Chapter 418 His Affection is Imprisonment, Losing Freedom
Raymond opened the passenger door and slid into the seat, turning to fasten his seatbelt.
What he didn't know was that Sarah was sneakily snapping a picture of his hand with her phone and sending it to Margaret on WhatsApp. She typed a message dripping with sarcasm: "Margaret, your husband's car broke down, so I'm giving him a ride home. No need to thank me."
"Oh, and he said I look even more beautiful after my cosmetic surgery."
Raymond finished buckling up and glanced over. Sarah quickly turned off her phone, started the car, and drove towards his apartment.
"I heard Margaret was kidnapped by your business partner a few days ago?" Sarah tried to make conversation.
Raymond responded curtly, clearly keeping his distance. He didn't even look at her.
Sarah pressed on, "Is Margaret okay?"
"Do you want her to be in trouble?" Raymond's eyes bore into her with a meaningful look.
She forced a smile, "Of course not. I want you to be happy. I can see you're trying to keep your distance from me, afraid Margaret might misunderstand. I'll stop talking."
Raymond didn't respond. His phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and answered.
"Mr. Howard, I'm here. I see the car but not you."
"I ran into Sarah. I'm catching a ride with her," Raymond said coldly.
Alvin sighed on the other end, "Mr. Raymond Howard, you're having issues with Mrs. Margaret Howard, and you decide to ride with Ms. Martinez? You should have waited for me. If Mrs. Margaret Howard finds out, there's no explaining this."
"She won't find out."
Alvin was speechless, silently lighting a candle for Raymond, hoping Margaret never finds out, or it would be a disaster.
At the apartment entrance, the car stopped. Raymond unbuckled his seatbelt, opened the door, and got out. He walked briskly into the building, his long legs covered by his dress pants. He was worried about Margaret, afraid something might have happened to her.
At that moment, Margaret was sitting on the couch, staring intently at her phone's WhatsApp messages. The chat was from Sarah, sent ten minutes ago. Two short sentences and a photo of Raymond's hand in the car. She had been looking at it for ten minutes.
The car wasn't Raymond's. She recognized the Bentley's interior. And he was in the passenger seat. She knew his hand well; there was no mistaking it. The man in the photo was Raymond. She couldn't deceive herself any longer.
Margaret stared at the photo, trying to see through it. She didn't respond to Sarah's provocation. It was so ironic, such a performance, truly despicable. Pretending to love her while cheating behind her back, that was Raymond. Acting like he cared for her, bringing Mary to take care of her, cooking for her. And still entangled with Sarah.
They had even taken wedding photos together. It made sense they were still involved. If she remembered correctly, Sarah had once said she had an abortion for Raymond. Sarah's ruined face had been repaired.
And he had complimented her, saying she looked beautiful.
Did that mean they were getting married?
Was she just an obstacle to Raymond and Sarah's happiness?
Thinking about all this mess, Margaret felt suffocated with frustration. She wanted to throw her phone, scream, curse, hit something. But in this empty apartment, it was just her and Mary. She couldn't take out her negative emotions on Mary. Mary was innocent.
Margaret thought about how foolish she had been and wanted to slap herself. She had lost her memory and fallen for her enemy again! He deserved to die, and she should have wished for his death, yet she had risked her life to go to the chapel on Everpeak Mountain, braving the cold and heavy snow. She had knelt and prayed five thousand five hundred and fifty-five times. Her limbs were freezing, her body cold. The snowy mountain path was so slippery, so steep. She had fallen again and again. Covered in injuries, she still prayed for him. She had even thought if he didn't wake up, she would die with him. Wasn't this foolishness? Wasn't she being played for a fool?
Margaret's anger was about to explode. On top of that, she had been sleepless for days, learning that Marlon wasn't the one who killed Raymond. She was more sensitive, her insomnia worsening.
"Ms. Hughes, are you okay?" Mary came out of the kitchen, worried, seeing Margaret staring at her phone for over ten minutes. And her aura was off.
Margaret turned off her phone, "I'm fine."
"But you look pale," Mary said, concerned. "If you're not feeling well, you should tell me. I'll call a doctor."
Mary's words eased Margaret's frustration a bit. Mary was a middle-aged woman but always brought warmth. Margaret had once loved Mary's soups. They tasted like home.
"I'm fine."
"Ms. Hughes, I made your favorite soup. Would you like a bowl while it's hot? See if my cooking has improved?"
Mary wanted her to eat.
Margaret smiled wearily, "I'm not hungry, and I have no appetite."
"But—" Mary tried to persuade her.
"Raymond, you jerk! Raymond, you idiot! Raymond, you're not human!" A shrill voice came from the balcony, sounding a lot like her.
She looked at Mary, who smiled, "Ms. Hughes, why don't you check the balcony? It might lift your spirits."
Margaret got up, and Mary opened the balcony door for her. She stepped outside. In the cage stood a parrot with shiny black feathers, watching her as she watched it, cursing Raymond.
"How is it here?" Margaret was surprised. She remembered setting the parrot free.
Mary explained, "Mr. Howard said it flew back the day you were kidnapped. It must have missed you and returned."
"Mr. Howard knew you loved this parrot, so he caged it." Mary meant to speak well of Raymond.
Margaret heard something else, a mocking smile on her face, "So his idea of love is to cage it, take away its freedom, for his amusement."
The parrot was like her.
"Ms. Hughes, I'm not good with words," Mary quickly explained.
Margaret didn't blame her, "Get the feed. I'll feed it."
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