Chapter 46 Did Wearing Them During Sex Made Him More Thrilling and More Satisfying?
Margaret thought she was trippin'. How could he be here?
Wasn't he supposed to be busy showering and getting it on with Sarah?
She blinked her dry eyes.
Those shoes were definitely Raymond's.
He cheated on her and still had the nerve to wear the wedding gift she gave him.
Did wearing them during sex make it more exciting for him?
Margaret kicked off her snow boots.
They were soaked with melted snow.
Her toes were all swollen.
She trudged through the entrance to the living room.
There was Raymond, all buff, in a vest, white shirt, and black tie, just lounging on the sofa.
His fingers were long and prettier than a woman's.
He was tapping the armrest of the sofa like he didn't have a care in the world.
He was wearing the gray cotton slippers from the hotel.
Margaret curled her lips and sneered, "Mr. Howard, aren't you busy expanding your empire? How do you have time to see me?"
Sarah said he wished she would just drop dead. So why was he here?
After finishing with Sarah, he left her to come here, and Sarah didn't mind?
Raymond raised his eyes coldly and glanced at the tea set on the table. "Make tea."
Margaret plopped down on the sofa, deliberately far from him. "If you want tea, go ask Sarah."
Raymond's frown deepened, and he gave a cold smile. "Margaret, I just dropped a million bucks for Marlon's surgery, and you turn your back on me so quick? Like father, like daughter."
In just a few words, Margaret got the message.
He was using Marlon to threaten her.
Margaret got up from the sofa, her feet killing her, and limped over to pick up the tea set, making tea for him step by step.
Raymond's phone rang, and he went to the bedroom to take the call.
Two minutes later, Raymond came back to the sofa and looked at the empty teacup. "Pour the tea."
Margaret held back her anger and poured a cup of tea, just about to hand it to him.
His cold voice suddenly cut through the air, without any emotion or warmth. "Pour it again."
Margaret poured out the tea and poured another cup.
He made her pour it again, over and over, several times.
Margaret couldn't take it anymore and slammed the teacup on the table. "Raymond, what the hell? I've already poured tea for you. Why so picky?"
Raymond's tone was casual but left no room for argument. "You think you're still the princess of The Hughes family? Pour it again!"
Margaret laughed in anger. Yeah, she wasn't the high and mighty princess of The Hughes family anymore.
She got it, but she still felt wronged and pissed off.
When she was fighting for her life, he watched coldly, busy getting it on with Sarah.
After barely dodging death, he showed up just to rub it in, reminding her how far she'd fallen.
Her eyes felt dry and scratchy, her nose hurt, and her heart was full of bitterness, tears threatening to spill.
Margaret was too proud to cry in front of Raymond. She forced the tears back.
Raymond's cold lips moved, hitting her where it hurt. "Or do you want me to call Nancy and have her tell you herself?"
Margaret's anger exploded. She glared at him and snapped, "Raymond, besides threatening me with my family and my dad, what else can you do? Do you even know what I just went through? I almost got hit by a car, almost died! I came to this godforsaken place to find the truth! I went to your parents' grave. I went to your old house, not knowing a soul. As a woman, is that easy for me?"
She had too much pent-up frustration. Margaret's tears finally broke free, streaming down as she cried out in despair, "Raymond, I'm your wife! Why don't you care about me? You come here and don't even ask what just happened to me? Whether I'm scared or not?"
She continued, "I get it, I think you've had it rough, losing your parents in a fire when you were young. I understand your hostility towards me, but I believe there's a misunderstanding. I can find out the truth and give you an explanation. But why can't you care for me like I care for you?"
Margaret cried in despair and helplessness, "I'm a woman; I also want to be loved and cared for by my husband like other women. Your parents died because of old wiring, why can't you see that reality?"
Raymond said nothing, just looked at her coldly.
The contrast was stark, and it was ironic.
Margaret cried helplessly, covering her face with her arm. "Even if it was intentional, you should tell me clearly what happened. Or give me time to find out, instead of watching me break down and suffer, indifferent."
She poured her heart out, said a lot, but got no concern, no warm look, no strong hug from him.
Raymond looked at her with a complex expression for a long time before coldly saying, "Are you done?"
His face was blank, his tone as cold as the heavy snow outside, making her feel suffocated.
Margaret nodded. "Done."
Raymond sneered, "You think saying a bunch of nonsense means you don't have to pour the tea?"
Margaret looked at his smirk and laughed bitterly.
How ridiculous! He was just a scumbag; why did she still hope he could empathize with her?
She knew if her attitude was bad, he would keep tormenting her endlessly.
So, she wiped away her tears, picked up the teapot, and poured another cup of tea.
Respectfully, she handed it to him.
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