Conan’s eyes turned dark as he whipped his head up. Then, he glared at me with wide eyes.
“What do you mean by this? Tell me, Sabrina! What do you mean you’re getting married to Dylan and not me?”
I looked at myself in the dressing mirror one more time and answered calmly, “I never once said I was going to marry you ever since coming back. You were the one who got creative with your imagination and thought so highly about yourself.”
I took a deep breath and stood up to check on the wedding itinerary. Then, I turned to address Conan, who was looking more and more desolate by the second.
“You said you weren’t going to attend this wedding, which is fine by me. Dylan and I never even invited you in the first place.
“If you have nothing good to say, I suggest you leave now.”
I lifted the hem of my dress to step forward, but Conan immediately dragged me back by my arm in a death grip. I could tell that a red mark would immediately form.
He stared at me icily in complete disbelief. He was shaking all over.
“Stop all this nonsense, Sabrina Lockhart! I’ve always put up with you and your fusses in the past, but this is a wedding!
“Are you crazy, Sabrina? How could you force me to marry you by dragging Dylan into this stupid game? How could you pretend to get married so that I’d get jealous? You’re insane!”
I yanked my arm away from his painful iron grip and slapped him hard across the face. The veins on his forehead immediately bulged.
I was so mad that I could only laugh. So, Conan still thought that I was deeply, madly, and hopelessly in love with him, didn’t he?
All my feelings for him had long died ever since he locked me up in the nunnery!
I rubbed the red mark on my arm, hoping it would fade quickly so I wouldn’t look disheveled. Just then, a staff member arrived to escort me to the ceremony, so I swiftly composed myself and collected my emotions.
I gave Conan a final glance before following my bridesmaids out to the venue.
