Chapter 753:

He’d been by her side for years. She’d survived James’ death and Hayden’s abuse. They’d battled through every hardship, mourned the loss of their child, and even when he’d talked about ending their marriage, she had managed to keep going.

But now, according to Rita, Millie had finally given up.

He wanted to believe the doctor was mistaken, maybe even lying. Yet, deep down, Brandon recognized the truth in Rita’s voice. He was the one who had pushed Millie to the edge. Still, he clung to denial.

Rita, with her reputation as a physician, had no reason to mislead him. Even if Myron had tried to buy her off, Brandon could easily outbid him. She didn’t have to confess any of this, but in her own way, Rita was trying to give him a final warning—a small act of kindness he didn’t deserve.

So, what now? Was he truly supposed to just let go? If he did, what would become of him?

Meanwhile, in Flaville, morning had already broken. Giffard hadn’t slept a wink, nerves stretched to the breaking point. Every minute felt endless, but he had to wait for the exact moment to put his escape plan into motion.

The anxiety was eating him alive. He lived in constant fear that the institution would catch him, plagued by worry over Millie’s safety and burning with a fierce, bitter hatred for Brandon.

Security from the institution had ramped up their search efforts—so much so that even out in the remote mountains, a sudden loss of signal left him rattled before sunrise.

By some miracle, he made it through undetected.

Suddenly, Giffard’s phone buzzed, and a message popped up from his inside source. He scanned the new escape route and hurried down the mountain, managing to link up with his getaway driver.

The car sped down the road.

Without wasting a second, Giffard tore off part of his sleeve to bind a wound and said, “Get me to the airport. I have to go home now!”

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In Crobert, the sun was already shining high.

Millie slowly opened her eyes and found Myron lying beside her. He had woken before her, and when he saw her stir, he smiled warmly.

“Morning. How are you feeling?” he asked.

Millie gave a small nod, remembering the chaos of the night before. Embarrassed, she turned her face away.

Myron understood her thoughts without a word. His arm circled her waist, wrapping her completely in his embrace. He breathed in the faint scent of her shampoo. If not for her illness, these days would feel like pure bliss.

Millie only gazed out the window, lost in silence. Time seemed to crawl.

The next few days were calm. Millie’s physical injuries healed quickly under her doctor’s care, leaving fresh skin behind. Rita came often for check-ups as well. She mentioned MECT, but Millie refused. With the concert so close, she said treatment could wait. For now, she endured injections and medication.

Perhaps it was the drugs, but Millie felt numb, as though drifting through fog. Days slipped by, leaving her confused and detached.

Three days after the rehearsal, she sat by the window, listening absentmindedly as Charles confirmed details for the concert over video call. Across the room, Myron buried himself in work, busier than usual. Noticing her, he finally set his papers aside, walked over, and crouched before her.

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