Love Unspoken

"I want to go home."

"Home? Which home?"

Once more, Quinn froze as his words reminded her - she had no home.

The Kennedys wasn't her home.

However, wherever Alexander was, that was her home.

With determination blazing in her eyes, Quinn rose unsteadily and made her way outside.

After only a couple of steps, her wrist was grabbed, causing her to turn around anxiously. The world suddenly spun before her, and by the time she reacted, she found herself in his arms. She struggled briefly but to no avail.

In this manner, the man firmly carried her downstairs, shoved her into the car, and slammed the door shut.

Dizzy and disoriented, Quinn lacked the strength even to unfasten the seatbelt.

Alexander got into the car and drove her to the hospital.

Quinn was subjected to some examinations conducted by an esteemed old professor whom Alexander had arranged to come from home-a retired but unquestionably skilled professor. Several of this professor's students had since become notable professors or doctors.

The professor, with glasses perched on his nose, had to squint to review the examination reports.

Flustered, Quinn sat beside him, casting occasional glances outside, contemplating an escape.

While the professor scrutinized the results, she tugged on Alexander's sleeve. When he looked her way, she gestured, indicating her need to use the restroom.

"No, endure it," he callously denied her.

Quinn bit her lip, lowering her head, growing further convinced in her heart that this person wasn't Alexander.

Her Alexander wouldn't be so harsh.

Setting the results aside, the professor stroked his white-bearded chin as Alexander inquired, "How is she?"

After assessing Quinn, the professor analyzed, "Based on the reports, this young woman's condition appears to be vascular cognitive impairment."

"What does that mean?"

"It's quite complex, with various reasons. Simply put, it's a disorder resulting from brain tissue damage."

"It could be due to external physical trauma or prolonged emotional distress, triggering underlying conditions."All content © N/.ôvel/Dr/ama.Org.

Glancing at Quinn, Alexander fell silent for a moment before asking, "She's been forgetting rapidly recently."

The professor stroked his beard, explaining, "In cases of emotional distress, rapid forgetfulness is common. Memory decline can be severe, particularly when associated with distressing events that one wishes to forget." "Distressing events?" Alexander gazed at Quinn, observing her desire to escape. He scoffed.

Were the three years of marriage with him all distressing events?

Merely moments ago, Alexander had almost confirmed that her current memory span had regressed to a time before their marriage.

He inquired further, "Will she continue to forget as rapidly as before?"

Shaking his head, the professor replied, "It's uncertain. This condition lacks a definitive professional conclusion. We'll need to wait a few days to reassess."

With that, he took out a piece of paper and a pen and began to write a prescription.

Taking the prescription, Alexander rose and took Quinn's arm, leading her out.

Quinn resisted, refusing to walk with him.

Alexander warned her with a glance, causing Quinn to frown - she detested this man with a face resembling Alexander's.

Her disdain was glaring, causing the man beside her to snap.

He pulled Quinn into his arms, grasped her chin, and growled, "Don't look at me like that!"

Struggling, Quinn attempted to gesture, but the man lifted her.

In frustration, she turned her head and bit down on his shoulder.

Unfortunately, she didn't have much strength now, so the man didn't feel much from her biting..

Swiftly, he placed Quinn in the car just as she stubbornly tried to undo her seatbelt.

Pressing her hand down, Alexander narrowed his eyes, a hint of danger seeping into his gaze. "What are you up to?"

Quinn wriggled free, gesturing. "I need to find Alexander."

A breeze blew by, leaving Alexander standing frozen in place, his hands braced on either side of Quinn's figure.

They were close yet so far away.

The most sorrowful thing in the world was that, at 29, he stood before her while she sought the 20-year-old version of him. Would she find the 20-year-old Alexander?

Even Alexander himself seemed unable to find him.