wasn't just one. After three such calls, his face had darkened like a stormy sky.

But the fallout wasn't over. Just as he hung up on the last nosy caller, Hudson informed him that Mrs. Heather Cook had arrived.

With the divorce trending online, he knew why.

Heather had been grinning all the way to his office, thrilled her son was finally free of Madeline. But after seeing the trending topic, her joy faltered.

Why was Xavier suddenly linked to Madeline?

He claimed to have loved her in secret for years. Though he knew it was hopeless, he had prayed daily for her to escape the Cook family's "hell." Now that she had, Xavier—former secret admirer, now close friend—was overjoyed.

In just a few lines, Heather sensed layers beneath the surface.

Her smile vanished. She stormed into Mason Cook's office: "Mason, tell me the truth—did she cheat on you?"

No man wants to wear a bright green hat—even if the marriage had been a sham for three years.

Mason Cook's face turned cold. "Mom, what are you talking about?"

Heather had been humiliated by Madeline days earlier. Now, seeing claims that the Cooks had tormented her, calling it a "hell," and suspecting her son had been cuckolded, she couldn't stay calm.

"Look for yourself! The second you two walked out of the courthouse, this guy was there to pick her up! Who knows how long they've been together? The Cook family won't be made fools of!"

Mason Cook had been in meetings since returning from the courthouse. He had expected the news to trend, but not like this.

When he read "secretly loved her for years," something sharp pierced his chest. For a moment, he wondered—had Madeline agreed so quickly because she was already with this man?

But only for a moment. Even if he disliked her, he knew she had spent three years running errands for Heather—no time to cheat.

"Mom, we're divorced. Amicably. She took nothing. From now on, she's as good as dead to us. You'd do better ignoring these tabloids."

Heather wasn't angry just about the post. She had assumed Madeline would have clawed something from the Cooks. But now Mason Cook said she took nothing.

She couldn't believe it: "Nothing? She lived with us for three years—all for money! Now she divorces you and walks away empty-handed?"

Mason Cook had no patience left. He hit the intercom: "Hudson, bring the divorce agreement. Show it to my mother."

Then he grabbed his coat and stood.

Heather called after him: "Wait, Mason! Aren't you coming home for dinner?"

"Got things to do."

He rarely visited the Cook Family Villa—not just because of Madeline, but because his relationship with Heather wasn't as smooth as it looked.

Back in his apartment, silence was a relief.

The day's chaos had left no room to reflect. That morning, he had gone to the courthouse just to see what game Madeline was playing.

He hadn't believed she would actually divorce him. As Holden Prescott said, Madeline might be gold-digging, but she loved him—truly.

She was greedy—wanted both money and him. She wouldn't walk away easily.

So he hadn't even taken the copy she brought. But the first thing she did was hand him another identical one.

For a moment, he was stunned. He followed her lead like a puppet. By the time he realized, the divorce certificate was in his hand.

Now, in his pocket.

He pulled it out. Same red cover. But "Marriage Certificate" had become "Divorce Certificate."

It stung. He tossed it into the trash.

His phone rang. He glanced—no intention to answer.

But the caller kept redialing.

Frowning, he picked up. Saw the ID. His face darkened. "What?"

Holden Prescott. Mocked him earlier. Now calling again two hours later. Only more ridicule, he assumed.

"What? No bachelor party for the newly single?"

"f**k off."

He moved to hang up, but Holden said: "By the way, I'm at Madeline's single woman party. Your ex is splashing cash—covered all drinks at The Noctis Club tonight. That's a lot of your blood and sweat in there, huh?"

Mason Cook frowned. "She didn't ask me for a single cent."

"…"

This time, Holden was speechless. Everyone in Avenis knew Madeline was a gold-digger.

Years ago, when Heather fainted from low blood sugar, Madeline rushed her to the hospital. When Mason Cook asked what she wanted, she said ten million. Before he could respond, she upped it to a hundred million.

Someone filmed it. Mason Cook turned black with rage. But she wasn't done—she blurted: "I want you to marry me."

A hundred million wasn't enough. She wanted his fortune.

For three years, a marriage in name only. The whole circle laughed at her. They all assumed she would claw a fortune from him upon divorce.

But now Mason Cook said—she took nothing?