Chapter 513 He Thought She Couldn't Let Go
Raymond slumped against the hospital bed, staring at his fingernails. He didn't buy it for a second, thinking the nurse was just trying to make him feel better.
"Nice try, but I'm not falling for it," he muttered, not even bothering to look up.
"Mr. Howard, it's really Ms. Hughes. She's actually here. See for yourself if you don't believe me," the male nurse said, his voice full of excitement.
Raymond couldn't help but lift his eyes and glance toward the door.
His eyes lit up instantly.
There stood Margaret, dressed in a white suit, her high heels clicking on the floor, holding a small black handbag. Her long hair was pinned up at the back of her head with a hair clip, and her makeup was flawless, giving her a professional look.
"This is crazy. I must be seeing things," he murmured.
"Mr. Howard, it's not an illusion. Ms. Hughes is really here," the nurse insisted, knowing how long Raymond had been waiting for her. He quickly left to give them some privacy, smiling at Margaret as he passed. " Ms. Hughes, Mr. Howard has been longing to see you. He even called your name when he was brought to the emergency room yesterday."
"I..." Margaret began, but the nurse had already left the room, thoughtfully closing the door behind him.
The sound of her high heels echoed on the floor, each step resonating in Raymond's heart.
Margaret walked toward him, her mind in a fog.
The warm yellow light from the ceiling cast a glow on his pale face, making him look even more frail.
He was weaker than the last time she saw him.
His once sharp features now seemed lifeless.
To Margaret, Raymond looked like a withered branch, devoid of any vitality.
She had never seen him like this before. He used to be so full of life and energy. It was shocking to see how close he was to death.
Even though they were divorced, they had been married for several years and had shared some happy moments. Seeing Raymond in such a pitiful state stirred complex emotions within her.
She realized that witnessing her former lover in such a broken state brought her no sense of vengeance.
She gripped the handle of her handbag tightly.
Raymond was also observing Margaret.
She was so different from the Margaret he used to know.
The old Margaret was like a delicate flower in a greenhouse, soft and fragile.
Now, she looked more mature, exuding the aura of a strong, independent woman.
He noticed her high heels again. He remembered she wore high heels the last time they met, even though her feet were injured. He wondered if her feet had healed.
Raymond wanted to ask, to show he cared.
But he knew it was pointless. Margaret didn't need his concern anymore.
He had nothing left, just a few days of life. She didn't need his well-wishes.
He didn't want to disgust her.
Raymond forced a smile, trying to appear nonchalant. "Don't listen to the nurse. My trip to the emergency room had nothing to do with you. I didn't call your name. I wasn't waiting for you."
His words hit Margaret like a slap in the face.
Margaret snapped back to reality, grateful she hadn't asked why he ended up in the emergency room. That would have been humiliating.
She remembered what Raymond had said a few days ago. He told her he wasn't interested in her anymore, that he only tried to comfort her to see how low she could go.
Her softened heart hardened again.
Margaret smirked. "I'm here to collect your body. What did you think?"
"Collect my body?" Raymond's eyes widened, his blood running cold. His heart ached.
He had thought she might still care for him, that she had softened.
Margaret scoffed. "What else? You didn't think I still had feelings for you, did you? Raymond, considering you're about to die, I won't hold your past actions against you. Once you're dead, we're even. You're an orphan with no family or friends. If I don't come to collect your body, who will? I can't let your ashes end up in a trash can."
Being cursed by the one he loved was suffocating.
Raymond's eyes reddened.
He knew he deserved it. He had no right to blame her for being so cold.
But it still hurt. His eyes filled with tears, his throat tight with emotion.
He forced a smile, his voice strained. "Thanks for coming."
Even if it was just to collect his body, even if she had come for nothing.
Seeing her one last time was enough.
He was grateful.
"Such a waste of my time."
"It's okay. Just a few more days," Raymond reassured her. "It won't be long now."
Margaret felt even more conflicted as he agreed with her.
She looked around the room, then back at him, her voice cold. "Make sure Alvin is more precise next time. Call me when he's really dead. Raymond, unlike you, my time is valuable," she said, turning and leaving the room, slamming the door behind her.
Raymond lay on the bed, his body trembling.
Tears streamed down his face and fell onto his needle-marked hand.
He had held back his tears several times, but Margaret's words had broken him.
How much did she hate him to say such things?
But he couldn't blame anyone. He had made Margaret remember, he had pushed her away.
He had chosen this path, and he would see it through.
"Margaret, don't worry. I'll fulfill your wish. Death doesn't scare me. You don't need me anymore, and I can leave in peace." He muttered to himself.
Margaret left the room, forcing back her tears. She didn't leave the hospital but went to Rufus's office. Rufus was about to leave but was surprised and pleased to see her. "Mrs. Howard, are you here to see Mr. Howard?"
"We're divorced. You don't need to call me that," Margaret said, frowning.
Rufus understood but didn't comment. Margaret's presence at the hospital showed she still cared.
"Ms. Hughes, how can I help you?" Rufus asked politely.
Margaret took a deep breath and voiced her concern. "Let me see Raymond's medical records."
"That might not be appropriate," Rufus said, looking troubled. "Mr. Howard's condition is under control. You don't need to worry."
Raymond had instructed him to keep his condition a secret from Margaret, not wanting to burden her.
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