Love Unspoken

A tall, slender figure stood in the doorway, his face obscured by the backlighting, making it difficult for Quinn to see him clearly.

She tightened her grip on the plate she was holding. Quinn was puzzled by Alexander's sudden appearance. 'Hadn't he moved on to a happy life with Getty by now?' "Having fun?" His voice cut through the silence, casual as if her absence had been a mere caprice.

The diner's owner's wife, Mrs. Jenkins, looked on in confusion, her eyes flicking between them. "And who might you be to Quinn?" she inquired instinctively. "I'm her husband," he declared.

Mrs. Jenkins's mouth dropped open in shock, her assumptions shattered.

She had pictured Quinn's husband as a lazy, domineering type, not this attractive, charismatic man. "Quinn said you didn't want her anymore, so why are you here?" she asked bluntly. Alexander turned slightly to glance at the woman, "Did she say that?"

Mrs. Jenkins hesitated, sensing the complexity of the situation."Well..."

into a sigh of relief, "Glad to hear that's settled. I was worried she

gesturing

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she knew she had meant to do it. She

care of this mess later. You

who took her hand and led her out

the villa was silent. Returning to the cold, opulent house felt starkly different from the warm,

changed; his expression turned

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Quinn winced, feeling her jaw might dislocate. She met his fierce gaze,

managed a weak smile through her tears, pulling her hand away. "No one.