Chapter 82 This is Fate
Margaret knew the lady was genuinely sweet and just wanted her to get her act together.
But if she could've done that, she wouldn't be here, right?
Raymond's eyes were intense as he pushed. "Hurry up, I've only got five minutes."
The staff looked up at Raymond when he spoke.
His stare was icy, his vibe all high and mighty, like he owned the place.
Seeing Raymond was like seeing the boss, making her all jittery for no reason.
Raymond didn't seem like the friendly type; no wonder Margaret was hanging around the Family Court for a divorce.
The staff carefully checked the papers both of them handed over, made sure everything was in order, and then filed them away in a secret spot.
She ripped off two receipts, handing one to Raymond.
Raymond didn't bother taking it, so Alvin grabbed it for him.
The staff handed the other receipt to Margaret. "If you still want the divorce in a month, come back by the date on the receipt to get your divorce certificate."
She added, "Oh, and both of you need to show up in person to finalize it."
Margaret glanced at the date on the receipt; she had to wait a whole month to get the divorce certificate.
She might not even make it a month.
"Our relationship's already toast, and we've been apart for a year. Can we just get the divorce certificate now?" Margaret blurted out.
Raymond's lips tightened into a thin line.
His big hands at his sides clenched up.
The staff was taken aback at first, then seemed to get why she was in such a rush. She thought, 'If it were me, I'd want out too.'
She gave Margaret a complicated look. "There's nothing else we can do. Your divorce registration's already processed. Just come back then."
"Thanks, I get it." Margaret stuffed all the papers into her black handbag, including the tiny receipt.
Raymond checked his watch, turned, and walked briskly towards the Family Court door.
His strides were long and fast.
Alvin trailed behind him.
Margaret stepped out of the Family Court and suddenly noticed it was snowing hard outside.
She called out, "Raymond."
As soon as she spoke, she saw his tall, strong frame freeze, but he didn't turn around.
She quickly caught up to him in her snow boots, but he stayed stone-faced, his eyes dead.
Margaret bit her lip; she thought he'd be as torn up as she was.
Only she was mourning this dead marriage and love; he didn't give a damn.
Thinking about it made her chest feel tight, and she started breathing hard.
The cold wind whipped the snowflakes around, landing on her head, adding a touch of sad beauty.
Margaret forced a smile and asked him casually, "Raymond, can you find a way to speed up the divorce process?"
Raymond's eyes shifted suddenly, and he let out a few mocking laughs, about to say something.
His phone rang in his coat pocket.
Raymond took off his black leather gloves, pulled out his phone, and answered the call right in front of Margaret, his expression changing slightly.
"Raymond, when are you coming to pick me up? It's snowing, I didn't drive, and it's freezing out here."
Margaret instantly recognized Sarah's voice.
Wait, wasn't Sarah locked up? How'd she get out so fast?
Then she heard Raymond's soft reply, "Hang tight at the police station, I'll be there soon."
After hanging up, Raymond was about to leave, but Margaret stopped him again. "You can make it happen, right?"
He paused, turned to look at her for a few seconds, then sneered, "Can't wait a month?"
"I'm scared you'll change your mind," Margaret said, though she was really scared she might change hers.
Raymond's eyes filled with even more mockery. "You're too sure of yourself."
Margaret pressed, "Wouldn't it be better to marry her sooner? Raymond, wouldn't it be better for us to end this quicker and move on?"
Margaret bit her lip, forcing a smile, while he kept reminding her she wasn't good enough for him.
An inexplicable irritation surged in Raymond's heart, thinking that for that cop, she couldn't wait even a day or a second longer.
Margaret exhaled, her nose turning red from the cold wind. "I might not make it to next month. We're gonna get divorced anyway, so can we just do it sooner?"
Raymond's face turned even colder, and he sneered, "You think you won't make it to next month?"
Margaret nodded. "Yeah."
Raymond smiled indifferently, his smile faint and full of sarcasm. "That's great. If you die, I won't have to make another trip to the Family Court."
He turned and walked down the steps.
Alvin's expression was also complicated, feeling both sympathy and pity for Margaret. He couldn't help but want to explain to Margaret, "Mrs. Howard, Mr. Howard actually doesn't want to—"
Before he could finish, Raymond's voice, filled with anger and laughter, interrupted, "Alvin, you talk too much."
Alvin said, "Mrs. Howard, I'm leaving."
Seeing Mr. Howard lose his temper, Alvin quickly nodded and smiled at Margaret, then turned and walked down the steps, opening the car door for Raymond.
Raymond got in, and Alvin closed the door and returned to the driver's seat.
Margaret watched the car speed away.
She pulled out a bitter smile, thinking, 'What am I thinking? Whether I live or die has nothing to do with him. He hopes I'd die sooner; he even bought my urn.'
Margaret walked down the street, realizing that Christmas was just a few days away.
The streets were decked out with streamers.
In the evening, when the lights were on, these streamers would look beautiful.
Margaret remembered Daniel had something to tell her, so she quickly called him back.
"Ms. Hughes, it's hard to explain over the phone. Are you free? Let's talk over dinner," Daniel said, "I'm about to get off work."
Margaret thought, 'Going back would only be lonely and sad.'
She was also eager to know about the little mute, so she agreed.
Daniel picked a restaurant not far from the police station. Margaret drove there and found Daniel wearing a green cotton jacket, black sweatpants, and Martin boots.
He was wearing a knit hat, waiting for her at the police station entrance.
Out of uniform, Daniel had a clean and polite vibe.
Margaret almost didn't recognize him.
Daniel called her name first, and she responded, asking casually, "Mr. Taylor, any news about the mute boy?"
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