Blanche's POV
I tucked the pregnancy test results away before stepping into the living room. Zain and Ophelia's conversation cut off the moment I appeared. For once, I skipped the polite pleasantries I usually forced myself through.
I'd spent years believing that playing the perfect wife and daughter-in-law would finally make my husband see me. Life had shown me how wrong I was.
Even if I tore my heart from my chest and laid it at the Jacobs' feet, they wouldn't glance down.
Five years of giving everything to this marriage had left me empty-handed. That ended today.
Zain knew exactly why he'd come home.
He shot Cherry a sharp look. "Cherry, escort Blanche out." I stood quietly in the corner, but my eyes had gone arctic.
Zain ran Jacob Group like clockwork - efficient, precise, flawless. He honored his elders, stood by his friends, led his team fairly, and genuinely cared for his employees.
Everyone who knew Zain praised him endlessly. Our mutual friends constantly joked that I must've saved nations in past lives to land such a man.
But his kindness stopped at his wife. After five years of marriage, I finally grasped the brutal truth. This hollow, frigid marriage wasn't what I wanted anymore.
Ophelia brushed past me, then paused. Her voice dripped with arctic disdain. "Without a male heir, you'll never truly be a Jacob."
Before, I would've absorbed those words in silence. Not anymore. I locked eyes with her, every trace of submission gone. "Ophelia, we're both women. Since when is a baby's gender solely my responsibility?"
Ophelia had always seen me as some timid mouse she could terrorize at will. My sudden backbone caught her off guard, but she wasn't about to let it slide. Her palm cracked across my cheek like lightning. "You dare challenge me? Get on your knees. Now."
Something savage flickered in her expression, backed by absolute certainty that I'd crumble under her dominance. She knew I loved Zain enough to sacrifice dignity, abandon pride, and even grovel like a servant for the Jacobs.
But I was done swallowing pain.
Since the Jacobs had never valued my sacrifices or even my existence, I wouldn't bow to them anymore.
My eyes turned to steel as they met Ophelia's. Wordlessly, I stepped closer, raising my hand to strike back.
Before I could connect, a large hand seized my wrist. A deep, reproachful voice rumbled in my ear. "Blanche, do you really need to escalate this?"
I lifted my head to meet Zain's razor-sharp features. His glacial stare cut into me like shards of ice. This was the face that had once consumed me with obsession, but now, studying it up close, quiet disgust twisted in my stomach.
How could anyone be this cold? Being ignored, betrayed, and treated like garbage - I could endure that. But viewing me as some breeding machine? Demanding another child like my life was worthless? That would destroy me. The thought alone made me nauseous.
Just as I opened my mouth to respond, Zain yanked my hand away roughly. His voice was ice. "I'm not in the mood today. Try again next month." With that, he took Ophelia's arm and headed for the door.
Ophelia threw me a triumphant smirk that screamed, 'Of course he'd choose me. You were never family.'
Before, I would've shattered when Zain sided with his mother. Now, I felt nothing. No tears. No pain. Just hollow silence.
As Zain reached the hallway, I called out, "Zain." I always kept my promises.
Now that I'd decided on divorce, nothing would change my mind - just like when I'd stubbornly married him despite my family's fierce opposition.
Eight years of loving Zain had bled me dry. He never valued me, never tried to make our marriage work. The only reason he married me was because I got pregnant, and he felt obligated to do the right thing. Our marriage was a tomb, but I was the only one buried alive. I should've awakened years ago.
Zain paused at the doorway. I thought he was actually listening. Taking a steady breath, I finally said what I'd bottled up for years. "I'm done. Let's end this." The words lifted a crushing weight I'd carried far too long.
But Zain suddenly pressed his phone to his ear.
I caught only his rushed response: "Got it. On my way." Without even a backward glance, he guided Ophelia out of Alexander Villa, leaving my declaration floating in empty air.
As his silhouette disappeared, I finally released a bitter laugh. My words, my moment of bravery - they meant absolutely nothing to him.
Cherry returned from seeing them off and froze when she found me still standing in the living room's center, as if some ancient curse had turned me to stone. "Mrs. Jacob?" she called hesitantly, taking a careful step forward.
Snapping back to the present, I walked numbly to the sofa and collapsed. "Cherry," I said, my voice hollow, "prepare dinner."
For years I'd done everything myself, surviving on scraps of Zain's attention. His rare visits had been enough to fuel my pathetic hope, but now I knew better.
A bitter smile crossed my lips as I remembered being my family's cherished youngest daughter, so fiercely protected that I'd never needed to do anything for myself.
After dinner, I went straight to the study and drafted divorce papers. The Callum had money, and as a pediatrician, I could easily support Carry. But five years of silent suffering had earned me nothing but a cold, distant husband.
So I made it crystal clear that Zain would surrender half our marital assets, plus $700,000 monthly in child support.
I paused when I reached the section about Carry. I didn't know which parent my daughter would choose. Realizing I needed to ask Carry first, I gathered the unfinished divorce papers and left Alexander Villa immediately.
After Carry's birth, Zain had bought Blissfield Villa for his daughter. I'd been Carry's full-time caregiver for four years before returning to hospital work. But as my professional duties expanded, I found fewer chances to be with my daughter.
Over the past six months, I'd been doing specialized training at a major regional hospital in the neighboring city. The only times I'd seen Zain recently were when my foolish heart hoped another baby might anchor my drifting husband.
I stayed constantly busy, yet still traded shifts with colleagues, working three consecutive overnight shifts just to see Zain. It never occurred to me that I couldn't have another baby alone. If I was too swamped, Zain could've come to me. But he always chose the other woman instead.
Just after nine that evening, I took a taxi to Blissfield Villa. As I stepped out of the car, my phone showed a new video notification from Vinshub, one of my regular subscriptions.