Chapter 440 Hypocritical Michael
Michael turned to Emma and said, "Emma, don't be mad at him. He just lost it for a second. We don't need to sink to his level. How about I cook dinner for you when we get home? Oh, and Seraphine's got a new dance she wants to show you."
Yes, Seraphine was waiting for her at home.
She didn't have time to mess around with George here.
"You're right, Michael. Let's go home." Her smile softened.
George felt like he'd been punched in the gut, his heart aching. A wave of jealousy and helplessness threatened to break his composure.
Michael's innocent smile seemed perfect, like none of this was his fault. Every word he said seemed to excuse George, yet each one deepened Emma's bias against him.
Emma had already fallen into Michael's gentle trap, her eyes fixed on him. This only made George feel more powerless and desperate, regret and helplessness tearing at his heart.
Michael, ever the gentleman, opened the car door for Emma. But just as she was about to get in, she noticed the bright red blood on Michael's sleeve.
The wound on Michael's arm had reopened.
Bright red blood was seeping through, running down his arm, a stark and glaring sight.
When Emma saw the blood, a wave of headache washed over her, muddling her thoughts. In that instant, her consciousness seemed to twist, as if some force was turning over in her heart.
Emma's expression changed noticeably, the stubborn look disappearing in an instant, replaced by the persona of the Emma who deeply loved George. She stared blankly at Michael, her mind in chaos, unable to comprehend her relationship with him.
"What am I doing?" she muttered to herself, a hint of nervousness and shyness in her expression. "I should go find George."
Michael was initially stunned, then quickly realized her personality had shifted, feeling a secret satisfaction, thinking he had succeeded.
Emma looked uneasy, not understanding why she was with Michael, wondering what her other persona had been doing.
Michael was George's uncle; how could she be alone with him?
She awkwardly said goodbye to Michael in a soft voice, "Uncle Michael, I have to go."
Turning around, she saw George standing there. Emma clung to his hand like a lifeline, relieved, "George, let's go."
George was stunned, feeling a surge of joy. The Emma who loved him was back. He whispered, "Okay, let's go." But then he felt a wave of caution, looking at Michael warily, pondering.
Could Michael have intentionally caused Emma to switch personalities?
But why?
On the way, Emma seemed somewhat dazed by everything around her, but under George's guidance, her heart gradually calmed down. At this moment, her impression of Michael began to blur, her thoughts solely focused on George, wanting to return to his warm embrace.
"What happened earlier? How did I end up here?" Emma looked at George, her voice tinged with unease.
George explained the situation simply and clearly, then settled her in his car, gently stroking her head, his eyes full of protection and tenderness.
Once Emma finally calmed down, George's pent-up frustration could no longer be contained. He stubbornly went back to confront Michael, his gaze sharp as a sword, questioning bluntly, "Michael, what are you trying to do? Did you intentionally make Emma switch personalities?"
"Not satisfied?" Michael smirked, a hint of mockery and arrogance in his eyes, completely unfazed by George's anger. "The Emma now loves you deeply. What do you have to complain about? I'm the one who should be devastated here!"
Michael's words made sense, but George's intuition told him that today's incident was orchestrated by Michael.
"No matter what your scheme is, I won't let her get hurt again!" George gritted his teeth in anger, staring directly at Michael.
Michael was definitely a formidable opponent. No matter what his plan was, George wouldn't allow him to harm Emma.
"Relax, I have no ill intentions towards Emma." Michael's smile was enigmatic, "I just want her to understand what true love is. Who she truly loves."
"Of course it's me, and only me!" George threw this line over his shoulder as he turned to leave. But after a few steps, he stopped and added, "Michael, don't let me find out you intentionally provoked Emma. Her mind can't handle the stress. You told me that yourself."
"If I were you, instead of threatening me, I'd hurry back to check on Emma."
Michael's words seemed to carry a hidden meaning, prompting George to rush back.
When he returned to the car, George's heart sank. Emma had fallen unconscious. He immediately hit the gas, speeding to the hospital.
The doctor, a specialist in psychiatry, conducted a thorough examination and explained to George, "The patient's dissociative identity disorder stems from severe psychological trauma, causing her brain to create defensive splits to protect herself. Each personality is a protective shell against harm. Although her condition seems stable now, the process requires extremely careful psychological intervention."
He continued, "Dissociative identity disorder is a complex psychological defense mechanism. When a person can't handle immense psychological pressure with a single personality, their mind creates other personalities to share the burden. It's crucial to minimize external stimuli and gradually build her sense of security, helping her integrate these different personalities."
The prognosis was relatively optimistic. Emma had woken up and seemed stable, but the doctor warned, "Avoid strong emotional fluctuations to prevent worsening her condition. The less stimulation, the better."
George sat by her bedside, his eyes full of gentle concern, holding her hand, his warm palm soothing her heart like sunlight.
"Emma, how are you feeling?"
"I'm a little scared," Emma's voice was weak, her small figure full of vulnerability.
George's heart ached. He brought her hand to his lips, kissing it gently, as if giving her an invisible strength.
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