Chapter 342: Margaret, I Don't Want to Say It Again
"Are you out of your mind?"
Margaret bit her lip, blood trickling from her cracked, colorless lips, drop by drop.
After everything she had been through, she had already lost her mind. Wasn't she entitled to?
Margaret curled up into a ball, hugging her knees tightly to her chest, her body trembling with pain.
The nurse was startled by the scene. In all her years, she had never encountered a patient so uncooperative and stubborn.
Fearing a medical incident, the nurse quickly turned and ran out of the room to find Raymond.
At that moment, Raymond was leaning against the hallway wall, looking desolate.
Alvin was whispering something to him, "Mr. Raymond Howard, Mrs. Margaret Howard's condition is terrible, and she's refusing to eat. This can't go on."
Raymond's frown deepened. He had thought Margaret was just playing a game, trying to outlast him.
He hadn't realized she was serious.
He was about to say something when the nurse rushed over, her mask barely concealing her urgency.
"Mr. Howard, there's a problem," she said breathlessly.
Raymond and Alvin turned to her.
Alvin asked, "What's the matter?"
"Ms. Hughes is refusing her medication."
"What?" Raymond's face darkened, his expression turning icy.
The nurse added, "Ms. Hughes's liver cancer is acting up, but she won't take her painkillers. Mr. Howard, you need to do something. If this continues, it could be fatal."
"Where are the painkillers?"
"Ms. Hughes knocked them over. I'll get the doctor to prescribe more."
Inside the room, Margaret's tears flowed freely.
She didn't want to cry out loud, so she bit her lower lip hard.
This pain was far worse than before.
She wanted to take the medication, but she couldn't.
Taking it would only prolong her suffering. Living was too hard.
If dying meant escaping Raymond and ending their mutual torment, she was willing.
Tears, like broken pearls, fell into her mouth, salty and warm.
Dad, Mom, are you okay in heaven?
Do you miss Margaret?
Did you think Margaret's life was too hard, so you wanted to take her away like this?
Margaret murmured in her heart, please take me away, don't drag this out any longer.
It's too painful, too sad.
She used to fear death, terrified of dying young from a terminal illness.
She had fought desperately to live.
But Raymond had given her no chance, forcing her to get pregnant, to take medication harmful to cancer patients but good for the baby.
Step by step, he had driven her to this point, to a corner with no chance of survival, no hope of escape.
Now, Margaret's mindset had changed completely.
She longed for death.
She realized it wasn't as scary as she had thought.
In just two days, she had become a regular at the crematorium, saying goodbye to her father who fell from the balcony and her mother who never returned from the funeral procession.
Leaving seemed like just a moment's matter.
So, Margaret wasn't afraid anymore.
Compared to endless arguments and torment with Raymond, she was exhausted. If she could quietly fall asleep and escape, it would be a relief.
Thinking this, Margaret's lips curled up slightly.
She would soon see her parents.
She was happy.
Not sad, not at all.
The door to the room suddenly burst open.
A gust of wind swept in.
Margaret's body, already cold on the floor, shivered violently as the cold wind hit her.
She heard the door close again.
Footsteps approached, light and hurried.
She looked down and saw a pair of black leather shoes.
These shoes were a gift she had bought for Raymond before their cold war.
In the past, seeing Raymond wear them would have made her happy, smiling from ear to ear.
But now...
Margaret looked away.
Her insides hurt more and more, like a sharp axe splitting her organs, the pain seeping into her bones.
Unable to control herself, she bit her lip and sobbed.
Raymond had been furious.
But seeing Margaret in such pain, crying so pitifully, his anger vanished, replaced by compassion.
He crouched down, intending to lift Margaret back onto the bed.
Her health was poor, and the floor was too cold for her to lie on.
"Get away!"
His hand had just touched her hospital gown when she reacted as if shocked, her voice sharp and thin, like a needle piercing Raymond's eardrum.
He was just trying to help, to get her back on the bed, and she reacted like this?
Raymond's lips twitched bitterly, but he spoke patiently, "Margaret, take your painkillers."
Painkillers?
Margaret looked up, her eyes misty.
She gave a desperate, bitter smile.
Take the painkillers and continue their endless, repetitive torment?
"Raymond, do you care about me?" Margaret's face twisted in pain.
Cold sweat dripped from her bloodless cheeks.
Raymond nodded, "Of course."
"You want me to take the medication?"
"Yes."
His insistence reminded Margaret of how he had forced her to take medication for the baby's sake.
She had asked repeatedly if she could avoid it.
He had always refused.
Now, he wanted her to take painkillers.
But she didn't need them anymore.
Margaret bit her lip, pleading, "Can we get a divorce? If you agree, I'll take the medication right away. Raymond, let's stop this. There's no point in mutual torment. For the sake of our past, for the years I loved you, for the fact that I'm dying, for the fact that my parents are gone and I'm an orphan. Grant me this one wish."
Raymond's compassion turned to gloom.
He gripped the painkiller box tightly, the sharp corners digging into his palm.
The pain in his hand was nothing compared to the sting of Margaret's words.
So, her refusal to eat and take medication was to force him to divorce, to let her be with Daniel.
Raymond suppressed his bitterness, expressionless as he opened the box, took out a strip of pills, and placed a few in his palm, "Margaret, take the medication. I won't say it again."
Log in with Google Account
Chapters
Favorite
Settings
