The Plane Tickets He Hoarded The Wife He Hid novel Chapter 189

189 Chapter 189 Whether I Lived Or

Died

Blanche’s POVO

Amber’s words carried a deliberate edge as her gaze found me lounging against the bedrail.

I could tell she’d picked those words on purpose.

Every syllable reached my ears, but I kept my expression blank, focusing on my soup like I hadn’t caught a thing. She really expects me to take the bait? Not happening.

Vincent’s attention shifted to me too–he knew I’d heard everything and was playing dumb. A flicker of amusement crossed his features.

But he didn’t press. Instead, he gave Amber a subtle smile. “Thanks, Amber, but whether I’m really

someone’s life partner–that’s Blanche’s call. If she thinks I am, that’s what counts.”

Amber’s smile never wavered. “Well, just remember— luck favors those who try.”

Vincent’s smile felt forced. “I hope you’re right.”

When it came to winning me over, he seemed to swing between confidence and doubt.

Like now–Amber was practically handing him the perfect setup, but I gave him nothing.

Vincent didn’t seem bothered though. He probably figured I wasn’t thinking about anything romantic since my divorce wasn’t final yet.

His thoughts were probably running along the lines of: Once she’s free, I’ll put everything into winning her heart. She’ll have to let me in eventually.

After I finished my soup, Vincent collected the bowl and started clearing away the containers from my

bedside table.

Amber watched Vincent’s attentiveness with obvious

approval.

She settled beside me, taking my hand, and shot a glance toward Vincent before leaning in. “I bumped into Zain downstairs.”

Worry flooded through me instantly. “Did he cause

problems? Was he bothering you?”

Amber squeezed my hand, clearly concerned, and decided on honesty. “Zain mentioned he’s been trying to contact you. Apparently Carry’s in the ICU.”

I shot upright. “What? I need to see Carry now!”

As a doctor, I understood the gravity–a simple flu landing someone in intensive care?

My chest tightened with dread.

Regardless of everything else, Carry was still my child.

Whether she lived or died–whatever happened–I had to be there. I couldn’t abandon my daughter when her life hung in the balance.

Amber, being a mother herself, recognized my panic immediately and offered softly, “I’ll come with you.”

Her support and concern touched me deeply; I nodded gratefully. “Okay.”

Vincent, still cleaning up, had caught our entire exchange.

Seeing both Amber and me preparing to leave for

Carry, he jumped in eagerly, “I’ll come along too.”

I was his only concern.

If I were healthy, he wouldn’t have insisted on tagging along.

But right now, with my fever still burning, he wasn’t about to let me go alone.

I hesitated briefly, then decided against it.

Vincent saw my resolve and didn’t argue.

He told himself: Doesn’t matter if she refuses–I’m following anyway, even if I have to do it secretly.

Amber helped me as we headed toward the pediatric ward together.

When we arrived, I spotted Zain and Heidi on a hallway bench, sitting in complete silence–neither speaking, just existing in that heavy quiet.

Footsteps made Zain look up. When he saw how drained I looked, his brow creased with worry.

Whatever questions he’d planned to ask me died on his lips.

With Carry out of immediate danger, Zain probably figured there was no point in prolonging the drama.

He didn’t have the energy for more fights anyway.

When Zain stayed quiet, I had to break the silence. “How’s Carry?”

Zain answered in a flat, reluctant tone, “She’s in the

ICU.”

His vague response irritated me, sharpening my voice. “I asked about her condition, not her location.”

Hearing my frustration, Zain finally exploded, “You have time to interrogate me now, but when I texted you, why didn’t you come take care of her?”

I let out a bitter, self–deprecating laugh. “Are you absolutely sure Carry wants my care? Does she even want me around? Let’s face it, the people she needs are you and Joanna. Do you think she’d be happy with me hovering around playing caregiver?”

Instead of responding, Zain’s eyes turned red–rimmed as he muttered, “But regardless, you’re still her

mother.”

That word-“mother“-felt like chains binding me in

place.

I was trembling, barely able to stay upright, but Amber gripped me firmly, terrified I might collapse.

Meeting Zain’s cold, bloodshot stare, I drew a long, shaky breath. “Zain, I’m human. I’m not some machine -I can’t just revolve around Carry constantly.”

Exhaustion made my voice hoarse and scratchy, barely

audible.

Zain raised his face to look at me, fighting to control his emotions. “So you can just ignore whether your daughter lives or dies? You–look at the messages I…” his words faded.

But before he could finish, I exploded. My voice erupted, completely drowning out his. “And who’s ever given a damn whether I lived or died?”

My outburst made the veins bulge on my neck and face, my eyes instantly flooding with blood–red

streaks.

Right after I screamed, my throat erupted in fierce

itching and pain, triggering uncontrollable coughing- until blood pooled in my palm.

Amber quickly pressed tissues into my hand and rubbed my back gently. “Blanche, don’t get so worked up. Even if others don’t care whether you live or die, you need to protect yourself.”

Heidi was startled, instinctively rising to help me, but Amber turned to Zain, her voice thick with bitter frustration. “Blanche’s been running a high fever since last night. She only learned Carry was in the ICU when I ran into you. The second she heard, she insisted on coming. She nearly fainted multiple times on the way here, but she still made it. If you claim Blanche doesn’t care about her daughter, I’ll never believe it. If she didn’t care, she wouldn’t risk her health to be here.”

After that, Amber looked at me again. “Blanche, let’s go. I’m taking you back.”

I was completely drained. I didn’t want to stay another minute, so I nodded.

As Amber supported me toward the exit, she glanced back at Zain. “Zain, you need to think about all this.”

Zain absorbed Amber’s words, and suddenly some of his anger dissipated, replaced by a heavy, conflicted feeling he couldn’t shake.

When he looked at me, it struck him–I wasn’t doing much better than Carry. If anything, I looked equally fragile.

Deep down, he cared intensely, but when he tried to speak, none of his intended words would surface.

Heidi, witnessing this, grew frantic. “Mr. Jacob, Mrs. Jacob is in such bad shape–you should go after her!”

Zain didn’t acknowledge Heidi. Instead, he said, “You should go home. Make sure to bring Carry breakfast early tomorrow.”

Heidi sighed helplessly and departed too.

Just as Amber was helping me toward the elevator, the doors parted.

As they opened, Vincent emerged.

Seeing me on the brink of collapse, he didn’t hesitate. In two quick steps, he scooped me into his arms.

Right then, the adjacent elevator doors opened as well.

Joanna exited the elevator just in time to witness Vincent lifting Blanche into his arms.

She stopped short, then called out, “Mr. Aarav?”

Vincent completely ignored her, but Amber–usually all sweetness and light–showed her claws. “Smart dogs know not to block the path. Ms. Vins, you don’t want to be that kind of bitch, do you?”

With that, Amber slammed the button to close the

elevator doors.

As the doors sealed shut, Joanna released a cold, scornful laugh. “What a pathetic pushover–letting everyone trample all over her.”