Love Unspoken

With a swift motion, Quinn seized the phone from Doctor Miller, her head shaking in adamant denial. Observing her vehement reaction, a wave of frustration and concern washed over the doctor. "Quinn!" he exclaimed, "It's your own body we're talking about. Can't you think about yourself for once?"

Yet, Quinn remained steadfast, her head shaking in a rhythm that left Doctor Miller confounded by her obstinacy.

She pressed down on his phone with a decisive gesture, and a glimmer of understanding dawned on him. "You still don't want me to tell him?" he asked. Quinn responded with a nod, a silent plea for him to put the phone away. After a moment of internal struggle, Doctor Miller sighed in resignation, placing the phone down. "Alright," he conceded, "If you don't want me to say anything, then I won't."

As he put his phone away, Quinn retrieved hers and typed a message for him to see: It wasn't him.

Doctor Miller stared at the words, a faint blush of embarrassment creeping onto his face before he let out an awkward chuckle. "Oh? Ha ha... my apologies."

"Let me change your dressing," he said, shifting gears and opening his medical bag to tend to Quinn's facial wounds.

The remaining injury was on her knee. Quinn was clad in a nightgown that could easily be hitched up to reveal the wound.

Doctor Miller was taken aback. "How did this happen?" he asked, but Quinn merely shook her head, indicating her unwillingness to discuss it.

Respecting her silence, Doctor Miller carefully removed the gauze from her leg, which had adhered to the wound due to its severity.

"Oh my, Quinn, we can't change this; it might cause further damage," he remarked, concern etched on his face.

He snipped the surrounding gauze, "I'll remove the top layer and add a new one. Let it fall off on its own after the wound crusts over."

Quinn nodded in agreement; she had already felt a twinge of pain when Doctor Miller was cutting the gauze and was relieved to hear his decision.

Once he finished re-bandaging her, he added, "I'll come back tomorrow to check on you. Make sure to keep it dry, okay?"

She thanked him with another nod.

After Doctor Miller's departure, Quinn found herself alone again, ensconced on the couch, aimlessly flipping through television channels and scrolling through her phone.

Ever since their last exchange, Abigail had ceased messaging her. Quinn glanced at her contact info, yearning to ask where she was, but restrained herself. Instead, she pulled up Abigail's social media feed. Recently, Abigail had been posting a flurry of updates-picturesque landscapes and candid selfies.

Each caption bore the same message: Visible to you only.

Quinn's eyes welled up at those four words.

She tapped on a photo. There was Abigail, captured in a selfie at the shore with seagulls soaring behind her, the breeze tousling her short hair, her grin wide and carefree.

Quinn caressed the screen, pondering if Abigail had taken these shots solely for her.

But instead of sending a private message, Abigail had chosen to share publicly.

As she scrolled through the images, Quinn felt a sudden warmth envelop her. Somewhere in the world, someone cared deeply for her, affirming her existence.

After viewing them all, Quinn liked each photo-a silent acknowledgement of Abigail's silent declaration.

Somewhere out there, a smile graced Abigail's lips upon seeing the recognition.

Knowing that The Vanderbilts hadn't suffered any fallout because of her actions, Abigail felt a newfound lightness in her steps, especially since Quinn had declined her invitation to travel the world. Well, if Quinn wouldn't come see the world with her, she'd bring the world to Quinn-in pictures, making it as if Quinn had seen it too.

When Alexander returned, he found her clutching her phone, tears streaking down her face.

He lingered, unnoticed for a moment, before shattering the silence.

"You didn't lock the door?"

His voice startled her, causing her phone to tumble to the floor.Text content © NôvelDrama.Org.

He caught a glimpse of their conversation on the screen-unfinished texts laid bare.