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Chapter_42
The sight of the Bentley made Oliver’s jaw tighten. He had hoped to avoid any confrontation, especially with Alexander, but the car was an undeniable signal that the man was somehow involved in Quinn’s ordeal. The tension in the air seemed to grow thicker as Quinn’s steps slowed, her body tense, though she still hadn’t fully processed the situation. Her silence spoke volumes. The uncertainty in her eyes mirrored Oliver’s own frustration.
“Do you want to talk to him?” Oliver asked, his voice low, though the question was more for himself than for Quinn. He had no idea what the interaction would be like, but it was clear that whatever had happened had left Quinn unsettled—and Alexander’s presence would only complicate things further.
Quinn didn’t respond, her gaze fixed on the Bentley, her thoughts clouded. Oliver’s eyes narrowed as the car door opened, revealing Alexander’s tall, imposing figure. His gaze swept over the scene, landing on Quinn with an unreadable expression. There was something almost casual in the way he approached them, but it did nothing to ease the growing tension.
“Quinn,” Alexander’s voice was flat, distant, though there was a slight edge to it that didn’t escape Oliver’s attention. “I didn’t expect you to leave so soon.”
Quinn stiffened at his voice, her instinct to retreat tugging at her. But instead of giving in to the urge, she stood her ground. There was no denying the lingering pain she felt from him, but there was also a need to face him, to understand why things had come to this.
“I don’t need your help,” Quinn finally said, her voice surprisingly steady, though the vulnerability in her eyes was unmistakable.
Alexander’s expression shifted slightly, a flicker of something—guilt, perhaps—crossing his features. But before he could respond, Oliver spoke up, his tone sharp, “You did this to her, Alexander. You pushed her to this point.”
Alexander’s eyes flicked to Oliver, a brief flash of annoyance crossing his face. “I’m not here for a lecture from you, Oliver,” he muttered, clearly frustrated.
Quinn shot a glance at Oliver, silently begging him to back off. She didn’t want any more drama. She didn’t want Alexander’s guilt, his words, or his empty apologies.
She took a step forward, her movements slow but deliberate, before she looked back at Alexander, “I need to know what happened. How did I end up in the hospital?” Her voice was quieter now, the question hanging in the air like a weight.
Alexander hesitated, his gaze flickering to Oliver before returning to Quinn. “You fainted. Your heart was irregular,” he explained, though his tone lacked the warmth of concern it might have once held. “I thought it was best to get you checked out.”
Quinn didn’t know whether to be comforted or frustrated. He was still treating her as if she were just some problem to be fixed. But she wasn’t sure if she was more upset with Alexander or herself—for even caring.
Oliver, sensing the delicate balance of the situation, stepped in again. “She’s not just a problem, Alexander. She’s a person. She’s your wife. You should have been there for her.”
For a moment, there was an uncomfortable silence. Alexander’s eyes darkened, but Quinn felt the weight of his words hanging between them. He hadn’t been there for her—hadn’t even given her a chance to voice her pain. And the more she thought about it, the more she realized that maybe he never truly would.
“You’re right, Oliver,” Alexander finally said, his voice low, almost reluctant. “But it’s more complicated than you think.”
Quinn didn’t want to hear it. She couldn’t. Her heart had been shattered too many times by his indifference, and it was time for her to face the truth, even if it was the hardest thing she’d ever done.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said, her voice firm as she turned away from him. “I don’t need to know anymore.”
Oliver shot a look at Alexander, his patience wearing thin. “You’re lucky she even wants to talk to you at all,” he muttered under his breath before leading Quinn towards the car, trying to shield her from the confrontation.
As they got in, the car door closing with a soft click, Quinn stared out the window, her face blank. She didn’t want to look back—at Alexander, at the past, at everything that had led her here. All she wanted was to find a way forward, even if she had to do it alone.
“Let’s go home,” she whispered quietly, her voice barely audible above the hum of the engine. Oliver nodded, glancing at her before driving away, the heavy silence lingering in the air between them.
