Chapter 396 You Can Cry, I Won't Laugh at You
It was like he was talking to himself, or maybe to Margaret.
Or maybe both.
Raymond used to be like a porcupine, all spikes and no softness, keeping everyone away from his loveless heart. He drowned himself in hatred.
He convinced himself that his life had one purpose: revenge.
Happiness? That word didn’t exist in his world.
But now, he wanted to shed those spikes, one by one, and show her his scarred heart.
"Raymond, your childhood must've been really rough, huh?"
Raymond's face froze for a moment, his handsome brows knitting together. Rough? That was putting it mildly. Looking back on his thirty years, he couldn't remember a single moment of true happiness.
The only time he felt anything close to happiness was in college when she chased after him with such pure, passionate love. But he had his own agenda, so he never let himself feel the warmth.
Back then, he was conflicted and torn, drawn to Margaret but forcing himself to hate her.
When Marlon fell down the stairs and had a stroke, The Hughes Group fell into his hands, and it was torture for him. He couldn't lie to himself anymore.
While he tormented her, his own heart suffered. He protected her in secret, not wanting her to know, all the while saying heartless things he didn't mean. Those words weren't for her; they were for himself, to force himself not to love Margaret.
The colder Margaret was to him, the easier it was to seek revenge.
Seeing him deep in thought, she bit her lip. "I didn't mean to bring up painful memories. If you don't want to talk about it, you don't have to."
Everyone has secrets, even spouses.
Margaret respected that.
His long fingers held hers tightly, their fingers intertwined.
He spoke in a low voice, "Do you want to hear my story?"
"Yes." She wanted to know everything about him.
Margaret had always been like this, eager to uncover his past, but he had always been vague, refusing to let her in.
He didn't want to show her his wounds.
Now, he was willing. Because spouses should be honest.
Raymond squeezed her fingertips. "When I was really young, my dad opened a small restaurant. I didn't have a childhood. From elementary school, I helped out in the restaurant—wiping tables, sweeping the floor, serving food, handling money. My dad was a great cook, and we had lots of customers. My mom was frugal and managed the household well. It was just the three of us."
"My dad pinned all his hopes on me. He wanted me to be more successful than him, so I had endless homework. Every time I didn't come first in an exam, I'd get beaten. As a kid, I hated him. He hit me hard every time. He said it was better for him to beat me than for me to be unsuccessful and get taught a lesson by society later."
"Margaret, you know what? Under that harsh discipline, I was always the top student. But my parents never smiled at me. They smiled at relatives' kids who did much worse in school. In my memory, they never praised me once. The most they said was, 'What's so great about being first? Pride leads to downfall. You need to stay humble.'"
Raymond's nose tingled, and he paused, unable to continue.
He had always longed for his parents' praise. He had no childhood. While other kids his age were at amusement parks, playing on seesaws, taking pictures, and going on outings, he was always wiping tables, serving food, and collecting dishes. His hands, which should have been soft and tender, were calloused early on. Customers said his dad was a good man, but his dad was only like that to others. To him, his dad was strict.
Customers praised his father's cooking, but he never got to eat it. The dishes he wanted were always sold to customers.
As a child, he loved sandwiches, but they were always sold out.
He hated noodles, but for years, that's all he ate.
Teachers asked his parents to attend parent-teacher meetings, but they were always too busy making money. They promised him they'd go, but they never did. All the other kids had their parents there.
His homeroom teacher was harsh, making him stand as punishment because his parents never showed up.
Even though he was the top student, the teacher favored the kids from wealthy families who did poorly.
Thinking about these old memories made Raymond's heart ache.
"So how did your parents die?" Margaret asked.
Raymond's gaze shifted to her, his eyes complex as he looked at her innocent, pure face.
If she hadn't lost her memory, he would have doubted she knew nothing.
Margaret noticed his change in expression and thought she had brought up something painful. "It's okay if you don't want to talk about it."
"There was a car accident, then a fire. They both died," Raymond murmured.
Raymond had thought he would feel nothing when his parents died, but he was wrong. Seeing his family gone, he was deeply affected.
"Were they killed by enemies?"
"Yes. My mom hid me under the bed to protect me. My dad pushed me out of the burning house to save me. I watched them burn to death. It was then I realized they did love me. They just didn't know how to show it. If it weren't for that fire, I wouldn't have known how much they loved me."
That's why he became obsessed with revenge after their deaths.
His parents, who gave their lives for him, deserved that.
His parents might not have made him breakfast, but they would have taken a bullet for him.
"And the enemies?"
"Dead."
"Did you kill them?" Margaret asked again.
Raymond looked at her. "Do you think I'm a dark person?"
Margaret held his hands, exhaling softly. "Raymond, don't be so sensitive. If I were you, I would have done the same. If my parents were killed and I did nothing, how would I be any different from a beast?"
"Really?" Raymond's eyes reddened instantly.
Margaret nodded.
She was pulled into a tight embrace. The post-amnesia Margaret was so understanding, it felt unreal. Raymond had longed for her empathy and understanding.
He thought he'd never get it.
But he did.
Even though she had to lose her memory to comfort him like this, it still touched the softest part of his heart.
Margaret felt the warm liquid on her cheek. She looked up to see Raymond's eyes red, tears streaming down his handsome face.
"Raymond, it's okay to cry. I won't laugh at you."
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