Chapter 272 Michael, Let's Get a Divorce
After the makeup artist left, it was just Sinclair and Michael in the dressing room.
Sinclair gripped the makeup table and slowly got to her feet.
Her legs felt like jelly, and she almost collapsed back into the chair if Michael hadn't caught her.
She clung to his hand, her eyes red and questioning, "Was it Patricia?"
A long, heavy silence ensued.
Michael took a deep breath and said, "Yeah, it was her. Just tell me what you want to do about it, and I'll handle it."
Her eyes widened, and she felt like she couldn't breathe. "So, you knew it was Patricia all along?"
Another dead silence followed.
Sinclair started laughing through her tears. "Do you think I'm an idiot? I was scared every day, thinking someone wanted to kill me. You both played me! You knew it was her all along. Why didn't you tell me? Were you planning to hide it forever to protect your sister?"
Michael grabbed her shoulders, trying to explain, "I wanted her to turn herself in, but she threatened to jump off a building. I hesitated, and then..."
Sinclair cut him off, "Where is Patricia? Deborah said she ran away. She didn't show up at the wedding today. Did she run off a long time ago?"
"She might have already gone to Elysium," Michael replied.
"You knew she would run, and you still let her go. Michael, our child died in that car accident. I always thought it was my fault. Do you know how guilty I felt? I kept having nightmares, dreaming of Patricia stabbing me in the stomach. I thought it was just my imagination and didn't dare tell you. Now I know why I had those dreams."
He hugged her. "Sinclair, I'm sorry."
But it was too little, too late.
Sinclair slowly pushed him away, collapsing into the chair, covering her face and crying. "She killed our child and almost killed me. Michael, why did you do this to me? What did I ever do to deserve this?"
Just because Patricia was his sister, he could let her go even if she killed their child? Was that it?
Sinclair felt a chill run down her spine.
She looked at Michael with a pale face, realizing she didn't really know him at all.
A strong sense of hatred rose from her chest, spreading and growing. She clenched her wedding dress with trembling hands.
Michael said hoarsely, "Sinclair, after the wedding, if you want to hold Patricia accountable, I'll bring her back and let you..."
Patricia was the murderer; she would never let her go!
Sinclair said coldly, "Bring Patricia back now."
"Now?"
Michael was momentarily stunned.
But Sinclair was unusually firm, leaving no room for negotiation.
"Sinclair, calm down first. I promise you, I'll give you a satisfactory result regarding Patricia. But right now, what about our wedding?" Michael said.
Sinclair's red lips curled into a mocking smile. "Do you think this wedding is still necessary?"
He and Patricia had become accomplices.
How could she trust him? How could she convince herself to marry him?
Hot tears streamed down her face.
She sniffed, took off the diamond ring from her finger, and placed it in his palm. "Michael, why did you do this to me? The wedding means nothing to me now."
She didn't even bother changing out of her wedding dress. She lifted the hem and stumbled out.
Michael just stood there, eyes bloodshot and dazed, as the diamond ring slipped from his palm with a soft clink, marking the irrevocable end.
Ophelia, munching on something in the yard, glanced up and saw a white figure darting towards the back of the estate.
"Isn't that the bride? Why is she running?" Ophelia wondered aloud.
Juniper looked up, slightly stunned. "Did something happen?"
Ophelia's curiosity piqued. "What did Michael do to make Sinclair run away in tears on their wedding day?"
The guests started murmuring, confused.
The groom's assistant stepped up. "Sorry everyone, there's been a small issue with the wedding today, and it can't proceed as planned. But the banquet will continue as usual. Please enjoy yourselves."
A white Mercedes tore out of Riverside Estate like a bat out of hell.
Inside the car, Sinclair gripped the steering wheel, flooring the gas pedal.
Tears blurred her vision as she let out a desperate scream, haunted by the memory of her last car accident and the fear that had kept her from driving ever since.
But now, the white Mercedes sped out like a wild horse.
A black Bentley followed, honking like crazy.
It was Michael's car.
Sinclair's phone kept ringing, but she ignored it.
Riverside Estate was halfway up the mountain, with occasional large trucks hauling goods up and down.
At the next bend, the white Mercedes faced an oncoming truck!
The urgent, piercing sound of the horn shattered the mountain road's silence, followed by the screech of brakes.
The tires gripped the ground tightly, leaving black skid marks.
Sinclair stared at the approaching truck, her tear-filled eyes wide with fear.
The car accident from that night replayed in her mind.
Chaotic memories flooded in—the truck, the piercing horn, the crash—all combining and exploding in her mind.
With a sharp turn, the white Mercedes crashed into the guardrail as an oncoming truck brushed past.
Sinclair gripped the steering wheel, breathing heavily, almost suffocating.
She didn't know how long she stayed in the car.
Until Michael knocked on her window. "Sinclair! Are you okay?"
Hearing his urgent calls, Sinclair slowly lifted her head from the steering wheel.
She turned her nearly vacant gaze to the window, her blood freezing.
Today was meant to be her dream wedding with Michael, but now that dream lay in ruins.
She looked at Michael outside the window and finally broke down in tears.
Back then, when she returned to Oakvale County, maybe she shouldn't have come back with him. If she hadn't returned to the Imperial Capital, maybe none of this would have happened.
She unlocked the car.
Michael opened the door and asked, "Are you hurt?"
Sinclair looked at him, her tears falling on his hand, and said word by word, "Michael, let's get a divorce."
This marriage should never have started.
Patricia's attempted murder left Michael drowning in guilt, driving him to compensate her with their wedding.
It was absolutely ridiculous.
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