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..."

if she caused any inconvenience." "Right then," Mrs. Jenkins said with an uneasy smile that faded into a sigh of relief, "Glad to hear that's settled. I

to Mrs. Jenkins, frantically gesturing an apology: "Sorry, I didn't mean

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had meant to do it. She couldn't risk Mrs. Jenkins revealing her

message, laughed it off awkwardly, "No worries, dear. I'll take care of this mess later. You should go now that your husband is here

her hand and led

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

turned stormy as

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met his fierce gaze, her eyes watering under

"Who taught you to act like this?" Quinn managed a weak smile through her tears, pulling her hand away. "No one. You don't care where I go. Why can't I leave?"