Chapter 80 Selfishness
Bianca tilted her head, confusion clouding her features. "Why?"
Terrence lowered his gaze, his long lashes trembling like delicate wings about to take flight.
His hand pressed against the window frame tightened, fingers curling into a fist as turmoil churned through his chest like a raging storm.
He couldn't let Bianca know how desperately he needed her—it would make him seem pathetic, weak.
Everyone craved freedom. No one wanted to be caged. He couldn't be that selfish.
The internal battle raged as Terrence fought to convince himself, slowly lifting his head with a bitter smile twisting his lips. "I've been dealing with some complicated issues..."
Bianca cut him off before he could finish the lie. "Terrence, don't bullshit me. I want the truth, not some fabricated excuse."
Seeing her brow furrow with determination, Terrence's mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air before he finally choked out the words. "I can't function without you around."
The admission hung between them as he dropped his head, unable to meet her eyes, terrified of seeing disgust reflected back at him.
Those simple words hit Bianca like a physical blow, making her heart stutter in her chest.
She cupped his face in both hands, staring at the bloodshot veins threading through his eyes, feeling as though thousands of needles were piercing her heart simultaneously.
Drawing a shaky breath, her expression became fierce with devotion. "If that's what you need, I'll stay with you."
Without realizing it, her nose began to sting and her voice cracked with emotion. She'd been so fucking selfish, getting caught up in campus life while completely ignoring his suffering.
Terrence hadn't expected this response. His fingers trembled as they covered her hands still cradling his face. "Won't you get sick of me?"
"How could I ever get sick of you? I'm crazy about you, I want to be glued to your side every second. I care about your feelings, your well-being. I can't stand watching you waste away, not eating, not sleeping—it tears me apart inside.
"I don't have afternoon classes. Let's go to that apartment you bought."
Bianca released his face and strode to the passenger side, yanking the door open and sliding inside with determined efficiency. By the time Terrence processed what was happening, she'd already buckled her seatbelt and was staring at him with unwavering intensity.
"We can leave now."
Joy spread across his features like sunrise breaking through storm clouds. The oppressive weight that had been crushing his chest for days finally began to lift, and for the first time in what felt like forever, his face relaxed into something resembling peace.
The engine's rumble gradually died as the car settled into its parking space. The apartment building stood just minutes from campus, close enough to walk but far enough for privacy. The space wasn't massive, but it was perfectly sized for one person, every detail arranged according to Bianca's preferences.
The moment she stepped inside, delight flooded through her. She spun around and threw her arms around Terrence's neck, practically climbing him like a tree. "I love what you've done with the place. I never got to tell you properly before, but now you're here to hear it."
Terrence couldn't help but smile in response.
The entire apartment radiated warmth, instantly lifting his spirits the moment he crossed the threshold.
Bianca grabbed his hand, their fingers interlacing naturally as she led him toward the bedroom. She pushed him down onto the mattress with surprising force, then curled up beside him, her eyes bright as stars as she studied his face.
"There. Now that I'm here with you, you can finally get some real sleep."
Terrence let out a soft chuckle. He hadn't felt tired moments before, but somehow, with her warm presence beside him, his eyelids grew heavy and sleep claimed him without warning.
Bianca waved her hand gently in front of his face, testing his awareness. When he didn't respond and his breathing evened out into the rhythm of deep sleep, she carefully extracted herself from the bed and tiptoed to the living room.
She pulled out her phone and typed quickly: [Has Terrence been sleeping at all these past few days?]
Barry's response came almost immediately, dripping with frustration: [Ms. Rodriguez, since you've been away, Mr. Anderson hasn't slept more than a few hours total. He's been surviving on nothing but coffee and stubbornness. We've tried talking sense into him, but he won't listen to anyone. I think you're the only person who can get him to rest properly.]
Bianca's fingers traced the edge of her phone screen as she read the message, tears welling up until her vision blurred.
Guilt and heartbreak crashed over her in waves—how had she been so blind to his suffering? How many nights had he spent awake, torturing himself while she remained oblivious?
Hot tears spilled down her cheeks, each drop carrying the weight of her regret.
A soft sound from behind made her turn. Terrence stood in the bedroom doorway, his hair mussed from sleep but his eyes clearer than they'd been in days, watching her with quiet intensity.
She jumped up immediately, forcing a bright smile as she wrapped her arms around his waist. "You're awake already? Why don't you sleep a little longer?"
"Woke up and you weren't there." Terrence pulled her against him, resting his chin on top of her head, his voice rough with sleep and vulnerability.
Bianca pushed gently against his chest, then looked up at him with serious determination burning in her eyes. "Move in here with me."
Terrence froze, looking down at her with furrowed brows. "No, I'd just get in your way."
"But I can't stand watching you destroy yourself with insomnia." Her fingers traced the exhausted lines around his eyes with infinite tenderness. "Seeing you like this breaks my fucking heart. I hate myself for not noticing sooner, for not being there when you needed me."
Terrence's throat worked as emotions crashed through him like a tsunami—bitter and scorching and overwhelming.
He pressed his forehead against hers, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don't want you to feel obligated."
"It's not obligation. I want to be here with you. I've missed you like crazy too."
Bianca suddenly captured his lips with hers, her tongue darting out to trace the seam of his mouth with desperate hunger. She sucked his upper lip between hers, pouring all her longing and relief into the kiss, her fingers finding his nipple through his shirt and circling it with maddening precision.
Terrence's ragged breathing filled the space between their mouths as passion ignited between them like wildfire.
The intimate atmosphere thickened around them, every touch carrying the desperate need of lovers too long separated. This was raw, primal attraction that couldn't be denied or controlled.
As evening painted the sky in deep purples, moonlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting silver shadows across the hardwood floor. The glass felt shockingly cold against Bianca's skin, a stark contrast to the burning heat of Terrence's body pressed against her back.
His chest molded to her spine as he leaned close to her ear, catching her earlobe between his teeth and breathing hot air that made her shiver.
Bianca found herself pinned against the window, the chill trying unsuccessfully to cool the fire building inside her. The temperature contrast only heightened every sensation, making her crave more of his touch.
Below them, the city sparkled with life—pedestrians strolling past, cars honking in the distance. The glass reflected their intimate scene with crystal clarity, showing her exactly how wanton she looked pressed against the window.
Her palms flattened against the cool surface as she surrendered to the skilled hands roaming her body, igniting flames wherever they touched. Soft moans escaped her lips, though she tried to muffle them, acutely aware of how sound might carry in the night air.
Terrence buried his face in the curve of her neck, his hot breath sending shivers down her spine as his large hands traveled upward with deliberate intent, finally cupping her soft breasts with possessive hunger.
He kneaded and caressed them like he was worshipping something sacred, his touch both gentle and commanding as he claimed every inch of her willing body.