Love Unspoken

The digital representation of the individual was an avatar clad in a black suit, the username simply "N." Quinn was on the brink of perusing his social media profile when he preempted her, sending a message, "Hello, are you in need of legal assistance?"This confirmed her suspicion. He was indeed a lawyer, rendering any further investigation into his social media presence unnecessary.

As Quinn deliberated on how to respond, "N" dispatched another message, "Not many possess this number, so you must have been recommended by a mutual acquaintance. I'm at your service."

His eagerness seemed incongruent with the demeanor one might typically expect from a formidable lawyer. Her fingers quivered over the keys as she typed, "I require some advice. What should I address you as?"

"N" responded, "You can address me as Nicholas."Quinn promptly saved his contact information under the name Nicholas. She was about to relay her predicament when the sound of footsteps at the door startled her. She swiftly stowed her phone in her pocket.

Turning, she confirmed her suspicion. It was Alexander at the door. Rising from the couch with a newfound urgency, Quinn's gaze was fixed on the entrance. Alexander shrugged off his coat and made a beeline for her, discarding the garment onto the sofa as he closed the distance.

"What was your business at the hospital today?" Alexander's countenance betrayed nothing, his expression unreadable. It was challenging to discern whether his question was borne out of concern or suspicion.

Quinn hesitated before responding, "Just a minor cold.""A cold?" he echoed. She confirmed with a nod. An uncomfortable silence ensued, broken only when Alexander's gaze abruptly fell on a business card on the coffee table. Quinn's heart fluttered in panic, and as she moved to retrieve it, Alexander beat her to it. He scrutinized the card before casting her a loaded glance.Content © provided by NôvelDrama.Org.

A single bead of sweat trickled down her anxious forehead. She wondered, 'Could he sense something was amiss?'

To her relief, Alexander merely glanced at her before carelessly tossing the card back onto the table, "If you're unwell, rest and retire early." With that, he turned and ascended the staircase.

Quinn released a long, relieved sigh, picked up the business card, and ripped it into shreds before discarding it into the trash. Her thoughts drifted to the untouched dinner, and she inspected the kitchen. The refrigerator was filled with groceries, courtesy of Juliet. The thought of Juliet only served to dampen Quinn's spirits further.

She prepared pasta mechanically, serving two portions before realizing that Alexander might have already eaten. Alone at the dining table, Quinn quietly consumed her pasta. The other plate of pasta gradually cooled, its contents drying and crumbling.

After cleaning up, taking her medication, and settling on the sofa for the night, she woke the following day to find Alexander gone and a blanket draped over her.

On the dining table, the untouched pasta remained, now stone-cold. For some reason, the sight of it sent a dull pang through her heart, as if something precious had slowly grown cold, just like the bowl of pasta.

A sudden pain lanced through her temples, and her vision blurred. Grasping the edge of the table, she eased herself onto a chair, narrowly avoiding a fall. This was not the first time she had experienced such unexplained bouts of dizziness and fainting spells. After regaining her composure, Quinn changed and made her way to the office.