Chapter 190 Life Can Only Go Forward
Margaret's health was still in shambles. Back at Silverwood Hospital, the doc had warned her that her body was already frail, and she had suffered a miscarriage. She needed to take it easy, avoid stress, and definitely not get worked up.
But now that Marlon's meds were cut off, it didn't seem to matter if she was sad or upset anymore. She couldn't dodge it; she was going to die sooner or later.
Margaret's body was too weak, and cancer cells could flare up anytime, eating her alive. Driving was a no-go for her. So, she grabbed a cab to Raymond's apartment.
On the way, she kept urging the driver to go faster and faster. The driver floored it so hard it was a miracle the car didn't catch fire. What usually took ten minutes, they covered in two.
Margaret paid double the fare, shoved the car door open, and got out. A blast of cold air hit her like a slap, the wind cutting her face like a knife, making it hard to breathe.
The snow turned into a heavy downfall, landing on her curled and upturned lashes, her pale cheeks, and her chapped lips. Margaret wrapped her coat tighter around herself, crossed the street, and walked to the apartment entrance.
She tried her fingerprint. The machine beeped, telling her the fingerprint was wrong. Raymond had changed the code! Was he really cutting her off completely?
Usually, she was pretty level-headed, but thinking of Marlon still waiting for her in the hospital, she swallowed her pride and pulled out her phone with her frozen fingers.
She called Raymond's number and realized she was still blocked. Margaret blinked and then called Alvin. Alvin picked up quickly and was super respectful. "Mrs. Howard, is there something you need?"
Alvin's voice was gentle and polite, always talking to her with great care. Margaret felt a pang of bitterness. Her marriage with Raymond was long dead, yet Alvin still called her Mrs. Howard, not forgetting she had once introduced his wife to him.
"Is Mr. Howard at Hughes Group?" Margaret asked.
Alvin replied, "No, Mr. Howard just got drunk at a bar, and I just sent him back to the apartment."
"Is he still in the apartment?" Margaret asked again.
He paused for a moment and said, "I'll check for you. Please hold on, Mrs. Howard."
The call ended. Margaret stood in the cold wind. Her frail body trembled in the heavy snow.
Soon, Alvin was back on the line. "Mrs. Howard, Mr. Howard is still in the apartment. Is something wrong?"
Margaret thought, 'Telling him wouldn't help; he might even get blamed by Raymond.'
"No. You go ahead with your work." Margaret hung up the phone.
With her pale, slender fingers frozen stiff, Margaret kept pressing the doorbell. No one opened the door for her.
Margaret knew Raymond was doing it on purpose. He must know it was her outside. He might even be watching her miserable state from upstairs.
Her fingers went numb from pressing, so Margaret went to the store to buy a new SIM card. This wasn't the first time she had done this. When Marlon needed money after his car accident, she had bothered Raymond the same way.
This was the second time. Margaret installed the new card, and the phone screen had several deep cracks. That was from when Raymond had smashed her phone during an argument.
The store clerk was all smiles, trying to sell her a new phone, saying there was a promotion and it was a great deal. Margaret didn't have time for a new phone; she was a dying woman, no point in wasting money.
As soon as she declined, the clerk's face turned sour, full of disdain. Margaret knew she was probably being judged as too poor to afford a new phone. She didn't care.
She headed back to the apartment entrance. The heavy snow blurred her vision. She stepped on the snow, making crunching sounds.
Margaret used the new number to call Raymond again. The cold wind howled loudly.
He probably didn't know it was her, so he answered neither too quickly nor too slowly. As soon as the call connected, Margaret held the phone, bit her lip, and said, "Raymond, I know you're in the apartment. I need to see you; I need to talk to you in person."
"What right do you have to talk to me?" Raymond sneered, his disdainful voice piercing Margaret's ears, "Margaret, I don't want to see you. Get as far away as you can!"
Sometimes, one's words could hurt invisibly. Like Raymond's did now. Margaret bit her lip, blinking her dry eyes. Of course, she wanted to leave, to go far away. But she couldn't leave and hide!
Margaret also wondered why death was taking so long to come. Did it have to torture her like this? Wasn't it enough that her body was tormented by illness? Did Raymond really have to torment her soul too?
She tried to keep her tone calm, afraid of angering him. "Raymond, I need to see you."
"Are you deaf? I said I don't want to see you, you vicious, filthy woman!"
Tears were about to fall, but she didn't want to cry, saying, "Then I'll kneel here until you see me!"
With that, Margaret fell to her knees in the snow outside the apartment. The snow was deep and thick, soaking into her thick pants. The snow soaked through her pants, making her knees feel unbearably cold.
Margaret said again, "Raymond, you cut off my dad's medication. I can't live either. I'll kneel here until you agree to save him."
"Who told you to come and negotiate with me? Margaret, if you want to kneel, then go ahead. I'll just get another urn and send you and your father off together!"
The call was disconnected. The phone slipped from Margaret's hand, falling into the snow with a thud.
Margaret used to care most about her dignity. Even when Raymond came back to ask for a divorce and ignored her for a whole year, she never swallowed her pride to beg him to stay, no matter how much it hurt.
But now, the dignity she once cared about had long been shattered by Raymond. The first time she knelt in the snow was also because Marlon needed money. At that time, Marlon had a car accident and urgently needed medical expenses.
He made her kneel outside Hughes Group building and even called a bunch of media to humiliate her. If Daniel hadn't arrived in time, she would have been laughed at by everyone online.
Raymond, who once said he would treat her well for a lifetime, was so heartless. Margaret still couldn't accept such a difference.
So liking someone could be faked. Was he a born actor? She remembered their first night together, when he ate the food she made, when she tied his tie—his eyes clearly had a sparkle, he clearly liked her. How could he act so well and convincingly?
Thinking of this, Margaret felt a wrenching pain in her liver, making her curl up in the snow.
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