Love Unspoken

Gently, Alexander set Quinn down, his phone silenced and discarded. He then took a seat beside her, his presence a quiet accompaniment as she began her meal.

For a moment, Quinn simply stared at him, her utensils untouched. Then, with a silent resignation, she began to eat.

There was an oddity to Alexander's behavior, a peculiar insistence on feeding her. He would extend a Sebastian towards her, and with a reluctant acceptance, she would part her lips to accept the mouthful of corn porridge. Casting a sidelong glance at Alexander, Quinn found herself puzzled by his actions. Regardless of her appetite, he persisted in his feeding, as if she were incapable of eating on her own.

His actions, whether it was bathing her or feeding her, made Quinn feel like a plaything. It reminded her of her own childhood, when she would dress up her dolls and comb their hair. She was his doll now.

After thirty minutes, Quinn found herself unable to consume another bite. She tilted her head, a silent plea for respite.

"Just one more bite. Be a good girl," Alexander coaxed.

With a small pout, Quinn touched her already full belly, forcing herself to swallow the piece of meat despite the nausea threatening to rise.

Suddenly, the tranquility was shattered by the insistent ringing of the doorbell. Quinn blinked in surprise, her gaze shifting to Alexander.

contemplation before he set down his utensils. "You should go upstairs

a word, Quinn rose and began

to answer the door, revealing

as the door swung open, she rushed in, throwing herself into

nearly reached the top of the stairs, instinctively turned at the sound of sobbing. Her eyes widened in disbelief as she took in the sight of Alexander and Getty locked in an embrace. The scene was a harsh reality, a slap to her face that left her disoriented. The man

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like a cruel

Getty and asked, "Why are you

up at him, her voice desperate. "Alexander, are

trust you," Alexander cut her off before

wash over her.

his words, her tears forgotten. "You... do you

strands of hair

sound like a lie, leaving Getty at a loss for words. She felt a surge of guilt and