Chapter 212 Her Breakdown Was in Silent Mode
Margaret and Raymond locked eyes, their gazes intertwining. Raymond's stare was icy and sharp, reminiscent of the cold rain, heavy midwinter snow, or the unyielding ice.
Maybe it was because Margaret had just found out her cancer had spread everywhere and she didn't have much time left. She felt drained, like a balloon that had lost all its air.
They only held each other's gaze for a second before Margaret looked away. She brushed past him like he was invisible, just a stranger.
The smell of food drifted in from the kitchen. Right then, Mary came out of the kitchen, wearing an apron and carrying a tray of food. She lit up when she saw Margaret. "Ms. Hughes, you're back! We were so worried about you. It's such a relief to see you safe."
Mary was just a servant. They were neither related nor friends. But Mary cared about her so much. Raymond had never said anything like that.
Margaret felt a swirl of emotions. She was touched, sad, and confused. To put Mary at ease, Margaret forced a smile. "Thanks for worrying about me."
"Actually, Mr. Howard was more..." Mary glanced at Raymond, who had his back to them, and started to say how panicked he had been while Margaret was missing, taking care of her plants and parrot.
But Raymond turned around, his face blank. "You can go now. Come back tomorrow to cook for her."
"Yes, Mr. Howard." Mary swallowed the rest of her words.
After setting the food on the table, Mary took off her apron, said goodbye to Margaret and Raymond, and left the apartment.
Now it was just the two of them, and the air felt heavy and suffocating. Raymond told her to sit down and eat.
Margaret was exhausted. Her stomach was full, and she didn't feel like eating. But to avoid a fight with Raymond, she sat down and started eating.
Seeing she wasn't being picky, Raymond put a bit of each dish into her bowl. Margaret sighed; she really didn't want to eat. But she still finished everything he gave her.
Raymond kept his eyes on her. He noticed something was off; Margaret usually argued with him, but today she was quiet.
"What's wrong with you?" Raymond's cold voice cut through the silence.
Margaret poked at her food with a fork, her eyes downcast. "Can you be quiet while we eat?"
"I'm worried about you." Raymond's tone wavered.
Margaret stared at her food. She didn't look up, but she knew Raymond's brows were probably furrowed in anger. He always furrowed his brows when he was mad.
Margaret sneered, "I don't need your concern." His fake concern was useless.
"You don't need my concern, or is there someone else who cares about you? You know what I'm talking about. Do you think I don't know you parted ways with Daniel at the bus stop?" Raymond mocked.
Margaret finally looked up. "You followed me?" If he hadn't followed her, how could he have seen it by chance?
Raymond pressed his lips together; he hadn't followed her. He wasn't that bored or that creepy. He just happened to finish work early and saw it on his way back.
Raymond didn't bother explaining; he was too angry. "Are you feeling guilty?"
Margaret's heart shattered at his words. She thought, 'What did I do wrong? Why should I feel guilty? If he had followed me, how could he not know about my health or what Sarah did to me? The only explanation is that Raymond and Sarah are in cahoots!'
Margaret blinked her sore, swollen eyes. Her stomach was so uncomfortably full it made her want to cry. But she didn't want to cry in front of Raymond; that would be too pathetic. He did all this just to see her sad and in pain. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction.
With a clatter, Margaret put her folk on the table. Her movements were rough, making a harsh noise. But she said calmly, "I'm full."
No one knew that her current calmness was a facade she had to muster all her strength to maintain. She feared that if she stayed a second longer, she would throw the food in Raymond's face.
Margaret didn't want to argue or debate because it was useless. It would only make her realize more clearly that he truly wished for her death. There was no benefit.
She already knew and accepted this reality. No need to test it further. Margaret returned to the master bedroom, grabbed a bathrobe, and went into the bathroom.
She closed the frosted bathroom door and turned on the shower. The huge stream of water poured crazily over her head and clothes, but she didn't change her clothes. She just stood there, foolishly and blankly.
The steam rose with the heat. Even though the water was hot, Margaret felt so cold. She didn't know if it was because of the lack of concern or because she could collapse at any moment. Her limbs were so cold.
"Ms. Hughes, your body can't withstand any surgical risks now. Eat and drink whatever you want, and fulfill any unfinished wishes. The cancer has spread throughout your body, and your organs are failing. You could die at any moment; you won't make it to the New Year." The attending doctor's words echoed in Margaret's ears like a curse.
Margaret had loved New Year's Eve as a child. The family would gather and enjoy happiness. The whole family would watch TV together. Those days were gone. She and Raymond, the beautiful life with her parents – all gone!
Her heart labored under the crushing pressure. In the steam-filled bathroom, she turned the shower to the maximum. The water gushed down. Margaret's cheeks and skin were burned, leaving red marks.
With a wail, Margaret sobbed in pain. Afraid that Raymond outside the door would hear, mock, and ridicule her, she tightly covered her mouth with her hand. Her tears were quickly washed away by the water.
An adult's breakdown often happened in an instant, and any small thing could have been the last straw. For Margaret at this moment, her breakdown was in silent mode.
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