The Plane Tickets He Hoarded The Wife He Hid novel Chapter 115

Back at the Callum Mansion, I made a beeline for the bathroom, desperate to wash away the day’s tension.

Once I was clean and dressed, I grabbed my phone, hoping to find something–anything–from Zain. Nothing. No texts, no missed calls,

not even a voicemail.

Had he even bothered to read what I’d written? Did he give a damn about the divorce papers sitting on his desk? I couldn’t tell, but one

thing was crystal clear–I wasn’t backing down.

If today’s conversation hadn’t gotten through to him, I’d corner him tomorrow. Still too busy? I’d try again the next day. Hell, I’d ask him

about our divorce every single day until he finally signed those papers.

The next morning, I dialed his number over and over. Each call went straight to voicemail. Since I had to get to the hospital, I gave up for

the moment.

At lunch, I tried again. His phone was completely dead.

By evening, I was ready to throw mine across the room, but I called one more time. He actually picked up, though the background noise

was deafening–probably out with Drew and Nicholas again.

The second he answered, I cut straight to the chase.

“Have you signed the papers yet?”

Zain barely caught what I’d said over whatever chaos was happening around him. “I’ll call you back,” he shouted into the phone.

Before I could get another word in, the line went dead. I stared at my phone, frustration bubbling in my chest.

Getting married had been Oswald’s doing–he’d practically dragged Zain to get that marriage certificate, and the whole thing took barely

any time at all. But getting divorced? Apparently that required an act of Congress.

If I’d known it would be this much of a nightmare, I never would’ve said yes to marrying him in the first place.

I stayed up waiting for his promised callback. It never came.

Friday rolled around, and I had the day off. I fired off another text asking about the divorce agreement. Radio silence, as usual.

With grad school applications breathing down my neck, I couldn’t afford to waste time obsessing over Zain’s avoidance tactics. I packed my books and headed to the library.

Hours into my study session, my phone buzzed to life.

Maybe Zain had finally grown a spine and decided to call back. But no–it was Patty.

I slipped into the bathroom to take her call.

“Blanche, tomorrow’s your birthday! Want to drive up to Darius and celebrate?” Her voice was bright with excitement.

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“I wish I could, Patty, but I’m drowning in grad school prep work. Plus there’s this whole divorce mess I’m dealing with.” The words felt

strange coming out of my mouth.

“Wait, what? Are you serious about both of those things?”

“Dead serious. I’m finally ready to live my life on my own terms.”

I could practically hear Patty grinning through the phone. “It’s about damn time! You’re too good to be stuck in some soul–crushing

routine, and definitely too good for people who don’t deserve you.”

We talked for ages, and she gave me some solid advice about the application process.

After hanging up, I sent Zain another message: [We need to meet and talk. Soon.]

His response didn’t come until late afternoon: [Out of town on business. I’ll reach out when I’m back.]

I read his text several times, my jaw clenching tighter with each pass. If Zain actually wanted this divorce, we could be done with it in a

day. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was playing games–either legitimately swamped with work or deliberately stalling.

He was head over heels for Joanna. Getting divorced should be a no–brainer for him.

Since pushing him while he was supposedly busy would get me nowhere, I buried myself in my textbooks instead. I spent the entire day

at the library until my eyes felt like they were on fire.

That evening, Demetrius called. “Blanche, up for dinner?”

With nothing else planned, I said, “Sounds perfect.”

“I can swing by and pick you up. Still at the library?”

I started gathering my things. “Thanks, but I can meet you there.”

He chuckled. “Fair enough. I’ll text you the address.”

Once I had the location, I swung by the Callum Mansion to drop off my books before heading out.

When Demetrius suggested dinner, I wondered if he had something special in mind. Tomorrow was my birthday, and I figured he might

want to celebrate early since my family would probably monopolize my time. Tonight felt like the perfect opportunity for a quiet

celebration–just the two of us.

I arrived at the restaurant around dinnertime. He was already there, studying the menu when the hostess called out cheerfully,

“Welcome!”

Demetrius glanced up automatically, and I could see a genuine smile spread across his face when he spotted me. But it died just as quickly when he realized I wasn’t alone in arriving–Drew and Joanna were making their way inside too,

Joanna approached his table, her smile practiced and warm. “Demetrius.”

His expression went stone cold in an instant. “Joanna.”

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She exchanged a meaningful look with Drew before sliding into the seat beside Demetrius uninvited. “What a coincidence running into

you. Mind if we join you?”

Demetrius didn’t even glance up from his menu. “You can eat wherever you want. Just not here”

Joanna’s smile wavered.

Drew looked ready to explode, but Joanna shot him a warning look.

She tried again, her voice soft and apologetic. “Demetrius, we’re both Professor Reese’s students. I’ve always respected your expertise.

Actually, I have some medical questions I’d love your input on–would you mind sharing some advice?”

Demetrius set down his menu, offering a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m hardly qualified to advise someone of your… caliber.”

The smile in his eyes held nothing but cold mockery.

Drew’s patience finally snapped. “Cut the crap, Demetrius.”

Just then, the hostess called out again, “Welcome!”

Demetrius looked up instinctively, and there I was, scanning the restaurant.

Joanna followed his gaze and spotted me too.

I walked into the restaurant and immediately spotted Demetrius–along with Drew and Joanna sitting at his table. The tension was thick

enough to cut with a knife.

Demetrius stood up the moment he saw me, completely ignoring Drew’s obvious anger. His voice was ice–cold as he addressed Drew.

“Mr. Stewart, I don’t put on acts. And I certainly don’t waste my time giving advice to people with questionable morals.”

He didn’t name names, but everyone in earshot knew exactly who he meant.

Joanna’s face went pale. She clearly hadn’t expected Demetrius to treat her with such open contempt.

They were both in the medical field, which was a small world. I knew Joanna admired Demetrius’s reputation, and they’d even had dinner

together once when Aiden organized it.

Back then, Demetrius had praised her–called her brilliant, beautiful, dedicated. A rare gem in surgery. But now he was looking at her like

she was something he’d scrape off his shoe.

Joanna’s eyes darted between Demetrius and me, probably wondering if I was somehow behind his changed attitude. But I was just an

undergrad, barely a real doctor yet. Why would Demetrius care what I thought?

She must have convinced herself that I’d poisoned him against her somehow.

Joanna opened her mouth to defend herself, but Demetrius was already walking away from the table, heading straight for me.

“Blanche, let’s find somewhere else to eat.” His voice was completely different now–warm and gentle, like switching from winter to spring.

I looked up at him, understanding immediately that he was standing up for me. Gratitude flooded through me, and I smiled. “Lead the

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way.”

Demetrius took my coat without asking, draping it carefully over my shoulders. “It’s getting cold out there. Don’t want you getting sick?

The simple gesture sent warmth spreading through my chest. “Thanks, Demetrius.”

We walked out together, leaving the toxic atmosphere behind us.

I caught a glimpse of Joanna as we left–tears were pooling in her eyes, probably because Demetrius had been so brutal in his dismissal of her, so different from the colleague who used to sing her praises.

Drew quickly handed her a tissue, his voice bitter. “Don’t cry, Joanna. You didn’t do anything wrong. Zain doesn’t love Blanche anyway. Honestly, the pathetic one is whoever keeps chasing after someone who doesn’t want them.”

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