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Chapter_91
Freya’s expression softened as she looked down at the baby in her arms, her earlier tension dissipating. “Just a bit, but he’s doing better now. Still, I’m glad you’re here.” She turned to Quinn with a faint smile, her eyes momentarily lingering on her. “It’s good to see you up and about, Quinn. How’s your fever?”
Quinn, still feeling the dull ache of her body, nodded faintly. “Better. Thank you.” She didn’t want to talk about her condition any further; her mind was occupied with too many other things. The quiet hum of the evening felt overwhelming, and the more she tried to ignore it, the more it seemed to press on her chest.
Walter, noticing the shift in mood, turned his attention back to Freya. “You didn’t mention that Quinn was still here.” His voice, though calm, carried an underlying curiosity, as if he were trying to piece together something that wasn’t immediately obvious.
Quinn tensed at his words, but she quickly relaxed, not wanting to give away any unease. “I just wanted some time to think,” she explained, her voice calm but distant. “It’s nothing unusual.” She tried to make it sound as though it was a casual decision, though it wasn’t.
Freya glanced at Quinn, her brow slightly furrowed, but she chose not to press any further. Instead, she looked up at Walter, shifting the conversation to lighter topics. “The baby’s been a handful, but nothing we can’t handle.” She laughed softly, her eyes never leaving Walter’s face. “You’re not planning on staying for too long, are you?”
Walter’s expression softened as he gazed at her. “Not unless there’s something important that requires my attention.” He gave her a playful smile, his voice easygoing, though Quinn could sense something else lingering beneath his words.
As the conversation drifted on, Quinn remained an observer, her thoughts swirling. She felt like an outsider here, even in her own skin. The night had been chaotic, but now, in the dim light of the living room, things seemed just as uncertain, as if each person was playing a part in a story they didn’t fully understand.
Freya’s eyes flickered to Quinn once more, her smile tight. “Well, if you need anything, Quinn, don’t hesitate to ask.” Her voice was warm, but Quinn could tell there was something behind it—an unspoken question she wasn’t ready to answer.
Quinn gave her a small nod. “Thank you,” she replied softly, her mind already elsewhere. She had no desire to get involved in Freya’s complicated web of suspicions or to add another layer to the tension that seemed to hang in the air whenever Walter was near.
As she excused herself and made her way back upstairs, Quinn couldn’t shake the feeling that things were spiraling in ways she couldn’t control. Between her own turmoil, the undercurrents in the Kennedy household, and the unresolved tension between her and Alexander, it seemed like she was caught in a web of her own making.
Lying in bed later, the quiet of the villa pressing down on her, Quinn’s thoughts wandered back to Alexander’s sudden shift in demeanor. The anger in his eyes earlier had been sharp, unnerving even. It made her question what lay beneath the surface of his calm exterior, especially when it came to matters like Quinn and a potential pregnancy.
For all his coldness, there was something unspoken between them, something that lingered in the spaces between their interactions. Was it truly indifference, or was it fear? The possibility of a future, of consequences neither of them could foresee, felt daunting in its complexity. Quinn wasn’t sure she could untangle it.
