Chapter 599 Shot
Emma stood at the doorway, soaked to the bone, rainwater dripping from her hair onto the floor. Her face was ghostly pale, her lips trembling from the cold, but her eyes were piercingly clear.
"I remember everything now." Her voice was soft but cut through Michael's heart like a knife. "Including how you hypnotized me."
Michael's hand trembled slightly, causing the gun to shift away from George's chest. "Emma, what are you talking about? It's pouring outside, you'll catch a cold."
"Enough!" Emma's voice rose, filled with years of suppressed anger. "Stop pretending you care about me!"
She walked into the living room, leaving a trail of wet footprints behind her. "I remember everything. The drugs you gave me every day, the so-called 'treatments'—they were all to mess with my memory."
George's eyes widened in shock. "What drugs?"
"A mix of sedatives and hallucinogens," Emma said with a bitter laugh. "To blur the lines between reality and illusion, giving you the chance to alter my memories."
Michael's expression cracked slightly. "Emma, you're sick. These are just delusions."
"Delusions?" Emma pulled a phone from her pocket, showing a video on the screen. "Then what is this?"
In the video, Michael was whispering into a Emma's sleeping ear. "You will forget everything about George. You will hate him. Only I truly love you."
Michael's face turned ghostly pale. "This can't be. I deleted all the footage."
"Too bad you forgot the head nurse at the hospital was suspicious of you. She kept the evidence," Emma said, tears glistening in her eyes.
George's gun fell to the floor as he stared at Michael in disbelief. "You did this to her?"
"I did it all for her!" Michael shouted hysterically. "Look at what she became with you! Covered in scars, wishing for death!"
Emma stood beside George, facing Michael. "Yes, George hurt me before. But at least his love was real, unlike your drug-induced, hypnotic fantasy."
Michael's hand shook uncontrollably. "Emma, you have no idea how much I've sacrificed for you."
"I know," Emma's voice softened. "I know you stayed by my bedside every day. I know you gave up your career for me. I know you even studied psychology for two years to help with my depression."
A glimmer of hope appeared in Michael's eyes. "Then you should understand, I did it all because..."
"Because of love?" Emma shook her head. "No, Michael. True love isn't about control or imprisonment. It's about respecting the other person's choices, even if it breaks your heart."
Michael's face twisted in anguish. "So you want to go back to the man who almost killed you?"
He raised the gun, this time aiming at Emma. "Then I'd rather destroy you myself!"
George immediately stepped in front of Emma. "Michael! You're insane!"
"Yes, I'm insane!" Michael laughed maniacally. "From the moment I saw Emma, I went mad! I've lived like a zombie, watching the woman I love cry over another man!"
His finger tightened on the trigger, trembling. "One last chance, Emma. Come back to me, or else..."
Emma gently pushed George aside, facing Michael's gun. "Or what? Kill me?" She gave a sorrowful smile. "That'd be better than living in your lies."
Michael's finger hovered on the trigger, the gun shaking but never moving away. His eyes were filled with pain and madness, his voice breaking. "Emma, do you really want to push me this far?"
Emma looked at him, her eyes filled with pity rather than fear. "Michael, put the gun down. You know better than anyone, you could never hurt me."
Her tone was certain, as if stating an undeniable truth.
Michael's breath hitched, his hand trembling. How could he possibly shoot her? Even if she betrayed him, left him, he couldn't destroy her with his own hands.
But his hatred needed an outlet.
In the next moment, he turned the gun on George, his eyes cold and sharp. "Then he must die!"
As the gunshot rang out, Emma threw herself in front of George without hesitation. The bullet tore through the air, piercing her shoulder, blood instantly soaking her clothes.
"Emma!" George cried out, catching her as she collapsed, his voice breaking.
Michael stood frozen, his pupils dilating, the gun slipping from his hand. He watched the blood pour from Emma's shoulder, his world crumbling.
"Why?" His voice was barely audible. "Why would you take a bullet for him? Why won't you come back to me?"
Emma, pale with pain, looked at him with a mix of emotions. "Michael, I don't want you to become a criminal."
She gasped, her voice weak but firm. "You saved me, took care of me. I don't want to see you turn into a murderer."
But to Michael, her words were the cruelest answer.
Emma took the bullet not out of love, but out of pity.
She'd rather get hurt than let him bear the guilt, but her heart still belonged to George.
Michael stumbled back, the light in his eyes extinguished. He laughed, a hollow, desperate sound. "So I don't even deserve your hatred."
George had no time for Michael's breakdown. He pressed his trembling hands to Emma's wound, his voice frantic. "Emma! Hold on! I'll get you to the hospital!"
He scooped her up and rushed out the door, not sparing Michael another glance.
Michael stood there, staring at the pool of blood on the floor, feeling as if his soul had been ripped away.
He had lost.
Completely and utterly.
Outside the operating room, George stood covered in blood, his hands clenched so tightly his knuckles were white. He replayed the moment Emma shielded him over and over, his heart breaking.
"She could have left me," he whispered, his voice raw. "She could have hated me forever."
But Emma had taken the bullet for him.
She had forgiven him.
She was even willing to die for him.
This realization tore at George's heart. He sank to the floor, burying his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking.
Meanwhile, Michael stood alone on the hospital rooftop, the cold wind tousling his hair. He looked down at his trembling hands, his mind filled with the image of Emma falling.
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