Chapter 634 New Wedding Night
As the door clicked shut, Celeste finally broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. She curled up into a ball, like a lost child.
Michael stood at the hospital entrance, letting the rain drench his hair. Zachary's words echoed in his mind, and he couldn't shake the image of Celeste's pale face.
He remembered the first time he brought her home, how she looked like a scared deer; he remembered the look in her eyes, hoping for praise after completing a task; he remembered her secretly learning to cook his favorite dishes, her hands covered in burns...
His heart suddenly ached intensely, and Michael finally had to admit a fact: he cared. He cared so much that he was afraid to admit it, because once he did, it meant he had a weakness.
During the days Celeste was in the hospital, the entire city was immersed in a festive atmosphere.
George and Emma's disrupted wedding was being held again, becoming the most sensational news in town. The church was decorated into a sea of flowers, with white roses lining the path from the entrance to the altar, each petal glistening with morning dew in the sunlight.
Guests whispered among themselves, discussing the previous absurd wedding...
"Did you hear? Someone impersonated Emma and almost fooled everyone. But in the end, true love triumphed."
"It's so touching," a lady dabbed at her eyes, "I knew Mr. Russell would recognize his own wife."
"I heard the impostor is locked up now," someone whispered, "Serves her right!"
Inside the church, Emma wore a custom-made wedding dress, the hem adorned with tiny diamonds, making each step look like she was walking on a river of stars. Her face held a gentle smile, her gaze never leaving George standing at the altar.
George wore a sharp black suit, a white rose pinned to his chest. He watched Emma slowly approach, his heart pounding. But strangely, another face kept flashing in his mind—Wanda.
"I do." When the priest asked the sacred question, George answered without hesitation. But his temples throbbed, as if something was tearing at his memories.
At the reception, the champagne tower sparkled under the lights. George held Emma's waist, twirling on the dance floor. Her jasmine-scented hair lingered at his nose. But every time he closed his eyes, he saw Wanda's face, so similar to Emma's.
"George, are you okay?" Emma noticed his discomfort, her soft hand touching his forehead.
George forced a smile. "I'm fine, just tired."
But his heart felt split in two, one half madly in love with Emma, the other stubbornly clinging to Wanda. This divided feeling nearly suffocated him.
As night deepened, guests gradually left. George and Emma returned to their home.
"You must be tired," Emma said considerately, helping him take off his coat, "I'll run a bath for you."
George grabbed her hand. "Emma."
She turned back, her eyes sparkling like stars in the light.
George suddenly didn't know what to say. He wanted to ask her about Wanda but feared hurting her. In the end, he just gently pulled her into his arms. "Thank you for coming back to me."
Emma leaned against his chest, listening to his strong heartbeat. "I'll never leave you again."
In the bathroom, George splashed cold water on his face, trying to clear his mind. Why? Why did he keep thinking of Wanda when he loved Emma? It felt like someone had implanted memories that weren't his.
"George?" Emma knocked gently, "You've been in there a while, are you okay?"
George dried off, put on a robe, and walked out. Emma had changed into a silk nightgown, her long hair cascading over her shoulders, so beautiful it made his heart ache.
"I..." He started to speak, but a sudden sharp pain hit him, and he fell to his knees, clutching his head.
"George!" Emma held him in panic, "What's wrong?"
"My head... it hurts..." George gritted his teeth, flashes of fragmented images... Wanda smiling at him, Wanda feeding him medicine, Wanda whispering in his ear...
"Look at me," Emma cupped his face, her voice gentle yet firm, "Just look at me."
Her eyes were like a clear spring, gradually soothing his pain. George's breathing steadied, but the confusion in his eyes remained.
"Emma, I..." he struggled to speak, "I feel like something's wrong."
Emma's fingertip pressed lightly against his lips. "Don't think about anything." She leaned in, kissing his forehead, "Tonight, it's just us."
Moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting a glow on the bed. Emma's fingers traced George's features. Her touch was as light as a feather, yet carried an undeniable force.
"Do you remember our reunion?" she asked softly, "In college, I bumped into your arms."
George's brow relaxed. "I remember you looked so angry, like a little pufferfish."
Emma laughed, guiding his memories. "Then you 'accidentally' ran into me every day, but it was all on purpose, wasn't it?"
"Yeah," George's eyes softened, "I remember you loved the bubble tea from the shop by the school gate, always with extra pearls."
The floodgates of memory opened, the true emotions hidden by hypnosis surged back. George suddenly flipped Emma beneath him, looking deeply into her eyes. "Emma, I..."
His kiss came down, urgent and passionate, as if making up for lost time. Emma responded to his fervor, her fingers threading through his hair.
"I love you," she whispered against his lips, "Only you."
This declaration was like a key, unlocking the last shackle in George's heart. He held her tightly, as if to merge her into his very being.
As night deepened, their breaths intertwined. George's every move was tender, treating her like the most precious treasure. Emma's fingertips traced his spine, leaving a trail of shivers.
"Look at me," she whispered in his ear, "Just look at me."
George gazed at the woman beneath him, the face he longed for, the eyes he dreamed of. All doubts and pain vanished in that moment.
"Emma." His voice was hoarse and filled with emotion, "My Emma."
When they finally became one, George felt something shatter in his mind, the last remnants of hypnosis. Wanda's shadow disappeared completely, leaving only the Emma he loved to his core.
As dawn broke, Emma lay in George's arms, listening to his steady heartbeat. His arm held her tightly, as if afraid she would vanish.
"Does it still hurt?" she asked softly.
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