Chapter 323 The Hand Wrapped In Gauze Hurt a Lot From Her Grip
Raymond thought he misheard, so he listened a few more times.
But Margaret was still shouting, "Little Mute, run!"
As Raymond slowly straightened up, his eyes gradually turned red and complex, reflecting the indescribable turmoil he felt inside.
She was already lying in the hospital, already had cancer, and she was still thinking about that little mute.
He was really curious, about which of Margaret's words were true and which were false. Or maybe none of them were true.
She had previously explained to him that the little mute was a boy she had kindly sponsored, but she had only met him once and had forgotten his appearance, let alone his features. They had no improper relationship.
But she could remember someone she had only met once for so long! She could call his name even in her dreams!
He was her husband, why had she never called his name? It was impossible for him not to be heartbroken and not mind.
No man in the world would be indifferent to his wife having another man in her heart, including him.
Especially since Margaret used to have him in her heart, this sense of disparity made Raymond feel very uncomfortable.
Given his past temper, he would have wanted to grab her immediately and question her about who the little mute really was. Was he so important that she couldn't forget him?
But now Margaret had become like this, and he couldn't bear to wake her up because he knew Margaret was in a very dangerous condition.
Raymond felt distressed and put her fingers under the covers, hoping they would warm up a bit.
Raymond knew Margaret was the most afraid of the cold.
He lowered his eyes and only then did he realize that Margaret's hands were deathly pale, without a trace of blood.
The Margaret of the past wasn't like this. When they first got married, he had observed her fingers because her hands were slender and long, very beautiful. Her hands were a healthy pink.
He had never noticed when they became like this.
Raymond wanted her to rest well and sleep, so he tried to take her hand away.
She was holding his injured hand, which was wrapped in bandages.
Margaret, with her eyes closed, seemed to sense that he wanted to take his hand away and gripped it even tighter. She was using quite a bit of strength.
Raymond's bandaged hand hurt from her grip.
The pain made him groan and take a sharp breath.
He glanced at Margaret on the hospital bed.
She was still sound asleep, her lips still moving as if saying something.
He knew the boy she was talking about wasn't him. She was dreaming, her mind unclear, mistaking him for that little mute.
He never expected that he would one day become a stand-in for a dead person.
Raymond thought that back in college, when she pursued him relentlessly, it was probably because he resembled the little mute.
That was why she liked him and wanted to marry him.
It turned out that while he had manipulated her feelings, she had done the same to him.
The entanglements between them were too many. It was impossible to untangle them.
Raymond didn't want to be a stand-in, especially not for that little mute.
Because every time he heard her call the little mute's name, he would feel jealous and unwilling. He would feel that his efforts were in vain.
Raymond tried again to pry her fingers apart.
He didn't want to disturb her good dream, didn't want to disturb her being with her little mute in her dream. He was already being very considerate.
Margaret holding his hand and calling another man's name was indeed too much.
This time Margaret was very obedient. She didn't hold on to him tightly anymore.
Raymond's movements were very gentle, afraid of waking her up.
She had just gone through a kidnapping, fallen into the water, experienced too much, and indeed needed a good rest.
Raymond placed her hand under the warm covers, and then he left the ward.
Just as he closed the door, Alvin came over with takeout: "Mr. Howard, you haven't eaten all day. Have something to eat."
He hadn't eaten all day, but he didn't feel hungry at all.
He didn't know if he was too tired or had no appetite. Or maybe being treated as a stand-in and having Margaret hold his hand so tightly made him lose his appetite.
"I'm not hungry," Raymond said coldly.
Alvin thought he was worried about Margaret's condition and quickly said, "Mr. Howard, you should eat something. If Mrs. Howard wakes up and you collapse, that would be troublesome."
"If I collapse, she wouldn't be sad," Raymond sneered, thinking Margaret only had that little mute in her heart.
'Why would she be so obsessed with a dead person?' He thought.
"Mrs. Howard loves you the most. How could she not be sad? Once the misunderstanding is cleared up, you two will go back to how you were. Mr. Howard, you need to have confidence in yourself and in Mrs. Howard. If you collapse, then there really will be no hope." Alvin's words worked.
Raymond did eat. But the delicious food tasted bland to him.
Raymond took a couple of bites and then coldly ordered, "Have the directors of all the hospitals in Silverbrook come over."
"Mr. Howard, do you not trust Mr. Chapman's diagnosis at this hospital?"
"We'll know if it's true or not after they consult on Margaret 's case tomorrow," Raymond still didn't want to believe that Margaret had cancer, and it was in the late stage.
He couldn't think of a reason why she would have late-stage liver cancer. So the possibility of a misdiagnosis was high.
He was hoping that the other doctors' diagnosis would show that Margaret only had a minor illness.
Alvin asked again, "Should we notify Mr. Diaz?"
Raymond frowned at his words. "Not for now. Keep this from him."
"Okay, I'll take care of it," Alvin said solemnly.
Raymond didn't sleep all night, just sat in the chair by Margaret's bed, staring unblinkingly at the still-unconscious Margaret.
The once lively and energetic Margaret, how could she have late-stage liver cancer? It had to be a misdiagnosis.
Suddenly, the ward door opened, and Raymond didn't even turn his head.
Alvin walked up to Raymond and whispered in his ear, "Mr. Howard, I've arranged everything as you requested. The directors of the hospitals are bringing doctors and heading this way. They can consult on Mrs. Howard's case first thing in the morning."
"I understand," Raymond said expressionlessly.
Alvin added, "Mr. Howard, you've been working at the Hughes Group for several days. You're not a machine; you need rest."
"Enough," Raymond frowned.
With Margaret's condition like this, could he rest?
"Mr. Howard, I've been with you for so long, don't you trust me? I'll stay with Mrs. Howard. I've arranged a hotel near the hospital. You go get some sleep. I'll report to you as soon as the doctors from Silverbrook arrive tomorrow."
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