Love Unspoken

In the persistent glow of the lights, Alexander watched Quinn wince, his actions momentarily stilled by her reaction. He gently grasped her wrist, rolling up the sleeve of her blouse to reveal an array of scrapes and a bruise of concerning size. His fingers traced the edge of her collar, pulling it down to expose another bruise marring her shoulder. He looked up, his gaze meeting hers. Quinn's eyes fluttered closed, her lips parting ever so slightly. It took a beat for her to gather the strength to respond.

"Why didn't you treat this?" Alexander questioned, peeling back a bandage to reveal an untreated wound beneath. Quinn's eyes fluttered open, a mask of resilience hiding the pain etched on her face as she signed, "It's nothing. Not serious." She had hesitated to apply any medication, acutely aware of the potential impact on their unborn child, who was in a delicate state.Alexander got off the bed and rummaged through their drawers and cabinets. He returned moments later, his hands conspicuously empty.

"Where's our first-aid kit?" he inquired, a note of frustration creeping into his voice. It was always Quinn who kept their home in order, a fact that struck him as ironic given his unfamiliarity with his own home.

Quinn merely shook her head in response. She had made the decision to forgo any medication, signing, "We don't have a first-aid kit."A frown creased Alexander's forehead as he moved to guide her towards the door. "Let's just go to the hospital then," he suggested.Quinn paused, rapidly dismissing his suggestion with a flurry of frantic gestures.

scabbed over," she signed, her movements quick and precise. "I'm tired. I want to sleep," she added.Alexander scrutinized her for

off to sleep. The bedroom light remained on, its intrusive glare a testament to Alexander's aversion to darkness. Over time, the light in

married three years ago. Sharing a room, it was the first time Alexander had kissed her. Quinn had looked at him with a naive expression, while Alexander had stared back for a long while, admitting it felt like he was committing

love between a man and a woman was confirmed. So, she obediently followed his lead. But she later realized that wasn't love. It was lust, a marital duty. She was told that such intimacies could be just as sensual without love. Love and sex were never the same thing. When Quinn

instinct was to check her phone, but her friend Abigail still hadn't responded. Quinn's heart sank as her messages seemed to have disappeared into a void. She understood that Abigail might blame

blaring since the evening before. She cranked up the volume, but even that couldn't mask the chill emptiness of