The Plane Tickets He Hoarded The Wife He Hid novel Chapter 199

199 Chapter 199 Never Remember

The Promises

Blanche’s POV

The Juniper Bar glowed under sultry, dim lighting.

In the upstairs VIP section, three men gathered around a table.

Noelle arrived last, finding two bottles of red wine already uncorked and waiting.

Vincent had claimed the corner spot, having already polished off more than a full bottle. Kingsley sat beside him, desperately trying to reason with him, but

despite talking until his voice grew raw, Vincent kept refilling his glass.

Something was clearly wrong. Noelle settled next to Kingsley and asked, “What’s going on with him?”

Kingsley released a defeated sigh. “What do you think? Woman trouble.”

Romance wasn’t exactly Noelle’s strong suit.

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Noelle remained quiet for a beat before Kingsley continued, “He’s been like this all day. Maybe you can talk some sense into him.”

Noelle shrugged. “Honestly? I’m probably worse at this than you are.”

The two men exchanged helpless looks–neither had any clue how to handle Vincent’s breakdown.

The music thundered through the space, colored lights strobed across the dance floor below, and bodies

moved in wild abandon.

The club buzzed with energy and life, but Vincent felt nothing except the hollow ache eating away at his

chest.

Every time Blanche’s words from that morning replayed in his mind, agony sliced through him.

He’d thought they had an understanding–he would be

her lover.

But after just one night, she’d already broken that promise.

The bitter expression on Vincent’s face revealed his

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thoughts–the way his jaw clenched and eyes hardened suggested he was lumping all women together, dismissing them as heartless and cruel.

The more Vincent dwelled on it, the angrier he became. He gripped his wine glass and slammed it down hard. “Blanche, you lying bitch! You’re the biggest fraud alive!”

The glass shattered with a sharp crack; fragments digging deep into Vincent’s palm.

He didn’t even feel the pain—his tear–filled eyes showed only raw anguish and despair.

Kingsley’s heart clenched with sympathy. “Vincent, why torture yourself like this? If you love her that much, then fight for her–go win her back!”

Just as Kingsley finished speaking, Noelle cut in. “Kidnapping is illegal. Let’s not do anything stupid.”

Kingsley shot Noelle a withering glare. “Don’t go all lawyer on me right now. Vincent’s wellbeing is what

matters.”

Noelle pressed his lips together and fell silent.

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Vincent hadn’t heard a word of their argument. He looked down at his bleeding palm, then staggered to

his feet.

“Vincent, where are you going?” Kingsley asked, worry clear in his voice as he also stood.

Vincent moved toward the exit, his voice low and resolute. “I’m going to find her. Don’t follow me.”

It was late into the night when I got up to use the

bathroom.

When I came back out, the faint streetlight streaming through the window revealed someone sitting in the chair beside my hospital bed.

Remembering what Zain had said before he left, I assumed it was him.

I shot him a cold look and said, “Zain, I told you I don’t

need-”

But before I could finish, the person in the chair suddenly stood up.

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was Vincent.

I froze for a moment, but in the next instant, Vincent grabbed me and pushed me down onto the bed.

As I hit the mattress, Vincent leaned over me, planting a knee on either side of my body. He trapped me effortlessly, leaving me no escape route.

Within seconds, the sharp stench of alcohol flooded my senses, burning my chest and making it ache.

Vincent’s hand was wrapped in a bandage, but blood had seeped through, bright red and alarming.

His eyes blazed red in the darkness as he stared down at me, letting out a low, bitter laugh.

“Look at me. Really look. Who am I to you?”

I tried to squirm away, but with Vincent pinning me down, there was nowhere to go.

Vincent hovered so close, yet he kept all his weight on his knees–he didn’t press down on me at all.

Even though fear shot through me, I managed to say

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his name, “Vincent… you’re Vincent.”

Vincent finally released some of his tension, gently pressing his forehead against mine.

His face was so near, our breath mingled together, just inches apart–intimate and charged.

He didn’t speak. He just gazed into my eyes, his stare intense, almost as if he wanted to uncover every

secret I held.

Feeling unsettled under his burning gaze, my voice shook. “Why did you come all this way?”

Before I could finish, Vincent buried his face in the curve of my neck, his voice barely a whisper. “Because I’m pathetic. I couldn’t stop myself–I had to see you.”

His voice cracked with unshed tears, and his entire

body shook uncontrollably.

Hearing him like this, my heart twisted with bittersweet pain.

I stayed quiet, not responding to him.

After what felt like forever, Vincent finally lifted his face from my neck and looked at me again.

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His eyes were so bloodshot they looked ready to

bleed.

Without warning, he grabbed my hand and pressed it against his own face, hitting himself hard, as if trying to punish himself through me.

Vincent tried to make me hit him again, but I fought back fiercely, shock and anger in my voice. “Vincent, what the hell are you doing?”

When he couldn’t force my hand to move anymore, Vincent glared into my dark eyes, his voice hoarse with accusation. “Blanche, you started this. You messed with me first. You broke your promise. You lied–you’re nothing but a liar.”

I stared at him in complete confusion, my voice unsteady as I met his bloodshot gaze. “I honestly don’t understand what you mean.”

Vincent just kept staring at me–lost in my eyes for what seemed like an eternity.

Finally, he gave a bitter laugh. “If you don’t get it, that’s fine. It’s probably better for you that way.”

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I couldn’t recall any promises we’d made. But since I loved Zain so deeply, maybe it was better that I’d forgotten.

Trying to remember those things would only cause me more pain.

In truth, Vincent would rather I stayed exactly like this than torture myself trying to remember.

With that, Vincent pushed himself off me, sitting up straight.

Standing beside the bed, half–concealed by shadows, he lifted his hand and silently wiped the tears from his

face.

I couldn’t make out his expression, and there was no way to guess what was running through his mind.

But one thing was obvious–I could feel that Vincent was truly suffering.

Before I could say anything, Vincent turned around and headed for the door.

I watched his retreating form, calling out instinctively, “Vincent, wait-”

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But before I could finish, Vincent cut me off, his voice ice–cold. “Blanche, for the rest of your life, you’d better never remember the promises you made.”

And with that, he rushed out of my hospital room.

If he’d stayed even one second longer, he was afraid he’d completely fall apart.

I watched him vanish through the doorway, the words I’d been about to say dying in my throat.

After Vincent left, I couldn’t sleep. I just sat there on the bed, staring into nothing for what felt like hours.

I had no idea what Vincent meant when he said I was

the one who’d started things between us–but deep down, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something must have happened between us once.

But for some reason, there wasn’t any trace of Vincent in my memory.

And what was this promise he kept mentioning?