Love Unspoken

A sudden surge of terror seized Soren, his fingers trembling uncontrollably, causing the pill he held to tumble onto the ground.

His fear heightened as he swiveled around to find a man looming behind him, his face an icy mask. The man's eyes bore into Soren, as though attempting to penetrate his very soul. "Why aren't you speaking?" Alexander asked.

Soren swallowed hard, darting a quick glance at Quinn before he stammered out, "She has a disease that makes her body cold."

"Is that a disease?"Ccontent © exclusive by Nô/vel(D)ra/ma.Org.

"Yes," Soren confirmed, "but aside from the chill, Quinn also suffers from a severe uterine disease. If left untreated, it could prevent her from conceiving in the future."

He wasn't fabricating tales; this was the harsh reality. Quinn was plagued by multiple illnesses, but he had only disclosed the two least severe ones.

Alexander's voice still didn't reveal any of his emotions as he responded, "Is that so?" Yet, it was this very lack of emotion that sent chills down Soren's spine.

"Yes, Alexander," he asserted, "I am the most accomplished student my grandfather ever taught. Don't you believe me?"

After a moment of contemplation, Soren chose to remain silent, deciding to gauge the situation before speaking further. They were, after all, divorced.

What if Alexander's disdain for Quinn intensified upon learning of her illness?

For the time being, Quinn seemed to have put the matter aside. She wouldn't instigate a confrontation, and with Alexander looking after her, she was in safer hands. Alexander's gaze swept over Soren's face before he turned away to answer a phone call.

But before he departed, he instructed Soren, "Cook her a meal."

"Alright..." Soren exhaled a sigh.

Once again, he was to play the role of a chef.

He retrieved the fallen pill, dusted it off with his sleeve, and placed it back into Quinn's hand, whispering, "Take this quickly."

Quinn nodded, reaching for the glass of water on the table and discreetly swallowing the pill. Upon noticing the wound on her wrist, her heart fluttered in alarm. She found herself envisioning the cause of the injury.

Perhaps Alexander had discovered her illness, and in a desperate attempt to resist divorce, she had threatened him by self-harming. This could explain his intense hatred for her, his decision to abandon her among dogs, his desire to see her dead.

As this realization dawned on her, Quinn was consumed by despair. No wonder he had labeled her as shameless. Quinn hadn't even been aware of her own audacity. If her assumptions were correct, his hatred was indeed justified, wasn't it? With these thoughts swirling in her mind, Quinn glanced towards the doorway. It was empty; Alexander had disappeared. He must have left.

But according to his conversation with Soren, he didn't know about her illness. Then why?

After inspecting the kitchen, Soren departed to purchase groceries. The kitchen had been barren for several days, devoid of any food. And with Soren's departure, the villa was plunged into silence.

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The white cloths covering most of the furniture remained untouched, painting a blank canvas within the house, emanating an aura of desolation. Everything around her seemed to echo the harsh truth - she no longer belonged here. Quinn instinctively settled onto the sofa, curling up and absentmindedly tracing the edge of the cushion. After a while, Alexander returned, bearing a bag of fruit. Quinn watched him intently as he carried the fruit into the kitchen, later emerging with a fruit platter which he placed on the coffee table.

His actions seemed to infuse a hint of warmth into the otherwise cold villa. Alexander took a seat beside her, turning to face her as he asked, "Are you in pain?" Quinn shook her head.

"Then don't sleep here, go upstairs," he said. Quinn rose from the sofa, signaling to him that she would depart shortly. Alexander remained silent, his deep black eyes fixated on her. A flicker of anger was evident on his otherwise impassive face.

Feeling a wave of anxiety under his intense gaze, Quinn hastily gestured again, indicating, "I will leave right away."

A bitter laugh escaped Alexander, a sound born of anger.