Chapter 1361:
“What is it?” Brandon barked through gritted teeth.
“Giffard and Charles are waiting at the bridge,” Darden’s voice crackled through the line.
“They’re planning to block you.”
“What?!” Brandon snapped his head up, narrowing his eyes toward the horizon.
Ahead, whipping in the fierce wind, the long hem of Millie’s wedding dress unfurled—layer after layer rising and falling like restless tides. From her loosening hairpin, scattered ornaments drifted like soft petals, carried endlessly through the air.
Again, her earlier words rang in his ears—the ones she had spoken just before Myron barged in: “He will come for me—even if he has to carry my dead body out of here.” Why had she spoken with such unwavering certainty?
And the moment she saw Myron—her instinctive, heartfelt trust—revealed a truth Brandon understood all too well… yet refused to face.
His eyes burned with desperation. He had to take her back. He couldn’t release her—not like this, not in silence.
But no matter how fiercely he pressed down on the accelerator, the distance between them only stretched farther, like a cruel horizon refusing to draw closer.
On the cross-river bridge, the wind roared against them. Millie clung tightly to Myron’s back as they sped ahead. They were nearly off the bridge now—she could already glimpse a crowd gathered on the opposite side.
And at that very moment—
“Millie!”
A voice rang out. Brandon’s voice.
Myron glanced in the rearview mirror and saw that Brandon had stopped his car. Brandon had already stepped out and was standing alone on the bridge, staring after them.
Myron’s brows drew together as he lowered his gaze, catching Millie’s reflection in the mirror.
“He looks like he might jump,” Myron murmured, easing the motorcycle to a stop.
𝗥𝗲𝗽𝗹𝗶𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗼𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗹 → g⍶𝗅𝗇𝗈ν𝖊𝗅𝘀ꞏⅽ𝗼𝗺
Millie didn’t respond. She simply held on to him, silent.
“Millie…” Brandon stood on the bridge, watching the halted motorcycle ahead.
“I think so too. He seems completely unstable.”
On the other side of the bridge, Alexia, Charles, and Egbert were equally tense.
“What should we do?” Alexia fretted, pacing anxiously.
“Brandon is practically threatening her with his own life!”
Jayceon was no calmer.
“According to the dramatic romance novels I’ve read, if Brandon jumps and actually dies, Millie will feel guilty forever. Myron would be in serious trouble!”
Charles, meanwhile, looked ready to charge over and shake Brandon awake. Did he not know how to let go and walk away with dignity? Giffard had also caused a scene before—but eventually stepped back after seeing what Millie really wanted.
While everyone typed furiously in the comment sections—
“There’s movement! Millie and Myron are making a move!”
Every gaze locked onto the motorcycle carrying Millie. Brandon’s did, too.
Kneeling on the ground, he stared ahead, waiting for the vehicle to turn around—waiting for her to come back to him.
.
.
.