The Billionaire's Insignificant Wife novel Chapter 38

Too Numb to Feel

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Dr. Anderson–a man in his fifties with black–framed glasses and a professional demeanor–knocked gently on Alina’s bedroom door before entering.

“Mrs. Blackwood?” he called in a calm, soothing voice. “I’m Dr. Anderson. Mr. Blackwood called me to examine your wound.”

Alina still stood at the window–rigid posture, motionless–like a statue.

“Please come in,” she finally said. Voice flat, without inflection.

Dr. Anderson stepped inside, closing the door behind him. His eyes immediately fell on Alina’s bandaged hand- already stained with blood seeping through.

“May I see the wound?” he asked, setting his medical bag on the table.

Alina turned–slow, mechanical—and walked to the chair. She sat with stiff posture, extending her right hand without a word.

Dr. Anderson began unwrapping the bandage carefully. When the last layer lifted, he flinched slightly at the sight of the deep wound–a clean cut from sharp glass, right on her palm.

“This is quite deep,” he commented, examining it gently. “What happened, Mrs. Blackwood?”

“An accident,” Alina answered briefly.

Dr. Anderson looked at her- a brief professional assessment then focused back on the wound.

“You already cleaned it with alcohol?” he asked, seeing the clean edges.

“Yes.”

“That must have been very painful. Alcohol on an open wound like this

“It doesn’t matter.”

Two words. Final. Not opening room for further discussion.

Dr. Anderson paused–something in Alina’s posture, in her tone of voice, made him stop. He’d been the Blackwood family doctor for a long time. Had seen many things. But there was something about Mrs. Blackwood. today that was… different.

The woman who was usually polite, warm, even nervous with medical procedures–now sat with a blank expression. Didn’t flinch when he began cleaning the wound more deeply. Didn’t react when he applied strong antiseptic.

As if she felt nothing.

Or as if she was already too numb to care.

“Mrs. Blackwood,” Dr. Anderson said softly as he began stitching the wound with careful stitches, “this wound needs five stitches. I’ll give you local anesthesia first

ot necessary,” Alina cut in. “Just continue.”

“But this will be very painful

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“Continue.”

A tone that left no room for argument.

Dr. Anderson looked at her–concerned–but ultimately nodded. He began stitching as gently as possible, watching Alina’s face for signs of pain.

There were none.

No flinching. No tensing. Even her breathing remained steady.

Five stitches. Each needle puncture should have caused significant pain.

But Alina sat there as if feeling nothing.

“Done,” Dr. Anderson finally said, wrapping her hand with fresh, secure bandaging. “I’ll leave antibiotics and pain medication. Take the antibiotics three times daily with food. Pain medication as needed—”

“I don’t need pain medication.”

“Mrs. Blackwood, this wound will hurt for several days. Especially at night. Pain medication will help-“}

“I don’t need it.”

Dr. Anderson paused–wanting to insist but seeing Alina’s closed–off expression, he knew pushing wouldn’t work.

“Alright,” he said quietly, packing up his equipment. “But I’ll still leave the prescription. In case you change your mind.”

He stood, taking his medical bag.

“The stitches need to be removed in ten days. Don’t get it wet for the first three days. And if there are any signs of infection–redness, swelling, fever–contact me immediately.”

Alina nodded–minimal acknowledgment.

Dr. Anderson looked at her a moment longer–professional concern in his eyes–then walked to the door.

At the threshold, he stopped.

“Mrs. Blackwood,” he said quietly, “if you need to talk to someone… I can recommend a good counselor. Sometimes physical injuries aren’t the only thing that needs healing.”

A gentle but clear implication.

Alina didn’t look at him. Just sat there with her newly bandaged hand in her lap, staring at the window.

“Thank you, Doctor,” she said flatly. “That’s not necessary.

Dr. Anderson nodded -sad, understanding and left.

In the corridor, Daniel immediately approached as the door opened.

“How is it?” he asked, voice controlled but with underlying tension. “Is the wound serious?”

Dr. Anderson looked at Daniel with a carefully neutral expression.

“Five stitches,” he said professionally. “A fairly deep wound but clean. I’ve given antibiotics and left pain

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medication though Mrs. Blackwood said she doesn’t need it.”

“She refused pain medication?” Daniel’s jaw tightened.

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“Yes. And-” Dr. Anderson paused, choosing words carefully. “Mr. Blackwood, I must be honest. Mrs. Blackwood’s response to pain was very… unusual. I stitched without local anesthesia because she refused. And she showed no signs of discomfort whatsoever.”

Daniel’s hands clenched at his sides. “What do you mean?”

“Usually, someone with a normal pain threshold will at least show some reaction. Tensing, flinching, change in breathing. But Mrs. Blackwood-” He shook his head. “It was as if she felt nothing. Or more precisely, as if she was already so overwhelmed with other pain that physical pain became… insignificant.”

Those words hit Daniel like a punch to the gut.

“Are you saying she-”

“I’m saying,” Dr. Anderson cut in gently but firmly, “that as a doctor who has treated Mrs. Blackwood for five years, I’ve never seen her like this. And as someone who cares about her well–being, I suggest you pay attention to more than just the physical injury.”

A clear implication. Damning.

Dr. Anderson handed the prescription slip to Daniel.

“Antibiotics and pain medication. Make sure she takes the antibiotics. And Mr. Blackwood-” He looked at Daniel with serious eyes. “Whatever is happening in this house, whatever caused Mrs. Blackwood to reach this state… I hope you can fix it. Before it’s too late.”

He didn’t wait for a response. Just nodded politely and walked toward the stairs.

Daniel stood in the corridor–frozen–with the prescription slip in his slightly trembling hand.

Dr. Anderson’s words echoing in his head.

“As if she was already so overwhelmed with other pain that physical pain became insignificant.”

“I’ve never seen her like this.”

“Before it’s too late.”

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