Chapter 346 If Margaret dies, you will all die too
Raymond had been pulling all-nighters for days. When he heard the news from Alvin over the phone, he didn't even think about resting. He hung up, grabbed his black suit jacket with subtle patterns, threw it over his shoulders, and rushed out of the hotel suite.
The hotel was about a ten-minute walk from the hospital.
Raymond made it in three.
He arrived at the entrance of the operating room.
A crowd had gathered around a hospital bed.
Raymond hurried over.
Margaret's hair was disheveled, she was in a hospital gown, and her face looked ghastly, devoid of any color.
Her long hair clung messily to her cheeks.
She was struggling to breathe.
Her eyes were unfocused.
Her eyelids kept fluttering shut, then opening again.
"Mrs. Margaret Howard, Mr. Raymond Howard is here. Mr. Raymond Howard is here," Rufus called out urgently.
At the sound of his voice, Margaret forced her eyes open.
She scanned the crowd until she found Raymond's face.
He must have come in a hurry because she noticed his shirt buttons were mismatched.
Raymond was never careless; he always paid attention to every detail.
The only explanation was that he had rushed over.
Seeing Margaret in such a state, barely clinging to life, Raymond felt a mix of worry, anger, and fear swirling in his eyes. He glared at Rufus, Alvin, and the nurses gathered around the bed. "She's in this condition, and you're not starting the treatment?"
"Mr. Raymond Howard, Mrs. Margaret Howard insisted on seeing you before going in. We didn't want to upset her," Rufus explained, his voice tense.
Margaret started coughing, struggling to speak. "It's... me... not going in..."
She meant not to blame the innocent.
"Now that I'm here, take Margaret in for treatment," Raymond said coldly.
If they delayed any longer, it would be fatal.
Margaret reached out her frail, twig-like hand and grabbed Raymond's suit sleeve.
The diamond cufflink on his sleeve was yanked off and fell to the floor.
"Div...orce..." Margaret struggled to speak.
Raymond was infuriated by her condition.
She had gone on a hunger strike and stopped her medication just to get a divorce.
Now, even on the brink of death, she was still making demands!
"Margaret, this isn't the time for tantrums," Raymond said, holding back his anger and trying to coax her. "Be good."
Margaret gave a bitter smile.
Her gaunt cheeks showed a smile of despair.
As she smiled, tears filled her eyes.
Be good? Hadn't she been good enough?
Since she met Raymond, she had been so obedient.
But what had it brought her?
A broken family, an incurable disease, and a marriage in ruins.
If she had known that listening to Raymond would lead to this, she would never have obeyed.
She would have listened to Nancy and found a man who loved her. This was her punishment for being blind.
Margaret gasped for air, crying so hard she could barely breathe.
Raymond's frown deepened. Was it really so hard for her to be his wife?
She was crying like this.
Raymond's hand gripped the bed rail tightly, the veins on the back of his hand standing out, showing his restrained anger.
"Raymond, are you just going to watch me die?" Margaret sobbed, her teeth biting down on her pale lips.
Was he going to watch her die?
"If I don't agree to the divorce, you won't get treated, is that it?" Raymond's eyes reddened, his voice filled with frustration.
Alvin couldn't hold back any longer. "Margaret, Raymond loves you. Forcing him like this isn't gonna help."
"Yeah. Watch me die or let me go. Raymond, it's your call," Margaret said, tears streaming down her face, tasting salty as they slipped into her mouth, her throat tight with emotion.
Raymond's veins bulged with anger.
Thinking about the Margaret who was now forcing him, and the once bright and cheerful woman he had loved, he realized there was no going back.
She knew he loved her, couldn't bear to see her suffer, couldn't bear to see her die, and that's why she and Daniel had conspired like this.
But his wife, the woman he loved, had lived with Daniel behind his back, run away, and now was using her illness to force a divorce.
Why?
How could she do this to him?
He was a victim too. His parents had been killed by Marlon. Margaret was innocent, but so was he.
No one understood him, no one sympathized with him.
Only relentless pressure, only endless curses.
Raymond punched the wall.
The hand he used was the one already wrapped in bandages.
Blood instantly soaked through the bandages.
It was a horrifying sight.
"Mr. Howard!" Alvin exclaimed.
Raymond didn't feel the pain. His heart hurt more.
He turned his gaze back to the bed, to the helplessly crying Margaret.
Margaret, who had once been a lively girl, was now like this.
They had once loved each other so much...
"Margaret, do you really want to force me like this? We're husband and wife. We can talk things over once you're better," Raymond said, still patient, trying to soothe her.
Margaret forced a smile, struggling to speak. "But I don't want to be your wife anymore."
Marriage depended on fate.
Some couples had deep, strong bonds.
They could grow old together, inseparable.
Never turning against each other.
Like her parents.
She had once thought her husband would be like Marlon, responsible, good to his wife, good to his children.
But now she saw it wasn't the case. She wasn't as lucky as her mother.
Her bond with Raymond was too thin.
That's why they couldn't withstand any setbacks and had become enemies.
She didn't love him as much as she thought. She couldn't get past that barrier, couldn't pretend nothing had happened.
"Raymond, divorce," Margaret reiterated.
He never thought her dying wish would be this.
It seemed her heart was no longer with him.
"Mr. Howard, maybe you should agree for now? We can't delay any longer; her condition is critical," Rufus said, placing his fingers under Margaret's nose to check her breathing, his face grave.
"People can reconcile while they're alive. Once they're gone, they're gone," a nurse added.
Raymond scoffed, his eyes red, his nose red.
It wasn't like that. Even if Margaret lived, they couldn't reconcile.
Their marriage was like a mirror he had accidentally dropped, shattering into pieces.
He had tried to pick up the pieces with his bare hands, spending time and effort to glue them back together.
Now he realized the broken mirror had left his hands bloody and wounded, serving no purpose. The past was truly gone.
"Fine, I'll divorce!" Raymond turned away, as if using all his strength to make this decision. "Take Margaret in for treatment! If she dies, you'll all pay for it!"
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