Love Unspoken

Images whirled before her, ultimately freezing into a grotesque tableau of mangled flesh.

A thought bubbled up from the depths of her mind, 'The baby must have been in so much pain, huh?' Quinn's heart ached at the thought.Closing her eyes, she pressed the cold steel of the knife against her wrist.

A crimson line bloomed on her skin, whispering promises of release with just a slight pull. Just then, her cell phone buzzed in her pocket. Blinking her eyes open, she stared at the knife for a moment before fishing out her phone. It was a message from Abigail. The message she had been anxiously waiting for had arrived at such a critical moment.

Quinn's eyelashes fluttered as she opened WhatsApp and played the voice message. Abigail's voice, slurred as if she'd been drinking, came through with a light sigh, "Quinn, am I just really stupid? Alexander called me an idiot, and he's probably right.""Why should someone this stupid like me even be alive? I'm just wasting air and food. I might as well be dead.

"The knife clattered to the floor from Quinn's limp grip. She quickly typed, "Where are you?" But Abigail didn't respond. Quinn sent message after message to no avail. She scrolled through her contacts and located Spencer's profile. She sent Spencer a flurry of texts. Spencer was close to Abigail. He wouldn't just leave her to die.A while later, Spencer replied."Quinn, don't worry. You know how Abigail is. She wouldn't actually seek death. She's just talking, that's all. People who truly want to die don't talk about it. Don't stress too much. I'm on my way to find her. Take care of yourself! Abigail is always scaring you. One of these days, we'll make her treat you to something nice, and we'll milk it for all it's worth!" Hearing Spencer's words, Quinn glanced down at the paring knife on the floor but couldn't muster the courage to pick it up. Perhaps it was Spencer's upbeat tone that pierced the gloom around her and offered a glimmer of light. It made her feel like the world wasn't as bad as it seemed.-

Meanwhile, Alexander drove through the night, his cell phone buzzing repeatedly beside him, but he ignored it.NôvelDrama.Org holds this content.

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Soon, he reached Getty's house and skillfully entered the security code. Pushing open the door, he was greeted by sobbing from within."Housekeeper, don't try to stop me! No one cares about me. No one would miss me if I'm gone. I can't see the point in living anymore!"Getty was clutching a paring knife, attempting to slash at her wrists while the housekeeper desperately held her hands."Getty, please calm down! If anything happens to you, Mr. Kennedy will punish me ruthlessly!""Let go! If I want to die, that's my own business, not yours!"

In the midst of their struggle, the housekeeper looked up to see Alexander standing in the doorway of the kitchen. His hair was slightly ruffled, his clothes still damp.

His expression was somber, and a chill seemed to cling to him."Mr. Kennedy," the housekeeper frantically signaled with her eyes to Getty. " Mr. Kennedy's here."Getty paused for a second and spoke defiantly, "So what if he's here! Can he really control whether I live or die?"

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With that, she moved to cut her wrist. Alexander, however, remained still. Getty, with the knife in hand, suddenly found herself in an awkward spot. Fortunately, she had her back facing Alexander, so he couldn't see that she was only pretending, with the back of the knife against her wrist.Getty's defiance slowly ebbed away. She might have doubted if Alexander was even there if not for the chilling presence behind her.

She exchanged glances with the housekeeper.

The housekeeper looked perplexed as if to say, 'You asked for it. Now live with it.'

"Why don't you do it?"

Alexander's voice finally broke the silence. There was a subtle annoyance in his voice.