Christopher had been awake for over a week, and his vital signs had finally shown so recovery.
Despite detesting her son’s rebelliousness and lack of filial piety, Emma Carter could not forget he was her own flesh and blood. Just as Alia Garcia said, the love of parents for their children is the only kind of love that is always selfless and expects no repaynt. Thus, Emma and her husband tried everything they could, enlisting the top dical teams from both within the country and internationally to conduct a full examination of Christopher and develop the most scientific treatnt plan.
However, after an exhaustive examination, everyone’s hopes were once again shattered.
Everyone had clung to a glimr of hope.
But now the experts were saying, "The situation is worse than we anticipated."
A sinking feeling in her heart, Emma’s voice trembled with fear, "Doctor, are you saying... there’s no solution? He’s still so young, do we just let him...?"
The doctor explained in detail, "As we suspected earlier, his blindness is due to a hematoma in the cranial cavity pressing on the optic nerve, which is a very sensitive area. If we operate, one false move could damage the optic nerve and potentially cause permanent blindness."
George Hart pressed for more information, "So what you’re saying is, we just wait and give him conservative treatnt?"
"For now... that’s the safest approach. We can wait for the hematoma to dissipate a little, or wait for it to move to a different location. If it becos suitable for surgery, then we can perform a craniotomy to remove the hematoma, which should restore his visual function."
"As for his current paralysis, it’s partly due to the severe injuries to his spine and legs, and also related to the serious trauma to his brain."
"The cerebellum is an essential component of the central nervous system, acting like a regulator, controlling the body’s balance, muscular tension, and coordinating movents. If Mr. Hart wants to stand up again, aside from waiting for his body to recover and working hard on rehabilitation, we also have to see how the brain injuries heal."
Listening, Emma felt disheartened and couldn’t help getting angry, "So, after all that, what you’re saying is everything depends on fate? Then what’s the point of having doctors at all!"
"Old Lady Hart, it’s not exactly right to put it that way. We doctors are certainly useful. The dical team has already planned a surgery in a few days, to allow his external injuries to heal as quickly as possible, at least to the point where he can breathe on his own."
"However... how effective our treatnt plan will be also depends on the patient’s cooperation, but..."
The doctor had been speaking fluently up to this point, but started to hesitate when it ca to the patient.
"Mr. Hart has been visibly more irritable these days, and even taking his dication has beco a challenge. With this attitude, even the best dical expertise will be less effective."
Emma was all too aware of her son’s character and said irritably, "If he won’t take it, can’t you find another way? Since he can’t move right now, why not just tie his hands and inject the dicine?!"
The doctor gave a helpless smile, "Old Lady Hart, we are trying various thods, but the treatnt of any condition is related to the patient’s emotions and will. Mr. Hart’s spirit is low..."
Alia had co to visit Christopher, but as she passed by the doctor’s office in the hallway, she inadvertently overheard Emma’s voice.
She paused to listen for a while longer.
Unexpectedly, it was all bad news.
In the days that followed, besides being busy, she had also searched online for a lot of information. There were many cases, similar to Christopher’s, where patients had good luck and recovered without treatnt. There were even worse scenarios where doctors had diagnosed permanent paralysis, yet the patients ultimately stood up again and slowly returned to normal life with strong willpower and careful attention from their families.
If other people could do it, she believed Christopher could too.
But the doctor said he was now disheartened and wouldn’t cooperate with the treatnt.
She stood for a long ti, her expression heavy and complex.
The two children by her side looked up at her and shook her hand, "Mom, you—"
"Shh!" she snapped back to reality, quickly hushing the children, and then turned to walk away with them in tow.
Noah, who was sensitive and mature beyond his years, asked worriedly, "Mommy, does that an daddy can’t get better?"
Feeling downcast, she suddenly felt as if her own future had lost its shine.
After a pause, she whispered to comfort her son, "It’s not entirely impossible, it depends on whether your dad is brave and strong enough."
Ethan shouted confidently, "Daddy can definitely do it! Daddy is amazing, he’s a superhero!"
After that night, Christopher had completely won over the hearts of the two brothers.
Thinking that Emma Carter and George Hart were there, Alia hesitated, unsure if she should visit Christopher.
She feared that the couple might co to the ward later and her presence would provoke another conflict.
But before she could back out, Noah could no longer wait, "Mommy, haven’t we reached Daddy’s ward yet?"
She looked down at her son and saw the eager anticipation in the eyes of both little guys, not wanting to dampen their spirits.
Christopher had been awake for a week now, and neither Noah nor Ethan had visited him.
"Let’s go, it’s just up ahead."
Regardless, she’d had conflicts with Emma Carter for more than a day or two, so she decided to go for it.
Approaching the ward, Alia had not yet knocked when she heard the scolding from inside.
"Get out! Don’t touch !"
"Mr. Hart..."
"Out! Or I’ll file a complaint!"
"..."
"Get lost!"
Even without seeing his face, one could imagine his current look of fury, like a fierce demon.
It must have been tough on those who had served him during these days.
The door was suddenly pulled open from inside, and as the nursing aide stepped out to leave, seeing them, she started, then nodded her head.
Without entering, Alia looked inside, then pulled the children aside to let the nursing aide exit first.
"Hello... I was wondering, what’s got him in a temper this ti?" Alia closed the door gently and asked in a low voice.
The middle-aged male aide sighed with a sense of helplessness, "He can’t move, but his body needs to be turned frequently to avoid bedsores, which can beco a big problem if they develop. But every ti we try to turn him over, he gets extrely angry and refuses to be touched."
Clearly, the aide was also frustrated and couldn’t help but complain, "I’ve taken care of many patients, but I’ve never encountered anyone with such a temper as his."
He thought that if it weren’t for the considerable compensation they were receiving, he wouldn’t put up with such nonsense.
Alia, looking apologetic, hurriedly apologized, "Thank you for your hard work."
"You should talk to him more as family mbers. I’ve taken care of patients paralyzed in bed before, and so of them did recover! Miracles can happen in this world."
"Thank you."
Christopher’s hearing was very sharp now.
Although the door was closed, he could still hear voices.
When he realized it was Alia who had co, a look of anticipation clearly crossed his face, but very soon, as if by a trick, his expression returned to indifference, and he closed his eyes, pretending to be asleep.
The door to the ward opened again, and Alia entered with the children.
The two little ones were very sensible, knowing that Daddy needed rest and should not be disturbed; even Ethan, who normally wouldn’t stop talking, kept his mouth tightly shut and was extra careful to walk slowly.
Alia carried a thermos, bringing more nourishing soup with her.
The last ti she brought so, she later heard from the nurse that all of it had been drunk up—except for what Emma had sent, which was taken back ho by the housekeeper, untouched.
When she found out, she didn’t know whether to cry or laugh.
It’s no wonder Emma Carter couldn’t stand her, even feeling hostile and adversarial.
Which mother wants to see her son forget about her once he has a wife?
People would only think it’s her, "the other woman," who stepped in and wrecked the original close mother-son relationship, so naturally, they would be repulsed and hostile towards her.
She set the thermos down on the nightstand and turned to look at the "sleeping" man, a cold sneer spilling from the corner of her mouth.
"Okay, stop pretending. I brought soup; get up and have so."
Noah and Ethan stood beside the bed, their big black eyes staring at their dad, looking a bit bewildered.
Ethan watched for a few seconds, his childish gaze falling to his father’s hand lying quietly by the bed’s edge.
Like a puppet on a string, the little guy walked over, raised his small hand, and held onto the large one.
Christopher had his eyes closed, but when a soft touch landed in his palm, he jolted in surprise, his eyes also snapping open.
Ethan shouted happily, "Daddy’s awake!"
Hearing the clear child’s voice, Christopher was even more shocked, subconsciously looking up towards the headboard, "Who did you bring?"
Alia, pouring soup, replied indifferently, "Your son! Who else would call you ’dad’?"
As her words ended, the man suddenly withdrew his hand, pushing away his son’s small hand.
"Who told you to bring them here? Leave now!" At the sa ti, the man rudely issued his eviction order.
Alia, holding the thermos and pouring soup, didn’t move, just shifted her gaze to look at her son’s rejected hand and then back to his angrily handso face.
Ha—
She couldn’t help but sneer again.
It seed the doctors were right; his temper had indeed beco more volatile.
Being rude to dical staff, speaking harshly to his own mother, outright expelling the caregivers, and being sarcastically harsh to her—that was one thing.
But now he was inexplicably lashing out at the children!
Her anger suddenly flared, her face cold and her tone not pleasant, "Christopher, what are you going off about? What’s wrong with the kids? They’ve been longing to see you, kept asking over and over. I thought you’d be bored lying in the hospital all day, so I brought them to talk to you, to cheer you up a bit—what do you an by this?!"
She spoke at length, but Christopher remained unmoved, his anger intensifying.
"I don’t need it. I want to recuperate alone, take them away!"
Noah and Ethan stood there, their little excited faces now frozen in confusion.
Before, it was daddy who was nice to them, and they ignored him.
Now, they wanted their daddy, but daddy seed to hate them and wanted to send them away.
Ethan’s mouth puckered as if he might cry, "Daddy... it’s , Ethan—when the bad auntie took away, it was daddy who rescued ... Daddy, brother and I don’t bla you anymore, we want you to get better soon."
Without Alia’s prompting, one child took the initiative to coax him.
To Christopher, the word ’daddy’ was like a heavenly sound, but it also caused him acute pain.
Benny Palr had said that before the incident, once he knew of his sons’ existence, he had patiently and attentively tried to win them over.
But the little guys were decisive, believing he had abandoned their mother, making her suffer a lot, so they harbored resentnt against him—regardless of how he tried to express his sincerity, they wouldn’t warm up to him or accept him as their dad.
Unexpectedly, the kids were now willing to call him daddy, but he couldn’t bear the title.
He didn’t want them to see their dad as soone broken, didn’t want them to pity him.
In their eyes, their dad should be big and strong, capable of anything, not a disabled person who was blind and unable to move.
Thinking all this made his emotions even more agitated, his fist hamring onto the bed’s surface, "Alia Garcia, can’t you hear ?! Take them away!"
Alia held it in for a long ti until his outburst, and then she couldn’t hold back any longer, setting down the thermos with a thud, "Have you had enough, Christopher Hart?! Don’t think I wouldn’t dare to do anything to you just because you’re injured! I know what you’re thinking, but you can’t take out your negative emotions on the kids in front of them!"
This sudden sharp tone frightened the two children standing by the bed, their eyes widening as they looked at their mother.
Because she was usually very gentle with them.
Even when they did sothing wrong and caused trouble, at most, she would just scold them sternly, but she had never been this furious.
Christopher Hart in the hospital bed, being blind and therefore acutely sensitive to sound, also found his pulse racing when the woman raised her voice suddenly.
But quickly, he returned to his indifferent, cold deanor.
Alia looked at her two sons, seeing the little guys too frightened to move, completely unsettled, and let out a sigh to ease her anger.
Taking out her phone, she made a call.
"Fuller, co up here and take the kids downstairs first."
After hanging up, Alia instructed her son, "Baby, Uncle Fuller is coming up to get you, you go back to the car first and wait for mommy."
"Oh..." Noah replied, turning his eyes towards the hospital bed. His face, which had been filled with anticipation, now turned cold and haughty.
"Daddy made mommy mad, bad daddy! Co on, brother, let’s go, don’t bother with him!"
"..." Alia was shocked by her eldest son’s words.
But thinking of that man’s infuriating behavior, getting cursed by his son seed deserved.
She turned to look at the man’s face, seeing his lips pressed tight and his brow trembling subtly, clearly affected by his son’s words.
Fuller arrived with efficiency; it was only two or three minutes after hanging up the phone that he had co to the hospital room.
Sensing the tense atmosphere, Fuller didn’t ask any questions and led the children out.
Noah looked at his mother worriedly, and Alia smiled gently to reassure him, "Don’t worry, he can’t move right now, mommy will be fine."
Can’t move...
Christopher Hart was struck by these words and turned his head away.
Alia did it on purpose.
He was constantly reminded of this fact, and the more others tiptoed around it, the more he minded.
It would be better to speak frankly.
After the children left and the door of the hospital room closed, the woman’s tender smile vanished as if flipping a switch, leaving her face expressionless and dissatisfied.
"Christopher Hart, what are you implying? Do you plan to disown your children as well?"
He kept his face turned away, remaining silent.
"Christopher Hart, I’m talking to you! Have you beco mute?"
The man didn’t turn around, but spoke with a slow and indifferent tone, "You should go too... I’m tired, I want to rest for a while."
"You—" Alia was infuriated by his lifeless attitude, stuttered for a mont, and then said angrily, "If it weren’t for your injuries, I really would slap you!"
The man curled his lips in self-mockery, "Since I can’t move anyway, suit yourself—just right, pay back all the resentnt you have for from the past."
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