Chapter 256
“Lindsay, there’s something I’m not sure I should say.”
Veronica’s voice softened as she studied Lindsay carefully, as though weighing the right moment to strike.
Lindsay didn’t respond immediately.
When she returned to the private room, her expression had already shifted—subtly, but unmistakably. The lightness from earlier was gone, replaced with something quieter, more restrained.
She sat down beside Michael.
He was looking down at his phone, distracted. It wasn’t until she took her seat that he looked up and gave her a brief, polite smile.
Short.
Automatic.
It only made her feel worse.
“I think I’ll call it a night,” Lindsay said suddenly. “I want to head back early.”
The room paused.
For a moment, no one seemed to process it.
“What?” one of her friends blurted. “It just started. Are you not feeling well or something?”
Michael’s head lifted slightly. “Are you okay?”
Lindsay nodded with a small smile. “I’m not very good with alcohol. I’m starting to feel a bit dizzy.”
Her friend looked at her in disbelief. “Since when do you—”
“Enough,” Lindsay interrupted gently but firmly.
A warning look silenced her immediately.
The atmosphere shifted.
Michael didn’t argue. He stood, taking his coat from the chair.
“I’ll take you home,” he said simply.
Lindsay gave a small nod.
She said her goodbyes to the group with practiced ease. “You all enjoy yourselves. Don’t let us stop the night.”
Michael had already settled the bill in advance, so the party could continue without interruption.
No one insisted she stay.
But several people exchanged uneasy looks.
Something felt off.
Too sudden.
Too controlled.
As Lindsay and Michael walked out together, Michael’s gaze briefly swept the front hall.
Empty.
No sign of Winnie.
His brows tightened faintly.
He still couldn’t understand why she had been serving there in the first place.
But it wasn’t his place to ask.
Not anymore.
Inside the car, the silence stretched.
Streetlights flickered across the windshield in steady intervals.
After a while, Lindsay finally spoke.
“That store manager earlier…” she said casually, eyes lowered, “she’s Winnie Olson, isn’t she? The second daughter of the Olson family.”
Michael’s grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly as the car approached a red light.
It stopped.
“How do you know?” he asked evenly.
His tone didn’t change, but something in his expression sharpened just a fraction.
“Veronica told me,” Lindsay replied.
A pause.
“What else did she say?” Michael asked.
Lindsay hesitated.
Then she answered anyway.
“She said you used to pursue her. That everyone in your circle knows.” A faint, careful pause. “She also said… Winnie is a heartless woman.”
Michael’s gaze stayed forward.
“Rumors are just rumors,” he said quietly. “We grew up together. We were close, yes—but we were never involved like that. And she’s not the person gossip makes her out to be.”
The answer was measured.
Controlled.
But it still sounded like defense.
Lindsay noticed.
Even if his tone was calm, the instinct behind it wasn’t neutral.
Michael didn’t usually explain himself.
And he certainly didn’t correct rumors about other women in front of his fiancée.
Not unless it mattered.
The realization settled slowly in Lindsay’s chest.
Heavy. Unwelcome.
After a long silence, she finally spoke again.
“Michael…”
Her voice was softer now but carefully steady.
“Did you choose that place for my birthday on purpose?”
The car slowed slightly at the next turn.
“I mean…” she continued, fingers tightening in her lap, “was this whole thing just to provoke her?”
A pause.
Then the question she couldn’t hold back any longer:
“Am I just… part of that plan?”
Michael didn’t answer immediately.
The silence inside the car became sharper than any argument.
Lindsay exhaled quietly, forcing herself to continue.
“You’re an excellent choice for marriage,” she said carefully. “The Morrison family background, your reputation, your future… everything is perfect.”
A faint, bitter smile touched her lips.
“I can tolerate the past. I thought I could.”
Her eyes lowered.
“But that woman… that store manager… she doesn’t look like someone you can simply ignore.”
The car stopped at another light.
Red glow washed over Michael’s face.
When he finally spoke, his voice was colder than before.
“Lindsay.”
A pause.
“I take relationships seriously,” he said. “More seriously than you think.”
His grip on the wheel tightened slightly.
“I can’t control what people say. But I also can’t control what you choose to believe.”
The words were calm.
But the distance in them was unmistakable.