Blanche’s POV
The next morning, I showed up at the courthouse. Zain was already there, his car sitting by the curb, though he hadn’t stepped out yet.
He wasn’t exactly known for being on time, but today he’d actually kept his promise. Obviously, he’d been waiting for this moment just as much as I had.
I could see him through the windshield, phone pressed to his ear, his expression growing darker with each passing moment. Whatever conversation he was having clearly wasn’t going well—his jaw was tight, his free hand gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles.
From his body language, I could tell this was business-related, probably something about a lost deal. I’d seen that particular brand of controlled fury before during our marriage.
