Chapter 1469

“Didn’t you miss me?” she whispered near his ear.

Her touch felt real, and a longing he had buried stirred inside him. Yet something felt wrong.

Brandon pushed her away, keeping space between them. His expression tightened as he studied her closely.

“Who are you?” he asked, holding back his emotions.

Tears gathered in her eyes. “It’s me, Millie. Why are you acting like this? Don’t you care about me anymore?”

“You…” Brandon’s eyes grew red. “Are you truly… Millie?”

She insisted, “It’s me. I came back for you. Don’t you want me?”

She reached for his injured leg, leaning close, her voice sweet, her scent clinging to him. The air in the room felt hotter. She tugged at his clothes, climbing onto his wheelchair.

Everything around him felt hazy, unreal.

Brandon stared at her face, her tone, her movements. Was she truly the woman he longed for? Had she really returned?

His heart tightened painfully, his eyes stinging.

The woman slid closer and tried to kiss him, loosening her own clothes as she leaned in.

At the last second, Brandon turned away. He pushed her off him.

“Brandon?” She grabbed his collar, looking wounded.

He lifted her and threw her onto the floor.

“What are you doing? Why are you treating me like this?” she cried.

“Tell me who you are. Why are you pretending to be Millie?” Brandon demanded, every word heavy.

Even though he dreamed of this scene every night, even though he wished desperately that she would come back, deep inside he knew the truth.

Millie had married Myron. And she would never say or do such things to him again. She would never look at him with that kind of eager, desperate expression.

She was warm, steady, passionate, timid at times, confident at others, sorrowful, determined—but never desperate like this.

“Brandon, I…” she began.

Brandon roared, “Enough! Speak now! Who sent you? Why are you pretending to be Millie? What do you want?”

Her face drained of color, guilt flickering in her eyes as the illusion crumbled.

Under the light, every detail that once resembled Millie suddenly looked false.

Brandon’s anger flared, and he clenched his teeth, remembering the water he drank earlier.

“You spiked my water!” he growled.

The woman’s expression softened again, copying Millie’s softness, tears spilling as she begged, “Mr. Watson… Just imagine I’m her. She’s lying in that bed, unresponsive, and even if she wakes up, she belongs to Myron now. You still love her. So let me be her. Let me copy her, follow her steps, become her shadow. If that gives you a moment of comfort… isn’t that enough?”

The woman scrambled upright, reaching toward Brandon’s wheelchair.