Chapter 395: He Desires to Be Loved More Than Anyone
Raymond's heart tightened as he gazed into her tear-filled eyes, feeling like a swarm of bees was attacking his chest.
He didn't want her to worry, and he definitely didn't want her to feel guilty. Raymond couldn't bear the thought that her feelings for him might be mixed with gratitude.
With his rough fingers, he tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "Nah, this scar's been here forever. You just forgot."
Margaret's nose tingled with emotion as she looked at him. "Really?"
"Really."
"How did it happen?" Margaret's fingers traced the scar, her voice shaky.
Raymond paused, then lied, "Got into a fight when I was a kid. The other guy had a knife."
It was a knife wound, and this was the only way he could cover it up.
"That must've hurt a lot, huh?" Margaret's heart ached as she looked at the scar, her eyes welling up. "Why were you so reckless, getting into fights?"
Being cared for by Margaret felt so warm, so sweet.
Margaret looked up to see Raymond grinning. She frowned. "How can you still smile?"
"I'm happy because you care about me," Raymond said with a smile.
Margaret said, "From now on, no more dangerous stuff."
"Okay."
"Raymond, you have to remember, always remember, you have a family now, you have a wife! You can't be so impulsive, and no more fighting! Let Alvin drive you when you go out! This kind of thing can only happen once, no more—" Margaret's eyes reddened, her voice choked with emotion. "I don't have my parents anymore, Raymond. You're my only family. I can't let anything happen to you. I don't need the backup plans or the money you leave me. I just need you, safe and sound, living a long, healthy life."
Raymond reached out with his rough hand, wiping her tears away haphazardly, his own eyes reddening, his heart melting.
"From now on, you need to take care of yourself. No more working yourself to death."
"If I don't work, how will I support you?"
"Raymond, you're a person, not a machine. Even machines need rest."
Raymond continued to wipe her tears.
But she kept crying, her nose red, her voice trembling. "You're so tired, it breaks my heart. We're both orphans, I need to take better care of you. You need someone to care for you too."
These were words Raymond had never heard before, and they were truly touching.
Even someone as calm, rational, and restrained as he was felt his defenses crumbling bit by bit.
Margaret opened her mouth to say something more, but her face was cupped by his large hands.
She was pressed against the steamy bathroom wall, her lips captured by his in a dominant, forceful kiss.
Their breathing grew heavier, and as her body was turned, Margaret once again endured the storm.
Afterward.
Raymond washed her clean, dried her off, wrapped her in a towel, and carried her back to bed. The temperature was just right, the perfect temperature, as he always remembered she was sensitive to the cold.
He dried her hair.
He pulled her into the covers, Raymond's large hand drawing her to rest her head on his arm. Margaret's hair carried a faint, pleasant scent.
Logically, with the girl he loved lying in his arms, looking at him with starry eyes, he should have felt at ease.
But Raymond's heart was still inexplicably uneasy, as if something was going to happen.
He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but something felt off. Margaret's surgery had been successful, and she had lost her memory. They were back to how things used to be.
Thinking of this, Raymond held Margaret tighter. Before she lost her memory, he had wanted to hold her like this, to embrace her, but she was always confrontational, or cold and sharp-tongued, the atmosphere always tense.
Now, they finally felt like a married couple.
"Margaret, promise me something."
Hearing his voice, Margaret, who was leaning against his chest, looked up, her fingers playing with his nose.
"If one day you find out I did something wrong, you can't be mad."
"What did you do wrong?" Margaret looked at him gently.
Raymond stroked her cheek, her skin feeling so good. His eyes narrowed, his gaze complicated.
Margaret seemed to think of something. "Didn't you have something to tell me? Did you lie to me?"
This question brought a bitter smile to his lips.
What hadn't he lied about?
Her parents' death, their not being orphans from the same village, not childhood sweethearts. She was the daughter of the Hughes Family, how could she be an orphan from the village?
Her parents had died recently, not when she was a child.
She became an orphan because of him.
These were all bombs buried between them, any of which could explode at any time.
Raymond truly felt that his current happiness was stolen, deceived.
Even if his intentions were good.
Before the surgery, he hadn't been so afraid of her remembering something, but now that he had tasted love, tasted happiness.
He didn't want to go back to the way things were. The old him was too numb, too cold, just a machine bent on revenge.
So he was very scared. Ever since she had that fragmented dream, he had been worried, worried that the happiness he had in his grasp would shatter at any moment, becoming nothing but a dream.
"Margaret, I love you," Raymond's hoarse voice suddenly broke the silence.
She hadn't had time to react before his gentle kiss landed on her forehead.
"I'd go crazy without you by my side," Raymond murmured.
Margaret blushed. "We've been married so long, and you're still so cheesy."
"Margaret, I used to think I couldn't say these cheesy things. But now I don't think that anymore. If I like you, I should say it. How else would you know? Not only will I say it now, but I'll say it every day. Margaret, I love you."
"How much do you love me?"
"A lot, a lot. From the moment I first saw you."
Back then, he had restrained his feelings, not allowing himself to fall for the daughter of his enemy. If she hadn't been the daughter of his enemy, he would have cherished her, made her the happiest woman in the world.
Luckily, he had stopped in time.
For the rest of his life, he would make it up to her, love her as passionately as she had once loved him.
Margaret was deeply moved by his words, because in her understanding, it was a different story. She was a village orphan with nothing, her first love and childhood sweetheart.
She got sick, and he stayed by her side. What more could you ask for in a husband?
Margaret held back her tears, confined in his embrace. "Raymond is very lonely, lonelier than anyone, longing for love. Margaret, Raymond only has you left."
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