Chapter 425 No Intention of Opening Eyes from Beginning to End
Raymond's mind went completely blank.
He rushed forward, his long legs moving swiftly in his black dress pants.
"Margaret! Margaret!" Raymond half-knelt, lifting Margaret from the pool of blood she was lying in.
Margaret was wearing a down jacket, her face delicately made up, but the makeup was now smeared with bright red blood.
Blood was flowing from the back of her head, staining his hands.
Her eyes were tightly shut, and her lips were closed.
But the crimson blood kept gushing out, spreading uncontrollably.
"Margaret...Margaret..." Raymond reached out, shaking her gently.
But she showed no sign of waking up.
"Where's the ambulance? Where's the ambulance?" Raymond glared at the onlookers, shouting angrily.
Normally, Raymond was composed, never panicking even in chaotic situations. But now, he was utterly frantic.
"Mr. Howard, the ambulance is on its way, but it hasn't arrived yet," the security guard explained nervously, intimidated by Raymond's fierce gaze.
Raymond knelt on one knee, lifting Margaret from the ground and holding her tightly in his arms.
"Get the car, we're taking Margaret to the hospital," Raymond ordered Alvin.
Alvin quickly ran ahead to start the car.
Raymond held Margaret close, feeling how light she was despite her thick clothing. It was as if something was slipping away.
He desperately wanted to hold on, but fate was cruel. The more he tried to grasp, the faster he lost—his marriage, his happiness, his beloved Margaret...
Raymond's face was tense, her blood dripping from his broad hands onto the thick snow.
Alvin opened the car door, and Raymond carefully placed her in the back seat before getting in himself.
The door closed quickly.
Alvin got into the driver's seat and sped off as fast as he could.
Raymond placed his hand on her forehead, feeling the coldness as her warmth faded.
He was completely terrified.
"Margaret... Margaret... Margaret, wake up..." Raymond tried shaking her, calling her name.
But Margaret remained unresponsive, as if in a deep sleep.
Raymond's heart ached. How did it come to this?
Everything had seemed fine when he left.
She had eaten the soup he fed her, saying she wanted to remember his face, not forget it.
He had thought it was a sign she wanted to make peace.
But it was a prelude to her jumping.
If he had known she felt this way, he wouldn't have left her side, no matter how much she hit or cursed him.
"Margaret, didn't you say you wanted to see me die? How can you see it if you do this?" Raymond's eyes reddened.
He thought, 'Margaret, do you know? I have leukemia. I only have a few months left. Why couldn't you wait a little longer? It's my fault! I should have shown you my medical records sooner. If you knew I was dying, you would have been happy, and this wouldn't have happened.'
His heart ached unbearably.
"Drive faster!" Raymond shouted at Alvin, his eyes red with desperation.
Alvin had already pushed the car to its limit, but he understood Raymond's urgency. No one knew better than him how much Raymond cared for Margaret.
The car screeched to a halt at the hospital entrance.
A stretcher was quickly brought out, and Margaret was rushed to the operating room.
Hubert, in his uniform, stood respectfully at the door, checking Margaret's condition. His expression was grave. "Mrs. Howard is in critical condition. We need to act fast."
"Do whatever it takes to save Margaret," Raymond demanded, his voice firm.
Hubert nodded. "Of course, Mr. Howard. We'll do everything we can."
He instructed the nurses to open the operating room doors.
Margaret was wheeled inside on the stretcher.
"Mr. Howard, don't worry. Mrs. Howard will be fine," Hubert reassured him before following her into the operating room and closing the door.
The operating room light came on.
Raymond's hands trembled with anxiety as he paced the hallway outside.
He pulled out a cigarette, his usual way to relieve stress, but the lighter wouldn't work, as if mocking him.
Frustrated, Raymond threw the lighter into the trash.
He snapped the cigarette in half and tossed it in as well.
His tie felt like it was choking him, and he loosened it, feeling a warm liquid under his nose.
He wiped it with the back of his hand, seeing blood. He couldn't tell if it was his or Margaret's.
Or maybe their blood had already mingled, indistinguishable.
Alvin hurried out of the elevator, surprised to see Raymond. "Mr. Howard, you're bleeding..."
Raymond quickly went to the restroom, turning on the cold water. He watched the blood drip into the sink.
He washed his hands indifferently, then dried them with a paper towel.
"Mr. Howard, are you okay?" Alvin asked, worried.
"I'm fine," Raymond replied.
For now, at least.
"Mr. Howard, since we're at the hospital, why don't you get checked out too? Your health is important. Mrs. Howard would be upset if she woke up and saw you unwell."
Raymond looked down, hiding the bitterness in his eyes. She wouldn't be upset. She didn't want to suffer with him anymore, choosing this extreme way to leave.
If she knew about his illness, she'd say it was his karma.
But he'd rather it be his karma, dying from a terminal illness, than losing Margaret. He always wanted her to live well.
That was why he gave her the amnesia shot, why he gave her a liver transplant.
But it still came to this.
"Mr. Howard!" Alvin urged him to take care of himself.
Raymond's face was pale, and he glared at Alvin. "I know my own body. I don't need you to remind me."
"Mr. Howard..." Alvin wanted to say more.
Raymond softened his tone, looking away. "Don't worry, I won't die just yet."
He used the word "yet."
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