Love Unspoken

In the grand scheme of life, the lifespan of a pet was but a fleeting moment, a brief existence that spanned merely a decade or two at best.

On this particular day, the anticipated visit from the doctor was scheduled for the afternoon. Quinn had spent the morning ensconced in the peaceful embrace of sleep, stirring only when the insistent chime of the doorbell echoed through the confines of her apartment. With a sigh, she dragged her weary body out of bed and trudged towards the door to welcome her visitor.

Upon her opening of the door, the doctor stepped in, his medical bag clutched in his hand and a professional smile gracing his features. "Good afternoon, Quinn. How have you been faring these past few days?" he asked.

A semblance of a smile flickered across Quinn's lips, a feeble attempt to mask the inner turmoil that roiled within her.

The doctor, however, did not anticipate a response. His inquiry was more of a courtesy than a genuine probe into her wellbeing. He stepped further into the apartment, setting down his bag and gesturing for Quinn to sit on the couch so he could check her pulse. As his fingers pressed against her wrist, his smile gradually faded.

He glanced at Quinn, his expression a complex mix of concern and confusion. "How come... it's worse than last time?" he asked, his voice laced with worry. Quinn remained silent, her lips pressed into a thin line as she stared at him, unblinking.

Growing increasingly anxious, the doctor implored, "Quinn, you need to cheer up, and... you know, your vitality hasn't recovered yet." His words were gentle, yet they carried an underlying message that Quinn understood all too well. A flush of embarrassment warmed her ears as she quietly withdrew her hand.

"My mentor was a very famous herbalist, and he had good connections with the Kennedys," the doctor explained, trying to reassure her. "Being his proudest protégé, you can trust what I say. I wouldn't deceive you." Quinn responded by typing on her phone: [I know, thank you.]

The doctor sighed, "Alright... should I make you some herbal supplement to help you recuperate?" Quinn shook her head in response: No need. The doctor, feeling awkward, struggled to find another topic of conversation. He resolved to find time to talk to Alexander. It was disconcerting to witness Quinn's dwindling spirit with each visit.

Meanwhile, at the café.

Freya found herself observing the two men seated across from her. One was Alexander, and the other, a lean middle-aged man. He was engrossed in the documents she had provided, calculating something on his phone as he perused them.

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Freya cast an uneasy glance at Alexander, who was engrossed in his own phone, seemingly oblivious to his surroundings. "Ms. Freya, I've gone through the documents you sent. They are comprehensive. I'll have to get the financial statements verified, then I can appraise your shares," the man informed her.

"How long will it take?" Freya inquired. "A couple of days, at most," he replied.

Freya hesitated before asking, "And what do you think my shares could be worth?"

The man pondered for a moment before venturing, "Well, by my estimate, about ten billion dollars."

Freya's expression darkened, her displeasure evident. "Are you joking? These are shares in Freya Corporation! You're valuing them at only ten billion?"

The man raised his hand in a placating gesture, "Ms. Freya, there's no doubt your shares are valuable and indeed worth a great deal. But there's no market price for them."

"To take on your shares, I'd have to rally several investors to buy in. Which companies can lay down ten billion in cash right now?" he reasoned. "If you don't believe me, you can go out and ask around. Many might want to buy, but few can afford such an acquisition. Besides the funding issue, there are other complications to deal with. It's tricky."

Freya opened her mouth to respond, then closed it, finding herself at a loss for words. She didn't understand the technicalities, and the man's explanation went over her head. She had no reason not to trust Alexander's contact. "Only ten billion?" she finally managed to utter.

The man pondered for a moment before replying, "I can add twenty billion more at most-that's the largest gesture of good faith I can make."

"Miss Freya, if you don't trust me, surely you can trust Alexander, right? If you tried to deal with someone else, would you dare to agree if they offered a higher price?" he asked.