Love Unspoken
Chapter 356

Reality abruptly reasserted itself and Quinn quickly stooped to gather the shards of broken glass scattered across the floor. Soren, however, swiftly intervened, raising a hand in a halting gesture. "Allow me," he insisted, "you should sit." His audacity in guiding her movements left Quinn feeling a strange unease, but she complied nonetheless, crossing the room to sink into the plush embrace of the sofa.

Once Soren had cleared away the remnants of the shattered glass, he poured a fresh glass of water and handed it to her. Retrieving a first aid kit, he set about rebandaging her wound with a quiet grumble of disapproval. "Whoever did this initially neglected to apply any ointment and bound it far too tightly. Were they hoping for an infection?" He questioned, his tone laced with irritation.

His words hung in the air for a moment before he glanced up, catching the hesitant look in Quinn's eyes. His own widened in realization. "Could it have been Alexander?" He queried, to which Quinn responded with a tight nod. Soren immediately fell silent, hastily assuring her, "I didn't say anything."

With the bandaging task completed, Soren regarded Quinn with a worried gaze. "Quinn, are you feeling unwell? Is that why you can't sleep? Let me check." His fingers found her wrist, his brow furrowing in concentration as he sought a reason for her insomnia. Her frailty, combined with a myriad of other factors, made it difficult to pinpoint a cause.

Eventually, he released her, coughing slightly to clear his throat. "You're just overthinking things. Try not to worry so much, relax."

Quinn's gaze dropped to her hands in her lap, her mind echoing his words. Was she overthinking? She hadn't been consciously dwelling on anything in particular, unsure of what she should even be contemplating. How could she be overthinking?

Soren urged her to return to bed, his mind filled with the fear of Alexander discovering them in the living room in the middle of the night. The thought of Alexander's potential wrath sent a shiver down his spine, prompting him to push even harder for her to retreat to the bedroom. Quinn, unable to resist his insistence, reluctantly complied.

However, sleep eluded her. She spent the night sitting up in bed, the sound of the rain outside her only companion. Alexander had been absent for two days, and Quinn had remained at home, not venturing to the office. This time, though, she wasn't alone. Soren was there, not only monitoring her condition but also taking on the role of her personal chef.

His culinary skills were passable, and despite her diminished appetite, Quinn managed to consume a few bites of the meals he prepared. Her injured fingers were also showing signs of improvement. During one of his bandage changes, Soren informed her that the wound was healing nicely and her nails were regenerating at a rapid pace.

Quinn examined her fingers, noting the purplish hue of the nails on her three injured digits. It looked as though they had been painted with a colorful polish. Soren, wearing an awkward expression, asked, "Quinn, how did you get this injury? How did it even affect your nails?" Quinn paused, her lips pursing as she shot Soren a resentful glance.

Soren quickly apologized, "Sorry, I overstepped."

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He could tell from the wound that it had been caused by a piercing object, but he was at a loss as to what kind of accident could result in three fingers being impaled so precisely. The more he thought about it, the more he realized it was unlikely to have been an accident. It must have been deliberate. What had Quinn been through?

From the moment he met Quinn, her health had been precarious, and now she had this peculiar injury. As Soren was lost in his thoughts, Alexander suddenly appeared in the doorway. He was coated in dust, still clad in the same clothes he'd been wearing when he left. His black suit and shirt were wrinkled at the collar from lack of change.

Quinn looked up to see him striding towards her. Sensing the tension, Soren tactfully retreated. Quinn opened her mouth to speak, but the icy expression on Alexander's face made her swallow her words. Alexander's gaze bore into her, the silence stretching on until, in an instant, all traces of his negative emotions vanished. He took a seat beside Quinn.

"Are you feeling better?" It wasn't the first time he had asked. Quinn nodded and gestured, her message clear: I'm fine now. We can proceed with the divorce at any time.