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.

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

rose and began her

moved to answer the door, revealing a drenched Getty on the

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

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

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emotions felt like

meanwhile, looked down at Getty and

her face, Getty looked up at him, her voice desperate. "Alexander, are

trust you," Alexander cut her off before

bear the sight any longer, Quinn felt a wave of nausea wash over her. She rushed to the bathroom, clutching the toilet as

was momentarily stunned by his words, her tears forgotten. "You... do you

the damp strands of hair from her face,

leaving Getty at a loss for words. She felt a surge of guilt and sadness at the realization that