Love Unspoken

Getty's smile froze, turning into an awkward grimace before she forced it back into a strained smile. "I was just kidding! Why so serious? You really had me going," she said, her laugh nervous. Alexander's lips curled into a slight smile. "Me too, just joking."

The restaurant was was buzzing with people coming and going. But in the middle of it all, Quinn sat alone, waiting for hours with no sign of Alexander.

She rested her chin in her hand, her gaze fixed on the window, watching the multitude of lights gradually fade as the once-bustling streets grew sparse and deserted.

As the restaurant emptied, it was as if the tide had receded, leaving behind a desolate silence. The world outside darkened, and the restaurant lights dimmed until none remained. The person who had promised to celebrate her birthday with her never appeared.

"Mrs. Kennedy?" A voice called from behind her.

Startled, Quinn was brought back to reality. She turned to see the Manager standing beside her, accompanied by two waitstaff. "We're closing up for the night," he explained, a smile on his face.

Quinn was slow to comprehend. She looked around at the dimly lit interior, only to realize she was the last patron left. Disappointment didn't quite encapsulate her feelings. It was more akin to a familiar sense of emptiness.

The wait hadn't been long, not really. Compared to the endless days and nights spent alone in an empty house, five hours was nothing.

As Quinn prepared to leave, a server appeared with a cake. "Mrs. Kennedy, since today is your birthday, we have a cake prepared for you," said the waiter, placing it before her. "Happy Birthday."

The Manager suggested, "It's almost midnight. Please enjoy your cake and make a wish before you go."

The flickering candles cast a warm glow on the cake's surface, but Quinn saw only pity in the Manager's eyes.

She forced a smile, though it was more weary than cheerful. 'Happy Birthday, Quinn,' she thought, her eyes closed. She made no wishes. In her experience, making wishes in front of birthday cakes never seemed to work out.

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The Manager sighed quietly as he watched her frail silhouette. He had seen her sitting there for hours after a man had made arrangements and promised someone would arrive. Yet after five hours, no one came. Being stood up on her birthday, he thought, was truly pitiful.

Quinn opened her eyes and blew out the candles. The Manager immediately helped her slice the cake. She divided it up, and the Manager, chuckling, accepted his piece. He took out a plastic figurine from his pocket and handed it to her. "This is a little keepsake from our diner. Consider it a birthday gift from us."

Quinn looked at the miniature figure, smiled, and nodded her thanks. It was then the Manager realized she was mute.

Not wanting to overstay, Quinn took a bite of the cake. But as the rich, buttery cream hit her palate, her stomach churned.

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Clenching her teeth, she forced it down. Daring not to take another bite, she pulled out her phone and typed a message to the Manager, "Thank you all. I've got to head out." "Mrs. Kennedy, please take care. Would you like us to box up the cake for you?" he offered.

Though she couldn't stomach it, Quinn nodded for them to pack it up.

Carrying the boxed cake out of the restaurant, she headed straight for a nearby trash bin and retched. It wasn't until she expelled the creamy contents of her stomach that she felt some relief. The nighttime breeze was icy as it rolled off Amber Bay, damp and chilling to the bone. The tip of her nose reddened.

She walked alone on the scarcely populated sidewalk, her elongated shadow cast by the dim streetlights. Step by step, she moved forward, stepping across her own shadow.