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Chapter_39
Abigail’s frustration boiled over as she gripped the phone tighter, her fingers trembling with anger and helplessness. “I can’t stay locked up here any longer, Oliver! I need to see Alexander! I have to fix this, whatever this mess is,” she nearly screamed, her voice shaky with emotion.
On the other end, Oliver’s tone was cold, but there was a hint of concern buried under his frustration. “You can’t just waltz in and out like nothing happened. It’s not that simple, Abigail. You know this.”
Abigail slammed her hand against the desk, her eyes fiery with defiance. “Then get him to talk to me, Oliver. This has gone on long enough. I’m done being pushed aside. I need answers.”
There was a long pause before Oliver responded. “I’ll try to get him to talk to you when he gets back. But you’re not going to like what happens if you keep pushing.”
Abigail’s breathing was heavy, but she managed to collect herself. “I don’t care about the consequences anymore, Oliver. I need to know why everything’s falling apart. Why Alexander’s so distant, why everything feels like it’s breaking.”
Oliver sighed deeply. “I get it. I do. But pushing too hard right now won’t do anyone any good.” His voice softened slightly, a rare moment of vulnerability. “Just… give him some space. You’re not the only one dealing with all of this.”
Abigail’s grip on the phone tightened once more, but this time, there was a flicker of doubt in her expression. She had wanted to fight—to scream at him to fix everything—but Oliver’s words planted a seed of uncertainty in her mind.
Her voice lowered, barely a whisper. “Do you think… do you think Alexander’s going to fix things? Or am I just waiting for something that will never come?”
Oliver didn’t respond right away. He could hear the rawness in her voice, and it shook him more than he expected. After a long pause, he finally spoke. “I don’t know, Abigail. But he’s dealing with a lot of his own… issues right now. Maybe you both just need time to figure things out. Without all the pressure.”
Abigail fell silent. The weight of his words lingered, but it wasn’t the resolution she had been hoping for. She didn’t want time; she wanted answers, closure. Her world felt like it was spiraling, and waiting wasn’t going to fix it.
Meanwhile, back at the Villa, Alexander was grappling with his own conflict. He hadn’t expected to be this restless. The echoes of Quinn’s pain—her helplessness, her confusion—played over and over in his mind. He had locked her away, thinking it would teach her a lesson, but instead, all he felt was a gnawing sense of guilt creeping in. Had he gone too far? Was he losing her?
He wasn’t ready to confront his own feelings just yet. The situation with Quinn had become far more complicated than he had anticipated. His emotions, buried beneath layers of control and reason, were now threatening to break free.
Alexander shook his head, trying to clear the thoughts. The drive to the office loomed ahead, and as much as he wanted to call Quinn and apologize for his actions, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Not yet. Not when his mind was clouded by doubt and frustration.
Back at the Villa, Quinn remained in the storage room, her body numb from the cold and her mind a jumbled mess of emotions. Every movement she made, every breath she took, seemed to pull her further into the abyss of isolation. She could feel the weight of Alexander’s absence bearing down on her. She needed him, but she also resented him for what he had done.
In the darkness, Quinn made a silent vow: she would find a way out of this. No matter how deep the darkness, she would fight for the freedom she needed. She wouldn’t stay trapped, not by Alexander, not by anyone.
And as she waited, a single thought pulsed in her mind: I won’t be forgotten. I won’t let this break me.
