Chapter 277 Breathing Becomes Increasingly Difficult
Seeing Raymond's face darken, Margaret knew he was angry.
In the past, she would never have spoken like this, always considering his feelings.
Margaret exhaled, shifting her gaze away from Raymond's face. She was afraid that if she spoke too gently, Raymond wouldn't understand.
"You've finished mourning, Raymond. You can leave now," Margaret said, her voice low but firm.
Raymond clenched his fists, his facial muscles tightening.
He must have been crazy to come here and be humiliated by Margaret and Nancy.
"You don't have to remind me. I'll go.," Raymond sneered, then walked away.
As he passed by Daniel, Raymond glanced at him sideways. "Daniel, Margaret is still my wife. If you want to be with a slutty woman like her, you should at least ask your dad what he thinks."
Hearing his mocking, Margaret's breathing quickened.
Her fingers clenched, nails digging into her flesh. It took her a while to realize that Raymond was calling her a slutty woman.
So, in Raymond's heart, she was so despicable and dirty.
"Raymond, that's enough!" Margaret glared at Raymond, growling.
Raymond thought she was protecting Daniel.
He had a temper too. He walked out of the crowd without looking back.
Alvin saw Raymond brush past him and said, "Mr. Howard, don't worry. I'll keep an eye on Mrs. Howard and make sure she gets back to you safely."
Raymond gave Alvin a long look, his expression softening a bit, but he still turned and walked down the wasteland, driving away.
Marlon was his enemy. He had been too soft-hearted, and his sincerity had been trampled by Margaret.
Margaret forced down the bitterness and sorrow in her heart, putting on a forced smile as she apologized to Daniel. "Mr. Taylor, I'm sorry about earlier. Please don't take it to heart."
"I'm not that petty," Daniel said as he walked to the tombstone, placing the flowers he was holding.
After everything was over, Margaret walked side by side with Nancy.
The snow was falling heavier and heavier. Margaret's steps crunched in the thick snow, leaving a trail of footprints.
"Mom, wouldn't it be better if I were the one who died?" Margaret murmured, looking at the gray sky.
Nancy walked very slowly. Hearing this, she quickly corrected herself, "Margaret, don't talk about death. You're still young; your life is just beginning."
Margaret pressed her lips together, saying nothing.
She had terminal cancer, and there was a child in her belly shortening her life.
"You're like the morning sun at eight or nine o'clock, full of vitality. Your dad and I are like the sun after five in the afternoon, the setting is normal," Nancy said, her voice trembling.
Margaret gave a bitter smile. "But there's no sun now; it's a snowy day."
"The blizzard will pass eventually, as long as you can endure it." Nancy didn't know why, but her feet hurt terribly, like she was walking on knives.
She felt her body becoming stiffer and colder.
Nancy couldn't walk as fast anymore. She grabbed Margaret's hand. "Margaret, slow down. Listen to me."
Margaret didn't know why she was acting this way but slowed her pace.
Nancy's breathing became more labored, as if a pair of large hands were choking her throat, and her consciousness started to blur.
She seemed to see Marlon, and her younger self.
Twenty-some years ago today, she and Marlon had walked hand in hand through the snow.
After a while, Nancy saw that the hand she was holding was Margaret's, not Marlon's.
Nancy spoke slowly, "Margaret, listen to me. No matter what difficulties you face, don't give up on your life. Don't do anything foolish."
"Life only happens once. If Raymond isn't treating you well, leave him. Now that your dad is gone, you have no more burdens. If I die too, you can live your life freely."
Margaret frowned at these words. "Mom, what are you talking about?"
"But death will come eventually, Margaret. I have something to tell you. You were worried about not being able to pay for your dad's medical bills if you left Raymond, right?"
Margaret said nothing.
"Now you don't have to worry. I have money, and quite a bit. Do you remember the bookshelf in my bedroom?"
"I remember."
"At the bottom of the bookshelf, there's a drawer. The key is in your dad's study safe. The password is your birthday."
"Over the years, your dad gave me a lot of money, and I didn't spend it. It's all in there, along with some bank cards. And the jewelry and accessories your dad bought me. After he had his accident, I didn't have time to wear them. You can decide what to do with them. It might help you out."
"That money should be enough for you to live without worries. It's not that I don't love you; I just don't know how to express it. Margaret, don't blame me for hitting you. I felt more hurt than you when I hit you."
"I blame you for choosing Raymond, but I blame myself more for not helping you choose the right person. Seeing you suffer, I felt guilty and helpless. I hope you don't blame me." Nancy rambled on, and Margaret noticed that Nancy's hand in hers was getting colder and colder, unnaturally so, with no warmth at all.
She thought it was just because of the cold weather.
Margaret put Nancy's hand into her own down jacket pocket.
"That Mr. Taylor seems nice. If you don't dislike him, you could leave Raymond and try with him. I haven't done much in my life, but I have a good eye for men. Mr. Taylor is much more reliable than Raymond. He seems to like you," Nancy continued.
Margaret felt more and more uneasy. "Mom, stop talking nonsense. We're just friends. Don't say these things anymore. We both need to live well."
Nancy's words sounded like a final farewell.
"It's okay. I've said what I needed to say. If you don't like hearing it, I won't say it anymore." Nancy smiled.
Suddenly, there was a thud, and Margaret turned around.
She saw Nancy lying in the snow, snowflakes falling madly on her face, body, and clothes.
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