The Plane Tickets He Hoarded The Wife He Hid novel Chapter 198

198 Chapter 198 A Shadow In The

Doorway

Blanche’s POVO

That evening, Amara had some event to attend, so she waited until my family showed up before taking off.

Amber didn’t come tonight—instead, Quinton appeared at the hospital with dinner in hand.

Since I’d been stuck in this hospital bed, Quinton hadn’t bothered to visit me once.

Tonight marked his first appearance.

We’d grown up side by side, and Quinton was the serious type–never smiled much, always methodical about everything, with moods that could shift without warning.

Even though I knew my brother inside and out, being

alone with him still made me nervous.

I settled back against the bed rail, quietly picking at the dinner Quinton had brought.

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Quinton sat in the nearby chair, silently working on peeling an orange.

Once he finished, he arranged the segments in a neat little container.

After cleaning his hands, he looked up at me. “Where’s

Vincent?”

That day, Vincent had swept me up and carried me out of our family home.

Everyone had rushed to the hospital in a panic, but once they realized I just had a fever, Quinton calmly sent our parents back home.

He’d wanted to interrogate Vincent about why he was at the Callum house, but Amber had shut him down immediately–wouldn’t let him ask a single question and basically threw him out.

Quinton wasn’t stupid–he knew exactly what Amber was thinking.

So for the past couple days, even though Quinton had been genuinely worried about me, he’d stayed away from the hospital.

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It wasn’t that he didn’t want to check on me–he just knew that if he ran into Vincent, he couldn’t guarantee he wouldn’t lose his temper and maybe throw a punch.

Plus, Amber wouldn’t allow it. She’d flat–out banned him from coming to the hospital.

When Quinton brought up Vincent, I froze with my fork halfway to my mouth. I pulled back slightly, thinking, “Why does he have to bring up Vincent now?” Then I answered quietly, “He went home.”

Quinton’s eyes narrowed, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Seriously? The guy couldn’t even stick around for two days before running off?”

I pushed my food aside and started on the orange Quinton had prepared for me, taking my time.

While I ate, I said to Quinton, “He’s a Aarav by blood, so he’ll never really be one of us.”

Despite the sarcasm in Quinton’s tone, I could still hear his genuine concern for me.

He watched me, worry creasing his features. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t date, but at least pick someone

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reliable–someone stable, not caught up in all those fantasies people have about wealthy families.

Amber’s always praising Vincent, but honestly, I don’t see it. He barely lasted two days before he couldn’t handle it and bailed. You really think a guy like that could take care of you for life?”

I laughed softly and gave Quinton a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, Quinton–I won’t fall in love that easily again.”

Quinton studied me, and I could see nothing but a dull ache in his expression.

I’d been married to Zain for so many years–he could probably only imagine how much I must have endured.

If I wasn’t such a gentle person, why would I have ever brought up divorce in the first place?

The thought seemed to make Quinton blame himself— why wasn’t he strong enough to help me?

If only he’d been more capable, maybe things wouldn’t have ended up like this.

Quinton gave me a gentle but pained smile. “If you ask

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me, Demetrius’s pretty dependable–you’re both doctors, and his family background matches ours perfectly. And if that guy ever dares to mistreat you, you know I’ll have him marked with my handprint

within ten minutes.”

I giggled at Quinton’s words, then teased, “Quinton, Camila says she’ll take care of me when she grows up. So why can’t I just skip marriage altogether?”

Quinton relaxed his expression and smiled gently at me. “Of course you can.”

He’d prefer if I never remarried, but if I ever insisted on getting married again, Demetrius Jake was the only guy he’d approve of.

As soon as Camila came up, I perked up and asked, “Quinton, shouldn’t you be home with Camila?”

Quinton replied, “She’s at home preparing for our weekend trip. By the way, she wanted me to ask you-

still come with us for the autumn outing this

can you

weekend?”

We call it an autumn outing, but honestly, it’s practically winter already.

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Thinking about my promise to Camila, I said, “Of course I’m going. I promised Camila, so there’s no way I’m backing out.”

Quinton had wanted to stay with me, but in the end, I convinced him to leave and go back home.

After I got through the worst of those first two days with the flu, I was almost back to normal.

But later that night, out of nowhere, my fever returned.

Half–asleep, I heard someone push open my hospital room door from outside.

The lights in my room were off, and when the door opened, light from the hallway streamed in.

In my drowsy state, I could make out a figure standing in the doorway.

My vision was blurry, but I thought, ‘It must be Vincent.‘

My voice hoarse, I tried calling out, “Vincent?”

As soon as I spoke, I saw the shadowy figure pause,

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hesitating for a brief moment.

Gradually, as my eyes adjusted to the dim light, my

heart skipped a beat–I could finally make out the person’s face. To my shock, it wasn’t Vincent at all.

It was Zain.

Zain sat down beside my bed and reached over to feel my forehead, checking my temperature.

When he realized I had a fever, he pressed the call button and asked the nurse to bring some medicine.

After the nurse arrived with the medication and a

glass of warm water, Zain helped me take the pills, making sure I swallowed them.

Once I’d taken the medicine, Zain sat by my bedside, his gaze lingering on my sweat–dampened face. He leaned in slightly, his voice edged with suspicion.

“So, does he keep you company often?”

For a moment, I was confused by Zain’s sudden question. Then it hit me–he was talking about Vincent.

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Even though I felt weak, I shot back coldly, “Zain, what business is it of yours?”

Zain lowered his head, staring at me for a moment before finally saying, “We’re still married.”

I gave a bitter smile. “Only on paper. That marriage certificate is the only thing connecting us now. Without it, we’re nothing.”

Zain was quiet for a while before he finally asked, “If that piece of paper wasn’t binding us together, what would you do?”

I let out a soft laugh and threw the question back at him, “Why don’t you tell me?”

Honestly, even I didn’t know what I’d do.

Zain didn’t answer me, but he kept his eyes fixed on me, his gaze never leaving my face for even a second.

After closing my eyes and resting for a moment, I finally started to feel much better.

Zain still hadn’t left. When I opened my eyes again, I glanced at him and asked curiously, “You’re still here? Not going home?”

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At my question, Zain finally answered, “Carry told me to come stay with you.”

I wasn’t entirely convinced by his response.

Zain had always dismissed me, never once going out of his way to spend time with me–there was just no way he’d show up here on his own.

Honestly, I’d sooner believe Carry asked him to come

than think for even a second that Zain came of his

own accord.

I didn’t say anything more, but just then, Zain’s phone started ringing.

I glanced over and noticed Joanna’s name lighting up his screen.

But this time, instead of answering, Zain just hit mute.

That was unusual for him, and it left me puzzled.

While I was still wondering about it, Zain stood up and said, “You’re all sweaty. Let me get some warm water and clean you up a bit–you’ll feel more comfortable and sleep better.”

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Before I could even refuse, Zain’s phone chimed with a

text message.

He picked it up, glanced at the screen, and his brow furrowed.

After a moment of hesitation, he looked down at me and said, “I need to step out for a bit. I’ll be back soon.”

With that, he turned and walked out without

hesitation.

Watching him leave so decisively, I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself.

There was no way I was actually going to wait for him. Even though I was hot and sweaty and uncomfortable, it was bedtime–I needed my sleep.