Chapter 44 Refusal of Treatment
Terrence couldn't imagine what it would look like when fear appeared in Bianca's eyes.
Behind Terrence came Samuel's piercing screams.
Terrence walked to the car, where a subordinate was already respectfully pulling open the door.
A trusted aide caught up, reporting in a low voice: "Mr. Anderson, we couldn't get anything more out of him. The other party is very cautious."
Terrence paused slightly. Behind his sunglasses, no one could see the emotion in his eyes. They only heard him sneer coldly: "Sneaky bastard."
He bent down to get in the car: "Clean it up properly."
The trusted subordinate watched the car door close, slightly surprised.
Given Terrence's usual methods, Samuel wouldn't get off with just losing his hands.
The next day.
Bianca ran into Barry hurrying out just as she came home from work.
"Mrs. Anderson." Seeing her, Barry immediately stopped and greeted her respectfully.
"Barry," Bianca collected herself and looked at him, "Has Mr. Anderson finished dealing with things?"
"Mr. Anderson is still busy." Barry chose his words carefully, his gaze falling on Bianca's face. He seemed to have made up his mind, "Mrs. Anderson, there's something I think you should know."
Bianca's heart tightened, and she gestured for him to continue.
"It's about Mr. Anderson's eye condition."
Barry lowered his voice, "The latest comprehensive evaluation results from Dr. Graves' team are out. The recovery of Mr. Anderson's eye nerves and tissues is much better than we previously expected. In fact, he basically meets the conditions for the final stage of treatment."
"Really?" Bianca's eyes instantly lit up with joy, almost standing up, "That's wonderful! Why hasn't surgery been scheduled?"
But Barry's face showed no joy; instead, it became more serious: "The problem is that Mr. Anderson himself is very resistant to this final step."
"Resistant? Why?"
Bianca was stunned. Wasn't regaining his sight what Terrence had been hoping for all along? Even though he never showed it much in front of her.
"Dr. Graves believes the problem may be psychological."
Barry's voice carried a trace of worry, "That car accident back then had a huge impact on Mr. Anderson. The physical damage is gradually healing, but psychologically, he seems to be subconsciously resisting it."
"Dr. Graves says this psychological barrier makes Mr. Anderson instinctively reject the final repair and adaptive treatment."
Barry's words hit Bianca's heart like a blunt hammer.
That subtle unease instantly found its source, transforming into overwhelming heartache that nearly suffocated her.
So the scar wasn't just left on his eyes—it was carved deep into Terrence's soul.
It wasn't that he didn't want to see; he was afraid to see.
Overwhelming sorrow surged through her nose. Bianca blinked hard to force back the moisture.
Barry looked at her, his tone sincere: "Mrs. Anderson, I've been by Mr. Anderson's side for many years, and I've never seen him treat anyone the way he treats you—so special. He might actually listen to what you say."
"We subordinates don't carry much weight, and Mr. Anderson ignores what the doctors say. If this keeps dragging on, I'm afraid we'll miss the best window for recovery. So I can only presume to ask you—could you find a way to persuade Mr. Anderson?"
Bianca looked at the genuine concern in Barry's eyes, touched.
She took a deep breath: "I understand. Thank you for telling me, Barry. I'll find a way."
She couldn't let Terrence stay trapped in darkness, whether physical or psychological.
Since he'd opened a crack in his heart for her, she had to work hard to let more light in.
After Barry left, Bianca stood there for a long time.
She turned and walked toward the kitchen.
She remembered Hugo mentioning that appropriate sensory pleasure and relaxation could sometimes subtly ease psychological tension.
She wanted to do something for Terrence, even if it was just something small and sweet.
Tying on an apron, Bianca began bustling about in the kitchen.
She planned to make the almond cream he'd seemed to eat more of before, along with some delicate osmanthus cakes.
However, when taking out the steamed desserts, distracted by her thoughts, her wrist accidentally touched the scalding edge of the steamer.
A sharp pain shot through the back of her hand. Bianca gasped and jerked her hand back.
A small patch of her smooth skin had turned red, burning painfully.
She was about to rinse it with cold water when hurried, familiar footsteps sounded behind her.
Terrence had come downstairs at some point and was standing in the kitchen doorway.
"What happened?" His voice was low, with a barely detectable tension.
"It's—it's nothing," Bianca instinctively tried to hide her injured hand behind her back, "I just bumped it accidentally."
But Terrence had already strode over to her, gripping her wrist with undeniable force.
He lowered his head, looking at her reddened hand.
"You call this nothing?" His tone instantly grew heavy, with obvious displeasure and... heartache, "Bianca, how did you manage this?"
He pulled her to the living room sofa, somewhat forcefully making her sit down, then turned to a nearby servant, his voice cold: "First aid kit."
The kit was quickly brought over.
Terrence dismissed the servant and opened it himself, his movements practiced as he found the burn ointment.
He sat beside her, loosening his grip on her wrist slightly. His cool fingertips scooped up the ointment, then carefully applied it bit by bit to that glaring red mark.
His actions were completely opposite to his currently cold, harsh tone.
The cooling sensation of the ointment eased her pain.
"I just wanted to make some desserts for you." She explained softly, with a hint of grievance, but more heartache for him.
"Barry told me everything. Your eyes—they can be treated, so why won't you?"
Terrence's hand applying the ointment paused slightly. The air around him seemed to grow colder, but he didn't interrupt her.
Bianca gathered her courage and gently grasped the fingers that were treating her injury, "Terrence, don't be afraid. No matter what, I'll be by your side. Darkness shouldn't be where you belong. I want you to see me with your own eyes, to see our future home."
She felt his fingers tighten around her wrist for a moment, and his breathing seemed to catch.
Silence spread between them, with only their intertwined breaths clearly audible.
After a long while, Terrence let out a barely audible sigh.
He continued applying the ointment, his movements still gentle, but his voice came out low and hoarse: "Okay."
Just one simple word, yet it instantly filled Bianca's heart with overwhelming joy and hope.
He'd agreed!
"After your hand heals." He added, his tone returning to its usual calm, "I'll schedule a time with Dr. Graves."
Bianca looked at Terrence's handsome face so close to hers, then broke into an incredibly bright, radiant smile: "Okay, I'll wait for you."