Chapter 436 Blood Spilled on Margaret's Notebook
Raymond's large, calloused hand finally picked up the orange-covered notebook from the table.
He opened it.
Inside, it read: [Life Countdown Record.]
The words hit him like a punch to the gut.
He gasped in pain.
The notebook he had bought for her was being used to record her countdown to death.
How desperate and heartbroken she must have been.
His pale fingers continued to turn the pages.
[Life Countdown: 30 days. Today marks the one-year anniversary of my silent treatment with Raymond, and the day I was diagnosed with terminal liver cancer. The doctor said I only have a month to live. I called Raymond to come home, but he was busy taking wedding photos with Sarah. I asked Raymond a question today: Raymond, if I died, would you be sad? He said he would set off fireworks for days and nights to wish me a swift journey to heaven]
[Life Countdown: 23 days. I wanted to understand everything about Raymond, so I went to his hometown, Ironwood Lane, to investigate the truth about his parents' death. I saw their house, burned to ruins. The villagers said his parents were burned beyond recognition. I paid my respects. The police said the fire was caused by old wiring. Even though Raymond wants me dead, I hope he lives a long life.]
[Life Countdown: 21 days. I hope death's footsteps slow down, just a bit. My dying wishes: receive Ashley's voice recorder, uncover the truth about Raymond's parents' death, and see the little mute one last time.]
[Life Countdown: 15 days. I received Ashley's voice recorder. I was furious after listening to it and gave it to Raymond, but he smashed it.]
This entry seemed to be stained with Margaret's tears, making the ink slightly different from the rest.
So he had smashed the voice recorder Margaret gave him. She was so upset. If he had known, he would have listened to it. Now, it's too late.
[Life Countdown: 14 days. Raymond's parents were killed by Percy, sent by my father. My father set the fire. No wonder he hates me so much. I understand him, I empathize with him. If possible, I hope Raymond can find some happiness.]
Raymond's eyes reddened instantly.
His nose stung with an overwhelming bitterness.
His tears fell onto the words [hope Raymond can find some happiness.]
Back then, he hated her so much.
He wanted to strangle her with his own hands.
He plotted his revenge, forced her to get pregnant, envied the dead mute child, made her sign unfair contracts, and forced her to kneel in front of The Hughes Group building.
He shattered her pride into pieces.
He made her work as a janitor at The Hughes Group, with five times the workload of a normal janitor.
She couldn't leave until she finished, couldn't eat until she was done.
After work, she had to come home and be his maid, cook for him, sleep with him.
He forced her to take medicine.
She vomited blood in front of him so many times!
She even showed him her medical records.
But he refused to believe it.
After all the horrible things he did, Margaret didn't blame him, didn't resent him. She just wrote: [hope Raymond can find some happiness.]
She could empathize with him, understand him.
What a fool.
Raymond held back his sorrow, took a deep breath, and looked out the window.
Outside, the snow was falling heavily, with no sign of stopping.
He wiped the tears from his face with his rough fingers and continued to flip through the notebook.
The rest of the pages were blank.
No matter how much he flipped, there were no more entries.
Why did she stop writing?
Was she afraid he would see it after she died?
Or was she so tormented by his abuse that she couldn't continue?
She had sacrificed everything for The Hughes Family, lost her pride, her dignity.
In the end, her parents still passed away.
How could she have the heart to keep writing?
Even if she did, it would probably be to curse him.
But Raymond wasn't ready to give up.
She left so abruptly, without a single word for him.
He couldn't believe the notebook would have nothing.
His fingers kept flipping through the pages.
The notebook was cheap, poorly made.
Maybe he was too anxious, maybe the notebook was too flimsy.
A sharp corner suddenly jabbed into his fingertip, and blood instantly welled up from the cut.
His handsome brows furrowed, he endured the pain and kept flipping.
Still nothing.
'Margaret, how could you be so heartless? You left without a single word for me? Do you hate me that much? Blame me that much?' Raymond thought and his heart ached.
The more he flipped, the more his hope faded.
He reached the last page of the notebook.
Raymond's pupils contracted sharply.
[Life Countdown: 0 days.]
The ink was still fresh, probably written just before she died.
Raymond's heart leapt.
Was this Margaret's final message to him?
She did leave him a message after all.
He knew it, Margaret couldn't be that heartless.
Raymond's lips curled into a slight smile.
How pathetic, he had fallen to the point where he needed to read a dead woman's diary to remember her.
If he had cherished her while she was alive, things wouldn't have turned out this way.
[Let Raymond lose Margaret. Final wish: I hope Raymond lives a long life, healthy and safe, never dying, living in loneliness and despair.]
Raymond saw the short line, and tears filled his eyes, streaming uncontrollably down his face and falling onto the final wish.
He wondered, 'Margaret, you fool. Even on your deathbed, you couldn't bring yourself to hate me? Your final wish was for me to live a long, healthy life. But you never understood Raymond, not at all. You had become a part of me, more important than life itself. I was planning our future, ready to donate my liver, to be with you in surgery. Even if I had a terminal illness, I would still plan for you. But you didn't understand me, you were always planning to leave. We were married, but our thoughts were always at odds. Don't you know, without Margaret, I won't be healthy, I won't be happy. I won't live forever. Why couldn't you be more patient? If you had waited a little longer, you would have seen Raymond die. Margaret, you don't know, I have late-stage leukemia. You didn't have to die.'
Tears fell uncontrollably, and Raymond's heart grew heavier with sorrow.
The notebook slipped from his hand.
Overwhelmed with grief, he collapsed, a mouthful of blood splattering onto the final countdown page.
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