Chapter 414 Seeing You Makes Me Sick
How could she be happy?
He was dead, and her parents were gone too.
The Hughes Family would never be the same again.
Her heart was shattered into a thousand pieces.
His death didn't change anything.
The situation was beyond repair.
But Margaret was furious. She felt her parents' wrongful deaths were in vain, and she couldn't get over the downfall of The Hughes Family.
She had no idea about Raymond's current health condition, so her words were like daggers to his heart: "Of course. So, Raymond, just go die already!"
Then she stormed back to the bedroom and slammed the door.
Raymond stood there, stunned, feeling like he had a lump in his throat, his eyes red with unshed tears.
He sat on the couch, pulled out a cigarette, and placed it between his thin lips.
He lit it with a lighter, but today's smoke was harsh and made him uncomfortable.
He coughed repeatedly.
As he coughed, tears began to fall.
He didn't know if it was because he didn't have much time left, or if the cigarette was too harsh, or if it was Margaret's words, "So, Raymond, just go die already," that caused it.
Being cursed by the one you love was excruciating.
It was like a dull knife cutting into his already bleeding heart, over and over again.
Once, he had cursed her the same way.
She had asked him, "Raymond, if one day you found out you had lost Margaret forever, would you cry?"
"Would you show up at the funeral?"
He had responded cruelly, saying he would set off fireworks for days and nights to celebrate her departure to the afterlife.
He had watched coldly as she cried in anger.
Now those words had come back to haunt him like a boomerang, piercing him deeply.
Raymond, if you had known it would come to this, why did you act that way in the first place?
If you loved her so much, why couldn't you let go of your hatred and treat her well?
This was karma, the retribution fate had in store for him.
His phone buzzed with a message from Rufus: "Mr. Raymond Howard, have you and Mrs. Margaret Howard discussed when you plan to start your treatment?"
Discussed? They hadn't discussed anything.
On his way back, he had hoped that once she knew about his illness, she would pity him and stay by his side through the treatment, just as he had stayed by her side, never leaving.
On his way back, he had even bought her favorite dishes.
But this was the result.
She hadn't taken a single bite, hadn't even looked at the food.
When he mentioned dying, all he got was a dismissive, "Raymond, just go die already, stop playing the victim."
Despite everything, Raymond couldn't let go of Margaret.
If he went for treatment, he couldn't leave Margaret alone with her severe psychological issues.
What if she did something extreme?
"Let's wait a bit longer," Raymond replied.
He wanted to wait until Margaret's mental health improved before he could feel at ease to start his treatment.
But Raymond didn't know that fate had other plans. He would never see the day Margaret got better. She would only drift further away from him.
Eventually, she would jump from the balcony.
Dying in the pale snow.
And he, standing before her lifeless body, would turn gray overnight.
This was fate; no one could escape it.
Not even Raymond, with all his power, could resist the cruel hand of fate.
Raymond didn't sleep all night. He couldn't, so he sat on the couch, smoking one cigarette after another.
The parrot in its cage hopped around, seemingly singing a dirge: "Raymond, ungrateful! Raymond, go die! Raymond, Margaret doesn't love you anymore! Raymond, stop playing the victim!"
Each time he heard it, his heart grew heavier.
He didn't know how much Margaret must have hated him to say so many bad things about him in front of the parrot.
Raymond took the cage and hung it outside on the balcony, out of earshot.
The next morning.
Raymond washed his hands and made her favorite, most soothing porridge, bringing it to the bedroom and placing it in front of her.
Clearly, Margaret had also stayed up all night, curled up at the foot of the bed.
Her eyes were dark with exhaustion.
Margaret's sleep had been getting worse, and her temper was uncontrollably volatile.
Her mind was constantly haunted by the image of Marlon falling to his death from the balcony or Nancy lying in the snow.
Percy's words echoed in her ears, that Marlon's tragic death was meticulously planned by Raymond.
And she, like a fool, knew nothing. At that time, she was working as a cleaner at The Hughes Group, acting as his maid, being used by him.
She didn't even dare to breathe loudly, afraid of angering him.
He had long wanted to drive Marlon to death, yet he deliberately gave her hope, made her sign unfair contracts, made her cook for him, and kept her around for his amusement.
Margaret had been lost in thought all night, so she didn't notice Raymond entering her room.
It wasn't until Raymond called her name that she lifelessly lifted her eyelids, seeing him patiently holding out a spoon to her: "Margaret, eat."
"You think doing this will absolve you of your sins?" Margaret sneered.
Raymond sighed: "Margaret, I'm doing this because I love you. Not to absolve sins. I don't believe I have any sins to absolve."
What an act.
"Don't talk about love, it makes me sick," Margaret scoffed, looking at him coldly.
Raymond tightened his grip on the spoon handle. Did she really find his love disgusting?
The Margaret of the past had longed for his care, for his passionate love.
How did it become disgusting?
"Margaret, can't we coexist peacefully? Do we have to keep hurting each other? Torturing each other?" Raymond's lips twitched into a bitter smile.
Margaret replied coldly, "No."
No peaceful coexistence...
It was all his delusion.
Even if he didn't have much time left.
"Didn't you say you wanted to die yesterday? Why are you still alive?" Margaret smirked, changing the subject.
Raymond's eyelids twitched, his heart clenched by an invisible hand.
Was she really so eager for him to die?
Seeing his silence, Margaret continued: "Or were you just saying it? Of course, now that you've finally become a successful person, you wouldn't want to die. You probably want to live a long life. People who truly want to die don't say it out loud."
People who truly want to die don't say it out loud.
Raymond felt the air pressure in the room drop, making it hard to breathe, but he didn't want to waste his limited time on arguing.
"Drink the porridge before it gets cold," he said, trying to change the subject, giving her an out.
But she brought it back: "You want me to drink the porridge?"
"Then go die."
"Die, and I'll drink the porridge."
"Margaret, do you really need to curse your ex-husband like this?"
"Does it hurt? You did the same to me. I'm just returning the favor. Mr. Howard, why are you so upset? Mainly, seeing you makes me sick. I have no appetite."
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