The Plane Tickets He Hoarded The Wife He Hid novel Chapter 179

179 Chapter 179 Years of Buried Pain

Blanche’s POV

I pressed my back against the wall, every ounce of energy drained from my body, my heart hammering wildly in my chest.

Carry’s sobs echoed from inside the room–raw, devastating sounds that clawed at my nerves with each desperate cry.

She was my daughter, my own blood.

Each broken wail felt like a knife twisting in my chest.

Zain moved toward me, reaching out, but I slapped his hand away before he could make contact.

“Don’t you dare touch me!” I snapped, my eyes blazing with fury and pain as I stared up at him.

He studied my face for a moment, then let his hand drop without a word.

Behind the door, Carry’s crying intensified, each sob more desperate than the last–and with every sound, I felt something inside me

shatter a little more.

I could see Zain felt it too. Despite his stone–faced expression, his worry was palpable. The truth was, I could tell he was terrified. This

was his only child, and I knew he’d never forgive himself if anything happened to her.

I fought to stay in control of myself.

I didn’t want to lose it or point fingers at Zain.

But Carry’s heartbroken cries wouldn’t stop.

They only grew worse.

Finally, I broke. I whirled around to face Zain, my eyes bloodshot and burning with accusation. “I warned you, didn’t I? I told you this

would devastate Carry! Why wouldn’t you listen to me?”

My chest heaved with ragged breaths, resentment flooding through every part of me,

Through all our years together–even when Zain left me waiting alone at home–I’d never lost control like this.

But now I was screaming at him, demanding answers, letting years of buried pain explode to the surface.

I knew Zain had never witnessed me this way. Even when I’d asked for divorce, I’d spoken quietly, barely raising my voice.

Faced with my furious accusations, he stood there, seemingly speechless.

I looked directly at him as tears streamed down my cheeks, falling like broken pearls from a shattered string.

I completely fell apart–couldn’t stop the tears, couldn’t think straight.

Zain stepped forward, his face etched with what looked like genuine concern, trying to embrace me, but I stumbled backward, throwing

my hands up to stop him. “Stay away from me, Zain. I can’t stand to look at you.”

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179 Chapter 179 Years of Buried Pain

His face darkened. “I know you’re angry with me, but Joanna mentioned missing Carry terribly. She’s been hospitalized for days without proper rest. I thought maybe Carry could comfort her, so I…

His voice faded.

I didn’t let him finish. Tears kept falling as I let out a harsh laugh.

“It’s always about Joanna with you–why don’t you just have a baby with her? One that’s actually both of yours?”

Zain’s scowl deepened. “I’ve told you before, Carry will be my only child. But if you want another, that’s up to you. If not, I’ll never have

another kid either.

I knew he seemed to cherish Joanna–remembering how he worried about pregnancy complications and feared the dangers of childbirth

for her.

But just because he protected Joanna, did that mean I had to suffer the consequences?

Wasn’t I a woman too?

Carry’s voice had turned hoarse from sobbing, but she couldn’t stop.

Listening to my daughter fall apart like this, I remembered how gentle and obedient she used to be. The teacher’s words echoed in my

mind, and I felt like my heart was being carved out piece by piece.

Every thought of Zain’s actions made my hatred for him grow stronger.

My eyes burned red as I demanded, “Zain, Carry is only a young child. Maybe she doesn’t always warm up to me, but she’s still just a

baby! What are you people trying to do to her?”

I was visibly shaking, but Zain fired back, “Could you stop being so melodramatic? What child doesn’t get sick occasionally? Kids end up

hospitalized–it’s normal. How can you be so certain she caught the flu here? Couldn’t it have happened at school just as easily?”

“Really, Zain? Carry’s in agony and you’re still defending Joanna?” I spat.

Zain turned away, avoiding my furious gaze. His voice was flat and dismissive. “I’m stating facts. You can’t pinpoint exactly where Carry

contracted the flu–not just because you claim so. What’s done is done, so why keep dwelling on the cause?”

I pressed my hand to my chest, feeling like someone was driving a blade straight through my heart. I forced myself to take several deep

breaths, trying to regain composure.

I stared at Zain, my voice steady but ice–cold. “You’re always claiming I’m unfit to be a mother. Well then, Zain, what about you? Do you think you’re such an amazing father?”

Zain shot me a look, his brows knitted tight. “What exactly are you getting at?”

I gave a bitter laugh. “Nothing. Just think about it, Zain. If you only care about having this one child, then maybe you should try developing some conscience.

Before Zain could respond, the hospital room door opened.

The nurse emerged pushing her cart, perspiration covering her face. She glanced between Zain and me, saying, “The IV is in, drip has

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179 Chapter 179 Years of Buried Pain

started. Just stay with your daughter for now, I’ll return later to check her temperature.”

My voice came out raspy as I replied, “Thank you.”

As soon as I spoke, I pushed open the hospital room door and went inside.

Zain followed silently behind me, entering as well.

Carry lay against her pillow, her small face splotchy from crying, her eyes puffy and red like little swollen peaches. She’d stopped wailing, but her tiny body still shook with trembling, hiccupping breaths.

I sat beside the bed, gently smoothing Carry’s damp hair from her face. “Are you feeling any better?” I asked softly.

When Carry heard my voice, her eyes flickered, and fresh tears spilled down her cheeks.

But she didn’t speak, just continued crying quietly to herself.

I didn’t mind Carry’s silence, simply took her small, chubby hand in mine to examine it.

Several swollen, red welts marked the back of her hand from the IV attempts, and a thin stream of blood still seeped from the puncture

wounds.

I saw Zain notice it too as he approached, and I could see his heart clench painfully. He likely felt it was too brutal for a child of Carry’s

age.

Just then, the nurse returned to the room, carrying a temperature gun.

I saw Zain’s face contort with rage the instant he saw her. “How could you butcher the IV like that? Were you using my daughter for

training?”

The nurse’s face immediately flushed crimson, and she stuttered, “Sir, I’m recently hired, and honestly, my skills still need improvement,

but your daughter wasn’t cooperating earlier, and I…”

Zain didn’t wait for her excuses, barely glancing at her before stating in a calm, authoritative voice, “Don’t bother coming in tomorrow.”

The nurse’s face, which had been burning red moments before, instantly drained of all color.

The nurse, who appeared new to the job, seemed to have no idea who Zain actually was. From his demeanor and presence alone, she

became so visibly frightened that she burst into tears immediately.

I could see Zain felt a surge of irritation at the nurse’s crying, and I intervened before he could explode. “Zain, if you’re going to have a meltdown, just get out. This is a hospital–not your personal kingdom.”

Being in healthcare myself, I understood exactly how overwhelmed the nurse must have felt.

Carry’s veins were incredibly tiny and fragile, and with her lack of cooperation, it was understandable that the nurse needed several

attempts to succeed.

I knew Zain was worried sick about Carry, but that didn’t justify taking it out on the nurse,

Besides, Carry needed rest.

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179 Chapter 179 Years of Buried Pain

Zain had clearly been ready to lose his temper, but my outburst brought him back to his senses. He fell silent, his anger visibly deflated,

and said nothing more.

The nurse, grateful that I had intervened, quickly moved to take Carry’s temperature.

But when she read the result, it was still above 39°C–no improvement whatsoever.

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