Chapter 363: We Are the Closest People in the World
Margaret woke up; it was already the second day since she had been injected with the amnesia drug.
She felt like she had been dreaming forever, a dream filled with her young parents and herself as a child.
The three of them, a warm and loving family. Upon waking, she couldn't remember the specific scenes from the dream.
Her mind was foggy, and she felt incredibly tired. A wave of exhaustion made her furrow her brows.
Margaret lay in the hospital bed, taking in her surroundings. She was in a hospital room. The sunlight outside was bright, almost too bright.
The white curtains weren't drawn, and the bottom of the curtains fluttered gently in the breeze.
Sunlight streamed through the window, casting a golden glow on a lush green potted plant. The leaves looked as if they were gilded.
The sunlight made her eyes ache slightly, so she lowered her gaze and saw the IV needle in the back of her hand, secured with white tape.
She glanced up and saw that the IV bag was only half empty.
Perhaps from lying in bed for so long, her body felt sore and achy, and her throat was dry. She swallowed, feeling uncomfortable.
Margaret instinctively pulled back the covers, intending to get up and get some water.
"Hey, you're awake?" A deep, slightly raspy male voice suddenly sounded beside her.
Only then did she notice the man sitting next to her bed.
The man was wearing a black coat, with a black shirt underneath. Although the style was simple, he wore it with a unique flair.
Mature, with an air of nobility.
But he had noticeable dark circles under his eyes.
Margaret studied Raymond, her delicate brows furrowing.
Had this man been watching over her the whole time?
Seeing her frown, Raymond's expression became a bit uneasy. Afraid she might get upset, he tentatively asked, "You okay? Feeling sick or anything?"
"I... I want some water." Margaret's eyes showed a hint of wariness. After a moment of hesitation, she spoke timidly, like a frightened fawn.
Raymond let out a breath. So she just wanted water. He had feared she might try to harm herself again.
He poured a cup of warm water and handed it to her.
She took it, her fingers brushing against Raymond's broad, dry palm, sending a jolt through her. Quickly, she took the cup and avoided his hand.
Margaret lowered her eyes, quietly drinking the warm water. The temperature was just right, soothing her dry throat.
The room was very quiet.
She didn't speak, and Raymond didn't press her.
It was a rare moment of peace.
Raymond picked up an apple from the fruit bowl and began peeling it with a knife. The blade moved smoothly between the red skin and the creamy white flesh.
The peel soon formed a long, continuous strip, like a flattened heart monitor line.
After peeling the apple, Raymond held it to her lips. "Your favorite, an apple."
"I like apples?" Margaret looked up, holding the cup, not taking the apple.
Raymond smiled and nodded, then took the cup from her hand and placed the apple in her palm.
He didn't tell her that she hadn't always liked apples. She used to prefer oranges, but she had grown to like apples to accommodate him.
Oranges had become less important.
"Do you know me?" Margaret didn't eat the apple, instead asking suspiciously.
Raymond nodded. "Yeah, we know each other really well. We're the closest people in the world."
"What's your name?" Margaret looked at him apologetically. "I'm sorry, I can't remember who you are. I don't even remember my own name."
She was confused. How could she forget everything after just one sleep?
Raymond smiled gently. "It's okay. We can get to know each other again. It's enough that I remember you."
"Your name is Margaret, and I'm Raymond. We're both orphans and have had similar experiences."
Margaret's brows furrowed again upon hearing she was an orphan. "Orphans?"
"Yeah, it's all in the past. Your parents passed away when you were very young. But it's okay, I'm here with you. You're not alone."
A flash of shock and sadness crossed Margaret's eyes. So she was an orphan, and her parents had died so early.
"What's our relationship?" Margaret looked at Raymond, puzzled.
Raymond spoke softly. "We're married."
"Married?" Margaret's eyes widened.
Raymond nodded. "That's right. We grew up together and have always been very close. Until you were diagnosed with late-stage liver cancer. Now we're in the hospital for treatment. A renowned doctor will be here the day after tomorrow for a consultation. He's very experienced with surgeries, so there's no need to worry."
"Don't worry about the money. We've found a suitable liver match for you. Margaret, I'll always be here with you."
Margaret took a bite of the apple, finding it tasteless. She didn't know why, but she felt a natural aversion to Raymond, who claimed to be her husband.
But he wasn't unattractive.
In fact, he was quite her type.
Margaret tossed the apple into the trash.
"What's wrong? Don't you like it?" Raymond looked concerned.
She pressed her lips together, her tone distant. "Sorry, I don't like apples anymore."
If she didn't like apples anymore, did that mean the amnesiac Margaret wasn't as enamored with him either?
Raymond felt a mix of emotions, like a jar of spices had been knocked over—sour, spicy, numbing. All sorts of feelings.
But he still smiled indulgently. "It's okay. Whatever you like, I'll get it for you."
"I don't even know what I like right now."
"We have plenty of time. We'll find what you like. I'll fulfill any request you have, not just for fruit."
"Thank you."
"Margaret, we're married. You don't need to be so formal with me."
"Can I see our marriage certificate?" Margaret still didn't quite believe him. She felt something was off, but she couldn't pinpoint what.
Raymond froze for a moment. The marriage certificate was invalid since they were divorced.
He couldn't show it to her, or she'd know the truth.
Raymond kept a straight face and reached out, as if to ruffle her hair like he used to. "I'll show you after your surgery. The documents are in Silverbrook, not with me."
Margaret dodged his hand. She felt they weren't close enough for such intimacy.
Seeing the wariness in her eyes, Raymond felt hurt. His bandaged hand hung awkwardly in the air, then slowly curled into a fist and withdrew.
It's okay. She had forgotten everything. They could start over. Raymond, you need to be patient.
"Okay." Margaret didn't press the issue. Raymond's attire and demeanor didn't suggest he was a bad person or a scammer.
Raymond wanted Margaret to rest more. As he was about to leave the room, Margaret politely called out to him. "What's your name? Can you write it down for me?"
"Sure." Raymond was momentarily taken aback, then picked up a piece of paper and a pen from the cabinet and carefully wrote his name.
Margaret watched him intently, studying his features. His long eyelashes, high nose bridge, thin but sensuous lips. So he was her husband.
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