Chapter 365: Never Thought You Would Die on the Operating Table?
"Of course, I love her more."
"So, Mr. Raymond Howard, you were the one who chased after Mrs. Margaret Howard?" The female host teased with a playful smile.
Raymond hesitated for a moment, seemingly caught off guard by the question, but then nodded with a grin, acknowledging it.
Margaret turned off her tablet. So, he was the one who pursued her. He had told her she was an orphan, her parents died when she was very young, and they grew up together.
She had found out through her research that Raymond wasn't just any man; he was a bona fide CEO, with looks and a great physique.
And he married her, never leaving her side. He was indeed an exceptional man.
Nowadays, many successful people, once they make it big, the first thing they do is replace their wives with younger, prettier, or more advantageous ones.
But she was just an orphan, with nothing to her name and a body full of ailments. He never despised her. To say she wasn't grateful would be a lie.
In the blink of an eye, it was the day of her consultation.
David was in his seventies but looked remarkably energetic. His eyes were sharp, as if he could see through anything.
Margaret sat in the examination room, wearing a loose hospital gown.
David carefully examined her condition.
Daniel, dressed casually, stood next to David.
Raymond stood beside Margaret.
David's expression grew increasingly serious, his face clouded with worry. He frowned and sighed from time to time.
Margaret's heart sank a little more with each sigh. Her fingers, resting on her hospital gown-covered knees, clenched tightly. She was very anxious and worried.
Margaret asked David about her condition.
David didn't know how to respond.
"Is it serious?" Margaret asked again.
David said, "It's quite tricky. Not easy to handle."
With David saying that, Raymond and Daniel both started to worry. Daniel quickly asked, "Mr. Jones, do you have a solution? Can Margaret undergo surgery in her current condition?"
"Surgery is possible, but the chances of success are slim," David admitted. He never liked to lie.
Raymond also asked, "What are the odds?"
"At most, a forty percent chance. There's a greater likelihood that Ms. Hughes will die on the operating table. You need to consider whether to proceed with the surgery. Ms. Hughes' condition has been delayed for too long," David sighed. "Ten days ago, the odds were fifty percent."
Margaret's eyelashes trembled, and she pressed her lips together.
It turned out that her stubbornness and fear of taking medication had caused her to miss the best treatment window.
Margaret's face turned pale, and her breathing became heavy. She took a deep breath and looked at David. "If I don't have the surgery, how long do I have?"
"Given the current spread of your cancer cells, it's a matter of days."
Those words hit Margaret like a hammer, making her head spin.
She steadied herself and heard Raymond ask, "So, you're saying that undergoing surgery offers some hope, even if it's slim. But without surgery, she'll die even sooner?"
"That's one way to look at it," David said.
Margaret bit her lip. She hadn't realized her condition had deteriorated to this extent.
She thought that having a consultation would mean a high chance of success, but it was only forty percent!
"I'll have the surgery," Margaret said softly but with determination.
David squinted at her. "Ms. Hughes, are you sure? I can't guarantee you'll come out of the surgery unscathed."
"I've made up my mind. If I'm lucky, maybe a miracle will happen," Margaret said, as if trying to convince herself. Miracles were rare, which is why they were called miracles.
If there were miracles, she wouldn't be this sick.
But she couldn't be selfish. Raymond had been so good to her. Alvin had said that Raymond had postponed work and spent a lot of money to treat her.
If she gave up, it would mean all the money spent on her treatment would be wasted.
She was just an orphan with nothing to her name. Raymond, a successful man, had chosen her and remained devoted. The least she could do was fight for her life and continue treatment.
A nurse came in, reminding Margaret it was time for her injection.
Margaret thanked David and got up to leave the examination room. Raymond was about to follow her, but David called him back. "Mr. Howard, stay. I need to talk to you."
Raymond had to stay, letting the nurse help Margaret out.
"Daniel, you step out too," David said, stroking his beard.
Daniel nodded and left to find Margaret.
The examination room door closed.
David smiled at Raymond. "Mr. Howard, where did you find a liver match for Ms. Hughes? We've been searching for a long time without success."
"I'm donating," Raymond said calmly.
David's smile vanished instantly. He squinted and sat up straight. "Mr. Howard, you must really love your wife to be willing to donate your liver. But I must remind you, Ms. Hughes needs an entire left lobe. Removing your left lobe, I can't guarantee you'll survive. Even if you do, there could be complications. Is your body up to it?"
Raymond's arm at his side tensed. He and Margaret were both gambling with their lives.
"From my observation, Raymond, your health isn't as good as you think. You're in suboptimal health, aren't you?" David chuckled.
Raymond knew he was in suboptimal health. When he first joined The Hughes Group because of Margaret, he became Marlon's right-hand man.
Busy proving himself and climbing the ranks, and avoiding Margaret's intense gaze, he worked day and night. After Marlon's incident, The Hughes Group's board was in chaos.
Some even tried to stage a coup. He used his iron fist to quell the internal strife. Margaret couldn't manage the company, so the positions of chairman and CEO naturally fell to him.
During that time, he distanced himself from Margaret, working like a machine, constantly at The Hughes Group, busy day and night.
"Raymond, don't think I'm nagging, but when was the last time you had a full physical?"
He hadn't had one in years. He always thought he was in good health.
"Make time for a check-up. It'll give you peace of mind."
"Mr. Jones, please take care of Margaret's surgery. I'll get a check-up after donating my liver."
"Your risk is no less than Ms. Hughes'. Have you considered that you might die on the operating table?" David said, his face expressionless.
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