Blanche's POV
Back at the Callum Mansion, I made a beeline for the bathroom, desperate to wash away the day's tension.
Once I was clean and dressed, I grabbed my phone, hoping to find something—anything—from Zain. Nothing. No texts, no missed calls, not even a voicemail.
Had he even bothered to read what I'd written? Did he give a damn about the divorce papers sitting on his desk? I couldn't tell, but one thing was crystal clear—I wasn't backing down.
If today's conversation hadn't gotten through to him, I'd corner him tomorrow. Still too busy? I'd try again the next day. Hell, I'd ask him about our divorce every single day until he finally signed those papers.
The next morning, I dialed his number over and over. Each call went straight to voicemail. Since I had to get to the hospital, I gave up for the moment.
At lunch, I tried again. His phone was completely dead.
