Love Unspoken

Throughout the ordeal, Alexander remained silent.

In the backseat, Getty squirmed, her body still reeling from the effects of the spiked drink. She occasionally let out a groan or whimper, a sound that would have unsettled most men. But Alexander was different. He was stoic, his demeanor unaffected by the chaos unfolding in the back of his car.

He drove them to the hospital. Upon arrival, he exited the car, opened the back door, and gently lifted Getty into his arms.

"Alexander... I feel sick," Getty murmured, her wrist curling around his neck as she pressed her body against his. Her lips sought his in a desperate attempt for comfort.

"Do you love me...

"You don't have to take responsibility... I want you...

"I don't need anything else, just you..."

Alexander's brow furrowed at her words, and he promptly placed her back into the car. He swiftly removed his tie and used it to bind her hands together.

Getty was momentarily stunned by his actions. But before she could protest, Alexander had scooped her up again and was striding swiftly toward the hospital.

She struggled against his hold at first, but her attempts to break free were futile. Frustrated, she turned her head and bit down on Alexander's arm.

Alexander's face darkened, his patience wearing thin. "Getty, cut it out, or so help me, I'll drop you!"NôvelDrama.Org holds this content.

Getty didn't release her bite, but she blinked up at him, her grip loosening considerably.

...

The following day, Quinn awoke in a state of confusion. Her eyes fluttered open to a pristine white ceiling, her gaze unfocused.

Her mind was foggy, struggling to distinguish between dreams and reality. Gradually, the events of the previous day began to resurface, and her expression subtly shifted. "Quinn, you're awake?" The doctor's delighted voice filled the room.

She turned her neck to face him.

The doctor rushed to her side, extending a thermometer towards her. "Let's check your temperature to see if your fever's broken, shall we?"

Quinn's eyes flickered as she attempted to lift her arm, but she felt utterly drained. She didn't have the strength to even raise her hand.

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Noticing her struggle, the doctor hesitated before placing the thermometer by her mouth. "Just hold this in your mouth, then. Oral readings can be a bit off, but it'll do."

As he nudged the thermometer closer, Quinn managed a weak smile and opened her mouth to hold it.

She watched the doctor bustling about, a fleeting sense of daze mixed with loss washing over her. She had thought she might actually die. Yet, here she was, still alive and subject to the trials of life. Quinn closed her eyes, surrendering to the heaviness in her head. She gave up on trying to think.

After a few minutes, the doctor retrieved the thermometer from her mouth, examining it closely before letting out a sigh of relief.

"Thank goodness, the fever has subsided. We've administered medication, so we'll have to keep an eye on you just in case," he murmured, shaking the thermometer and returning it to the medical kit. He took a seat beside her, his tone cautious as he asked, "Quinn, if you don't mind me asking, have you had a miscarriage before?"

Quinn turned her head slightly toward the doctor, taken aback by his question.

"I mean no offense, just wondering. You're extremely weak right now, and it's crucial for you to recuperate properly," the doctor quickly added.

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"Otherwise..." He trailed off, avoiding drawing any conclusions. His statement was left vague, "It could lead to complications later on."

Quinn remained silent, her gaze fixed on him.

The doctor appeared quite young, probably in his late twenties. He had a full head of hair and wore black-framed glasses. His timid demeanor gave him an endearing quality. After a moment, Quinn wriggled a hand out from under the covers and made a gesture. "Do you understand sign language?"

The doctor stared blankly at her hand, finally admitting with embarrassment, "Quinn...I don't understand."

Her hand fell back, and she made no further movements.

The doctor scratched his head, his expression betraying neither surprise nor any other emotion, which Quinn found somewhat disconcerting.

"Oh yeah, your phone was buzzing all night. Looked like you got some messages. You want to check it?"