Chapter 2
Margaret stared intently at the photo, her sharp and calm gaze seeming as if it could pierce a hole through it.
She was so clueless that she couldn't see people's true colors at all.
Raymond was her hubby, and Sarah was her so-called bestie, who once promised to have her back but ended up stabbing her in it.
Margaret thought, 'She had the audacity to ruin my marriage and then flaunt it in front of me. She's got some nerve.'
Margaret was proud; even if the Hughes Family had now fallen into Raymond's hands, she was still the Hughes Family's only daughter.
Sarah was just a little tag-along who used to kiss up to her.
Margaret cut off all contact with Sarah.
She knew it wasn't just Sarah's fault. Raymond was no saint either.
Waiting for Raymond, she skipped dinner and just popped some painkillers the doc gave her.
The clock on the wall hit eleven.
Margaret called Raymond again, using a new number, but he didn't answer.
Right at midnight, she heard the door code being punched in, and the door swung open.
Margaret was curled up on the couch, holding a cup of water, not even looking up.
Then three documents got tossed right at her face.
One of them nicked the corner of her eye, cutting her skin.
They landed at her feet, but she didn't feel the pain. She just felt like she was rotting from the inside out.
Raymond's voice was steady, his words clear, but dripping with disgust. "Quit the act! Sign it!"
She bent down and picked up the papers from the floor.
She looked up at him.
After a year of not seeing him, he hadn't changed a bit; if anything, he looked even more handsome, more distinguished.
A year of silent treatment hadn't done a thing to him.
He was wearing a black coat.
The same black coat she had given him for his birthday; he hadn't tossed it after all this time.
He said impatiently, "Are you sick? I only got five minutes, hurry up and sign!"
He frowned, urging her, and pulled a pen from his suit pocket, placing it in front of her.
Even for a divorce, he was in such a rush, only giving her five minutes.
Margaret looked at him. "Raymond, tell me why you betrayed me and the Hughes Family."
"Your dad's dying, and you still act all high and mighty?" Raymond sneered, curling his lips in disdain.
"Without me and the Hughes family, you wouldn't be who you are today." She realized he was a puzzle, full of contradictions.
If he didn't care about her, why was he still wearing the black coat she bought him?
If he did care, why had he been so cold to her for a year, pushing her for a divorce, talking to her so harshly?
She couldn't figure it out.
He seemed pissed, walked up to her, and grabbed her by the neck. "Who gave you the guts to talk to me like that?"
She saw the burning hatred in his eyes, like he wanted to tear her apart.
Her cheeks turned pale, it hurt so much, but she forced the tears back and mocked, "You ungrateful orphan."
"No one is born an orphan!" His veins bulged.
There was too much info in that sentence. Margaret even forgot she was struggling to breathe. "Then how did your family die?"
Raymond's face turned cold, the veins on the back of his hand bulging. "Shut up!"
She coughed continuously, struggling, but couldn't break free from his grip.
People always liked to fight fate, only to realize it was pointless and understand that you could't fight destiny.
She closed her eyes in despair, giving up the struggle, tears bursting from her eyes, falling onto his hand, which wore an expensive watch.
He suddenly pushed her, making her fall onto the couch.
The divorce papers were thrown at her face again. "Sign it; I don't wanna say it again!"
"Raymond, if one day you find that you've lost me forever, that I'm dead, would you cry?" She looked up, asking him very seriously; this answer was super important to her.
Margaret paused, staring at his features without blinking. "Would you show up at my funeral?"