The Plane Tickets He Hoarded The Wife He Hid novel Chapter 286

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Me Go

Blanche’s POV

After we left the hospital, I slid into the passenger seat

of Zain’s car.

Restlessness crawled under my skin–I couldn’t get

comfortable no matter how I shifted.

This wasn’t just my seat anymore. Joanna had claimed this exact spot before.

The thought twisted my gut into knots.

And the man beside me… he’d shared everything with

Joanna too.

I sat there stone–faced, irritation building with each passing second. When Zain didn’t start the engine, I couldn’t shake the thought:

He’s probably expecting Joanna to call–some excuse about Carry crying so we’d have to rush back and get her.

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But ten minutes ticked by, and his phone stayed dead

silent.

Zain finally cracked. He fired up the engine and gunned it, tearing away from the curb.

My nerves spiked, and I whipped around to face him, worry creeping into my voice. “You’re really not waiting for Carry?”

We hit a red light. Zain slammed the brakes and turned to look at me–the storm in his eyes softened when our gazes met.

A slow smile spread across his face, his tone almost casual. “She wants to stay. Her call.”

Doubt gnawed at me, worry bleeding through my words. “But she’s still burning up with fever…”

I let the sentence die, hanging between us.

Zain’s grin only widened, his eyes dancing with mischief as he studied me. “See? And here you keep swearing you don’t give a damn about us.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, refusing to take the bait. No way was I letting him see how deep this cut.

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Carry was my blood–of course I cared.

Plus, with Joanna’s busted leg and Carry still feverish, leaving a sick kid with someone else would eat at

anyone.

When the light flipped green, Zain noticed my silence and dropped it.

We drove toward Blissfield Villa, and thirty minutes later, the car rolled to a stop at the front gates.

Zain climbed out, moving to open my door, but I beat him to it–stepping out before he could play gentleman.

All those sweet little gestures I used to crave–they meant nothing to me now.

Zain stood there, his simple act of kindness rejected, and let out a hollow laugh.

Without sparing Zain a look or word, I marched toward Blissfield Villa with purpose.

Zain hurried to catch up, matching my stride.

As we reached the main hall entrance, Heidi looked up

from her cleaning, hearing our approach.

23:21

3/10

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The sunlight behind me cast my figure in shadow, and she squinted to make me out.

Heidi froze for a beat, then recognition dawned, surprise coloring her voice. “Mrs. Jacob?”

I nodded and managed a small smile.

Zain suddenly spoke up. “Heidi, where’s Grandpa?”

Still clutching her duster, Heidi replied, “He said he couldn’t settle in here, so someone drove him back to Jacob Manor just now.”

Zain gave a casual “Mm, okay.”

Heidi turned to me with a bright smile. “Mrs. Jacob,

have you eaten yet?”

I laughed softly. “Heidi, it’s not even eleven–I haven’t

touched lunch.”

Zain hung back, watching me smile at Heidi, and something sharp twisted in his chest–almost like jealousy.

Heidi rushed over and linked her arm through mine. “Perfect! Mrs. Jacob, what sounds good? I’ll start cooking right away.”

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I hesitated. “Really, Heidi, whatever you make is fine. Don’t fuss.”

Heidi frowned. “Nonsense! It’s been forever since you’ve been back–just tell me what you’re hungry for. Think of it as a celebration; I’ll make it special.”

With Heidi practically glowing with enthusiasm, I couldn’t refuse anymore. “Thanks, Heidi.”

Heidi brushed it off. “Don’t be so formal with me. I’m the help and you’re the lady of the house–taking care of you is what I do.”

The phrase ‘lady of the house‘ hit me like a punch.

I wasn’t the lady of Blissfield Villa anymore–hadn’t been for ages.

The words left me shaken. Heidi caught her mistake, embarrassment flashing across her face before she escaped to the kitchen.

Once Heidi vanished behind the kitchen door, I finally collapsed onto the couch, my mind spinning with memories.

I stared at the coffee table–once cluttered with

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diapers, formula, and baby bottles. Now it held fresh flowers, tea service, and glossy fashion magazines.

Easy to picture Joanna brewing tea here, lounging with those magazines spread before her.

Zain watched me zone out at the coffee table, then walked over with a half–smile. “Something wrong? Don’t like the new setup?”

I snapped back to reality, a spark returning to my eyes. I looked up at Zain. “No, it’s fine.”

It wasn’t about ugly or pretty.

I was the one who’d chosen this coffee table originally.

But now everything on it–none of it was mine

anymore.

Zain didn’t push it, just offered, “I’ll head upstairs and prep your bed.”

I jumped in quickly. “The guest room works for me.”

Zain stopped, staring at me. “We’re married–why sleep separately?”

I didn’t flinch, my voice steady as I challenged him.

<

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“Are we really married?”

Zain fired back. “Aren’t we?”

I wouldn’t take the bait, but I stood firm. “Zain, I’m sleeping in the guest room. Period.”

Zain studied me, his expression screaming that he wanted to argue.

But before he could speak, Heidi emerged from the

kitchen.

She wore an apron and glanced my way. “Mrs. Jacob, seafood or maybe a hearty stew?”

I looked at Heidi and smiled gently. “Either sounds wonderful, Heidi.”

Heidi considered this, then beamed. “Then I’ll make your favorite chicken soup.”

Emotion surged through me–my nose tingled, tears threatening, but I fought them back.

I said quietly, “Thank you, Heidi.”

Heidi didn’t answer–just glowed at me before bouncing back into the kitchen.

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She was over the moon that I’d finally come home.

After Heidi left, Zain glanced at me and said gently, “Why don’t you go upstairs and rest?”

He didn’t specify which room he meant.

No matter what, I’m not stepping foot in Zain’s

bedroom.

I just murmured “mm” and started upstairs without looking back.

Zain’s gaze stayed locked on me, and as I hit the staircase, something sparked in his eyes. In a few quick strides, he caught up and swept me into his

arms.

I barely registered what happened–suddenly I was airborne. Startled and terrified of falling, instinct kicked in and I grabbed Zain’s neck.

In that instant, we were pressed together, faces mere inches apart.

Zain dipped his head, his jaw brushing softly against my lips.

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I felt his jaw graze my mouth and jerked my head away instantly.

Zain flashed a wicked grin, his voice dripping with dangerous tease. “What, scared of me now?”

I refused to meet his eyes. “I’m not scared of you.”

Zain chuckled, amused. “If that’s true, then why won’t you look at me?”

I hesitated before finally lifting my gaze to his. Meeting his stare, my voice came out low and tight. “Zain, we don’t need to do this. Put me down–I can walk myself.”

Zain didn’t release me. Instead, he lowered his head, moving closer–his lips so near mine the air practically crackled with tension, like he was testing whether I’d let him cross that line.

But just as he moved in for the actual kiss, I instinctively turned away, dodging him at the last possible second.

His lips brushed my cheek instead.

Zain went still, his frown deepening, shadows

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flickering across his face.

For a moment, even he seemed stunned and lost.

Once, he’d barely noticed me–I wasn’t worth his time. But now, faced with losing me for good and watching me find happiness elsewhere, Zain found himself

suddenly, desperately unwilling to let me go.

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