Chapter 497 Raymond is Bleeding
Margaret had been fighting sleep for a long time, but she finally gave in. When Raymond pulled away, he saw her eyes closed, already deep in slumber.
Though she hadn't forgiven him, the fact that he could be by her side and share such intimate moments was more than he could have hoped for.
He carefully got out of bed, not wanting to disturb her light sleep. Gently, he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bathroom.
The bathroom was tiny, barely enough space to move around. Raymond was dissatisfied with her current living conditions. Margaret, who had always been pampered, deserved to be back in a villa with a garden.
She had ended up here because of him, and he felt a deep sense of guilt. He filled the bathtub with warm water, tested the temperature with his hand, and then placed Margaret in it, meticulously washing her.
Afterwards, he dried her with a soft, white towel and used the hairdryer on its lowest setting to dry her hair. He then carried her back to bed.
As he lay down beside her, Margaret, still half-asleep, snuggled into his arms, seeking the warmth she loved so much. Her slender leg draped over him, making Raymond feel like a giant human doll being held by her.
Despite their earlier intimacy, her actions stirred new desires in him. He gently moved her leg back onto the bed, but she immediately clung to him again, more forcefully this time, her lips brushing against his throat, her breath warm on his neck.
Raymond took a deep breath, his hand tensing. He wondered if she was punishing him on purpose, making him suffer by being so close yet out of reach.
"Raymond, don't leave me again," she murmured, her voice tinged with a pleading tone, as if she were having a nightmare.
Raymond held her tighter, kissing her forehead softly. "I won't leave," he whispered. This time, he vowed, nothing would tear them apart.
Morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, waking Margaret. She shielded her eyes from the light and turned to see Raymond beside her. They were both naked, and memories of the previous night flooded back, making her feel both embarrassed and angry. She had intended to push him away, not end up in bed with him.
Trying to mask her emotions, she sat up and put on a white shirt from beside the pillow, buttoning it up. "If you're awake, you should leave. I'm not keeping you here," she said coolly.
Raymond's voice, filled with mock hurt, came from behind her. "We made love last night, and you don't plan to take responsibility?"
Her fingers paused on the buttons, but she forced herself to stay composed. "We're adults. It was consensual. There's no need for this, Raymond."
"Margaret, I'm sick. Can't you let me stay?" he pleaded, his eyes red and his expression pained, as if her rejection was breaking him.
His acting was impressive, seamlessly switching from cold and indifferent to wounded and vulnerable. She smirked. "Raymond, stop. This is your retribution."
"Everyone makes mistakes, honey. Can't you give me a chance to make things right? I need you to take me to the hospital," he said, grabbing her arm.
Margaret pulled away. "I'm not going."
"Then neither am I."
"Raymond, stop being ridiculous. You have leukemia. You need treatment," she snapped, exasperated by his stubbornness.
Raymond shrugged. "You don't care about me anyway. What's the point of getting better? I'd rather die than watch you with Daniel."
"What did you say?"
"I've decided not to treat it," he said, looking at her with a broken expression. "I hurt you so much, and now this is my fate. Just arrange my funeral when I'm gone."
Margaret, fed up, got dressed and left the room. "Do whatever you want."
She went to the kitchen to make porridge, reminding herself that this was just another one of his tricks. He would leave on his own and get treatment eventually.
The porridge was ready, but Raymond hadn't come out of the bathroom. Worried, she knocked on the door. No response. The door wasn't locked, so she pushed it open.
"Time to eat. What are you doing?" she asked, but then she saw him, pale and weak, wearing a woman's nightgown, blood dripping from his nose.
Margaret was stunned for a moment, then grabbed his wrist and led him out of the bathroom. Raymond smiled faintly, unnoticed by her.
She sat him on the couch and found some medicine left by Rufus. "Take your medicine," she ordered, handing him a glass of warm water.
Raymond hadn't even spoken when she called Alvin. "Alvin, bring Raymond some clothes and take him to the hospital."
"Mrs. Howard, Mr. Howard is willing to go? You really have a way with him," Alvin said, clearly relieved.
Margaret wanted to argue that she wasn't doing this out of concern, but she hung up instead. When she turned back, Raymond was staring at her, expressionless.
She noticed the untouched water and medicine, her anger flaring. "Why haven't you taken your medicine? Do you need me to feed it to you?"
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