The Plane Tickets He Hoarded The Wife He Hid novel Chapter 9

9 Chapter 9 It Was Never About Dinner

Blanche’s POV 1

Just as I was leading Camila out of the ward, I collided with Ophelia. Still seething about Carry’s allergy and my failure to cook dinner,

she didn’t even glance up before snapping, “Watch where you’re going!”

Ophelia only realized it was me after her harsh words escaped. This discovery seemed to fuel her rage even more, but before she could

unleash another verbal assault, I stepped around her and walked away with Camila. Amber followed behind us, offering Ophelia nothing

more than a polite nod as we passed.

I heard Ophelia’s footsteps halt momentarily before she recovered. She whirled around and shouted after me, but we were already

halfway down the corridor. “Blanche!” she yelled, taking several quick steps forward. “You’re abandoning your daughter again? What kind

of mother are you?”

Her words reached my ears, but I didn’t break stride. If I was such a terrible mother, then good mothers simply didn’t exist. Fragments of

raising Carry crashed through my thoughts–all those endless nights, all that devotion I’d poured out–yet the Jacobs still treated me like

I’d contributed nothing.

Zain’s POV

After hurling a few more pointless insults, Ophelia finally surrendered and returned to the ward. She discovered me cradling Carry and

immediately vented, “Didn’t you say you had work? Why didn’t you force Blanche to stay here with Carry?”

I carefully placed Carry back on the bed before responding, “Carry’s my priority. Work can be postponed until tomorrow.”

Ophelia unpacked the grilled cheese sandwich she’d brought, extracting it from the takeout bag while grumbling, “You never discipline

Blanche properly. Can’t even manage her own child, can’t be bothered preparing meals. She’s becoming too arrogant.”

I accepted the grilled cheese sandwich, tearing off a small piece to test its temperature. “Don’t worry about it. She’ll calm down in a few

days.” I suspected Blanche was upset, likely because I’d brought Joanna to Blissfield Villa. Though I couldn’t be completely sure.

I broke off another morsel of the grilled cheese sandwich, feeding Carry before abruptly freezing. Then I shoved the remaining sandwich

toward Ophelia. “Mom, watch Carry for me. I need to track down Blanche.”

I’d just remembered these coming days coincided with Blanche’s most fertile window. My strategy was straightforward–get her

pregnant now and eliminate the need for these monthly encounters.

Ophelia accepted the sandwich and nodded without hesitation, assuming I simply planned to scold Blanche.

Blanche’s POV

Outside the hospital, I stood gripping Camila’s small hand. Amber could tell how deeply Ophelia’s cruel words had wounded me. She was

about to offer comfort when Camila beat her to it.

ALIEN

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9 Chapter 9 It Was Never About Dinner

“I’m sorry, Aunt Blanche,” Camila whispered, gazing up with remorseful eyes. “I shouldn’t have said mean things about Carry.” Her sincerity was genuine. After all, Carry was my daughter, and her comments must have caused me pain.

I looked down at my niece with conflicted emotions. Camila’s compassion moved me, but Carry’s behavior broke my heart. I crouched to Camila’s eye level and gently stroked her hair. “You did nothing wrong, sweetheart. Don’t apologize. If anyone owes an apology, it’s me

for spoiling Carry.”

Camila wrapped her arms around my neck, pressing her cheek against mine. “Don’t be sad, Aunt Blanche. I’ll never leave you”

Tears threatened to spill from my eyes. “Okay. I won’t be sad anymore.” We embraced tightly until our taxi pulled up.

When I straightened, Amber smiled at me with an expression that clearly revealed she’d noticed how much I’d transformed. I gave a

small, rueful laugh. “It only took me forever to wake up.” Amber squeezed my shoulder reassuringly.

As I was climbing into the taxi, a familiar voice calling my name cut through the surrounding chaos. That icy, emotionless tone belonged

to Zain alone.

I turned to confront him. The love that used to illuminate my face when I saw him had vanished. Now my eyes held only the distant

coldness I reserved for strangers.

Zain approached, his voice expressionless. “Let’s have dinner together.”

I went rigid. Years of marriage, and he’d never once made this suggestion. I wasn’t naive enough to believe he actually cared. Those

divorce papers must have finally caught his attention. This wasn’t romance–it was strategy.

With that realization, I accepted. After instructing Amber and Camila to continue without me, I slid into Zain’s car wordlessly. The

silence between us became suffocating and tense. I gazed out the window at the blurring streetscape, too absorbed in my thoughts to

notice we were driving toward Alexander Villa.

When the recognizable gates of Alexander Villa appeared, I emerged from my reverie. But I didn’t question him about dinner. We both

understood that had never been his true motivation.

Zain exited the car and strode directly inside without speaking. I followed in silence.

When we reached the upstairs bedroom, he began removing his jacket.

I quickly averted my gaze, startled. Noticing my reaction, Zain paused and released a cold laugh. “What? Did you actually think we were

having dinner here?”

I grasped his meaning immediately. This was about another pregnancy attempt. That bed had served no other purpose throughout our

marriage except baby–making. I had zero intention of cooperating. “I assumed we came to sign documents,” I stated coolly.

Seeing Zain’s bewildered expression, I knew instantly he hadn’t even examined the divorce papers. A bitter smile touched my lips.

“They’re in the study. See for yourself.”

Zain had been unfastening his shirt buttons. At my words, he slowlyrefastened them. For once, he displayed unusual patience with me.

As Zain headed toward the study, my phone vibrated. I glanced down to see “Amara Jerry” lighting up the screen–my closest friend. Answering immediately, I heard blaring bar sounds and Amara’s alcohol–thickened voice, “Blanche, I’m wasted. Can you pick me up?”

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9 Chapter 9 It Was Never About Dinner

Worried about Amara, I agreed instantly. “Send me the location. I’m coming right now. The moment the address notification arrived, I

rushed downstairs, barely managing to inform Zain.

Cherry emerged from the staff quarters just as I was hurrying down the stairs. “Cherry” I called over my shoulder without stopping, “tell

Zain to contact me if he has issues with the papers.”

Looking puzzled, Cherry started to ask more questions, but I was already outside, disappearing into the night.

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