Chapter 303 Fated but Not Meant to Be
When Michael stumbled out of the Blue Bridge Bar, snowflakes were already falling outside.
December in the Imperial Capital had long entered the depths of winter. The cold wind was biting.
He stood in the wind and snow, and soon his shoulders were covered with snowflakes.
His phone rang. Without checking the caller ID, he answered it directly.
A sharp voice came through the phone, "Michael! When are you going to divorce my daughter? Your sister caused Sinclair to lose her child, and you still defend her. You better agree to the divorce quickly! Otherwise, I'll go to the Imperial Capital and expose the evil deeds of you and your sister to everyone!"
It was Mila, standing up for Sinclair.
Michael had drunk quite a bit and reeked of alcohol; his voice carried a hint of drunkenness as he chuckled and said, "What if I don't divorce? I used to consider others too much. From now on, I only want to hold on to what I want. I won't let go!"
Before Mila could say anything else, he had already hung up the phone.
Patricia was already dead. Now, his only family was Sinclair. Sinclair was his wife, and he wouldn't let go.
Michael walked briskly through the snow towards the nearby Everglow Enterprises, where Sinclair had rented a place.
Before he reached the apartment, a familiar figure came into view.
Michael stopped in his tracks, and Sinclair saw him too. They stood in the snow, looking at each other from a distance.
In just a few days, he had lost a lot of weight and looked much more haggard.
Patricia's tragic death must have been a huge blow to him.
Having run into each other, it was impossible to pretend not to see. So Sinclair took the initiative to say, "Are you here to see me?"
This place was quite far from both Maple Villa and his company.
Michael walked up to her, took the grocery bags from her hands, and said, "These are quite heavy. Let me help you carry them up."
Sinclair took a deep breath and said calmly, "If you're here to discuss the divorce, I can invite you in. If not, just drop me off at the entrance."
Michael looked down at her, his eyes slightly red from the alcohol. "Sinclair, I can talk to you about anything except divorce."
Sinclair chuckled, her eyes instantly moist, "But I only have the divorce to talk to you about."
When she exposed Patricia's actions to Magnus, she never thought there was any possibility between them anymore.
Michael sniffed and forced a smile. "I was handling Patricia's funeral and didn't check my phone these days. I just saw today that you transferred a hundred thousand dollars to me. What does that mean?"
This hundred thousand dollars had a long story behind it.
It was too cold outside in the ice and snow.
Sinclair sighed slightly and said, "Come with me, let's discuss the divorce."
Michael didn't say anything, carrying the grocery bags and walking behind her.
Michael was still worried about her and asked, "You just moved out; are you used to living here alone? If not, and you don't want to go back to Maple Villa, I can find you a more comfortable and safer place to live. There are too many residents on each floor here, and the privacy and security aren't great."
Sinclair smiled indifferently, "I'm not that delicate. This place suits me just fine."
Inside the apartment.
Sinclair had just taken off her down jacket when Michael hugged her from behind, saying, "Sinclair, I've missed you so much these days. I suddenly realized that I have nothing, and only when you're at Maple Villa does it feel like home."
He buried his face in the nape of her neck, his breath hot against her skin. His hoarse voice carried an unmistakable tremor. Warm liquid slid into her collar. He was crying.
Sinclair suppressed the ache in her throat and forced a smile. "As long as you're willing, there are plenty of women who would move into your villa, and cook for you. Anyone can make the soup you like to drink after a hangover by looking up a recipe online. Michael, I'm not the only one who can do these things..."
His Adam's apple bobbed several times, and he closed his eyes tightly, "But I love you."
Sinclair was a bit taken aback. "What... what did you say?"
Michael repeated, his voice trembling, "Sinclair, I love you... now I'm sure, I love you."
Sinclair froze, her face expressionless, not knowing whether to cry or laugh. When she had chased after him desperately, he hadn't looked at her once.
But now that she was truly tired and heartbroken, he said he loved her.
Love and being loved were common in this world. But mutual love was rare.
Michael held her shoulders, turning her to face him. "Sinclair, come home with me, okay? These days without you, I can't even work. For the first time, I realized how hard it is to lose someone you've lived with for so long. Just thinking about it, my life seems to be filled with your presence. Sinclair, you're all I have."
Michael's eyes were red as he leaned down to kiss her lips.
Sinclair stood there stiffly, neither pushing him away nor responding.
Michael held her tighter, deepening the kiss.
Sinclair closed her eyes, finally making up her mind to push him away. She looked at him and said, "You're drunk."
Michael pulled her back forcefully, locking her in his arms. "I'm not drunk. I'm very sober. Sinclair, I don't want to divorce you. You love me too, don't you? Are you still upset about Juniper? There's nothing between me and Juniper."
He had liked Juniper in his heart. But it was just a fleeting feeling. They never really experienced anything together, and that feeling was very faint.
But Sinclair was different. He and Sinclair had truly lived together, and experienced everything together. Whether it was pain or joy, going through it together only deepened their bond.
He didn't believe Sinclair could stop loving him just like that.
Lost in the kiss, Michael swept her in his arms and carried her to the sofa. With his forehead resting against hers and his breath slightly unsteady, he said in a husky voice, "Can we start over? I'll sell all my shares in SY, and we'll go abroad. We won't see those people again, no more Magnus, no more Juniper. I won't contact them anymore."
Tears slid into Sinclair's hair as she cupped Michael's face, smiling through her tears. "Do you just want to make love? One last time, and then we'll divorce."
Michael's eyes froze.
Sinclair had already raised her hand to unbutton his shirt.
But he grabbed her hand. He stared at her, his face pale. "Sinclair, why are you doing this? Is it because of the child? Do you hate me? What do I have to do for you to forgive me, besides divorce?"
Sinclair said despairingly, "But I just want a divorce now. Let's just say we weren't meant to be."
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