Chapter 255 A Woman Should Be More Reserved
Michael flicked on the light and pulled her close.
Seeing her pale face and the sweat on her brow, he gently rubbed her back with his big hand. "Did you have a nightmare?"
Sinclair, still catching her breath and visibly shaken, nestled into Michael's arms.
"I dreamed I was pregnant, but someone was trying to kill me with a knife."
She didn't need to say more.
Michael already had already guessed the gist of it. He kept stroking her back, his voice soft and soothing. "It was just a nightmare, don't worry."
They had lost their first child in a car accident.
Even though she had amnesia, the memory of that child, whether from the nightmare or some deep instinct, brought her nothing but pain.
She buried her face in his chest, her voice choked with guilt. "If I hadn't gone out for that late-night snack, the accident wouldn't have happened, and the baby... it's all my fault."
"This wasn't your fault. We'll have more kids in the future. Once you're better, you'll get pregnant again. Let's just enjoy our time together for now, no rush."
But no matter how many kids they had, it wouldn't replace that first one.
Sinclair, her eyes red, slowly lifted her head from his chest. "Will we really have kids in the future?"
The doctor had said that Sinclair's miscarriage in the accident had damaged her uterus and left her body severely weakened. It was a miracle she survived at all.
Michael had kept this from her, afraid it would break her heart.
He kissed her cool forehead, his eyes filled with guilt and sorrow. "We will."
If she couldn't conceive, they could always adopt.
He comforted her until she fell asleep in his arms again.
But he couldn't sleep at all, his mind weighed down by Patricia.
He grabbed his phone and walked out of the bedroom, dialing a number.
Patricia picked up quickly. "Hello, Michael?"
"What are you up to?" Michael asked.
She sighed. "I was about to sleep. What else could I be doing? Now that you've cut off my card and stopped my allowance, where could I go?"
"Do you know Deborah?"
Hearing that name, Patricia froze.
How did her brother know about Deborah?
Her face went pale, her breath catching. "Who's Deborah?"
She played dumb.
Michael gritted his teeth, his voice cold. "If you don't know Deborah, why did you send her money? Was the truck driver who hit Sinclair your doing?"
Even over the phone, Michael's anger was palpable.
She trembled, her voice shaky. "It wasn't me... Michael, where did you hear this? I may have disliked Sinclair, but I would never have someone hit her with a car. And she was pregnant. No matter what, the baby was yours. How could I..."
"Stop lying!" Michael shouted.
She didn't know how to defend herself, so she just cried. "It really wasn't me. Why are you accusing me? Do you have any proof?"
Could Sinclair have regained her memory?
No, even if she did, she wouldn't know the driver was hired by Patricia.
Michael, disheartened, laughed bitterly. "Patricia, how did you become so cruel? I'm so disappointed in you! Turn yourself in, don't make me force you."
Michael's last words were cold and firm, leaving no room for negotiation.
Patricia's heart skipped a beat, terrified. "Michael, you can't do this to me, I'm your sister! Sinclair didn't die, she just had a miscarriage. Once you get married, you can have another child! Michael, just pretend you don't know about this, okay? If I go to jail, my life will be ruined! And it will also bring shame to you! I'm begging you... don't send me to jail..."
"I'll give you a week to turn yourself in."
With that, Michael hung up.
Patricia, holding the phone, was shaking with anger and fear. She threw the phone in a fit of rage!
Just for Sinclair, Michael was willing to send her to jail!
She clutched the blanket, both angry and scared.
She couldn't turn herself in!
If she admitted it, her life would be over!
The driver had already taken all the blame. As long as he didn't change his testimony, and she insisted it wasn't her, there wouldn't be enough evidence. Could Michael really force her into jail?
After dinner at Royal View, Odis and Magnus were holed up in the study, talking business until late.
Juniper was in the children's room, giving Jenny a bath and playing games with her.
When she checked her phone, she saw an electronic wedding invitation from Sinclair.
She clicked on it, and the wedding photos were stunning.
Michael and Sinclair looked perfect together.
Jenny leaned against Juniper, looking at the photos. "Mom, Michael and Sinclair's wedding photos are so beautiful! When will you and Dad take yours? Can I be in them too?"
Juniper was caught off guard by the question, having never considered it before.
Seven years ago, when she first got together with Magnus, she was too young to think about such things, and later, she didn't dare to.
To outsiders, it seemed like they should have been married long ago, given that they had a child. By now, they might have even divorced once.
But in reality, they had never been married.
Juniper had never worn a wedding dress.
Jenny turned to Juniper and said, "Mom, if you and Dad take wedding photos, they'll be even more beautiful than these!"
At this critical moment, with the Shadow Syndicate targeting them, Magnus had no time to talk about marriage.
Marriage, weddings, wedding dresses—in the past seven years, she hadn't dared to think about them, knowing they would never happen.
But now, looking at someone else's wedding photos and hearing Jenny's question, something inside her was stirred, and she couldn't quite describe the feeling.
She smiled, tucked Jenny in, and said, "You only take wedding photos when you get married."
Children were always innocent and spoke their minds, "Then Mom, just marry Dad, and you can take beautiful wedding photos! Mom, don't you want to marry Dad?"
It was no use dwelling on this alone. It took two to tango.
Juniper ruffled her little head and said softly, "Care will kill a cat, and it ages a child fast. Don't worry about such things. It's late, you have school tomorrow. If you don't sleep now, you'll be late in the morning."
Jenny held her hand. "Mom, sleep with me."
"What about your dad?"
The little one sighed, pouting. "If he doesn't propose to you, don't worry about him. Mom, my friend said that women should be reserved, or they'll have bad luck!"
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