Love Unspoken

Alexander rolled up his shirt sleeves, revealing half of his arms. He was holding a cigarette, the collar open. His hair was a bit messy, with a few strands falling.

His appearance was clearly very irritable.

Getty hesitated, afraid of being scolded, but if she didn't go, she didn't know where she could find him next time.

After much thought, she still walked over.

She came to Alexander's side, staring at the ashtray in front of him, not knowing how many cigarettes he had smoked.

Before Getty could speak, she heard him say, "Get out."

She stood still, squatted down beside Alexander, her hands on his legs, looking up at him. "Alexander, did I do something wrong, or did I make you angry somewhere? Don't treat me like this, okay?"

Alexander just kept smoking, not looking at her. His attitude made Getty's heart sink even more, and she couldn't help but shed tears again. "Alexander, if I did something wrong, at least tell me clearly; let me understand. Please don't ignore me like this. Don't be so indifferent to me, okay?"

The more Getty spoke, the sadder she became. "You never treated me like this before."

He wouldn't humiliate her, particularly in public, nor would he ask her to leave abruptly.

As Getty was still recounting her grievances, Alexander suddenly interrupted her. "Getty, I'm not talking to you right now; go back."

Getty hesitated, her face turning pale, looking very ugly. "Go back where?"

"Back to Amber Bay," said Alexander.

Getty's fingers suddenly tightened, and almost without hesitation, she shook her head. "No, I'm not going back. I want to be with you."

Alexander suddenly turned to look at her. His eyes were calm, devoid of any emotion, or rather, they were chillingly indifferent. He said, "Getty, let's break up."

Getty's eyes widened, her face paled, looking at him in disbelief.

She almost thought she had misheard and asked uncertainly, "What did you say?"

Alexander repeated mercilessly, "I said it's over between us. Do you understand now?"

His indifferent tone was as if he was announcing something very ordinary without a hint of nostalgia as if these few years between them had never existed, as if it was just a dream Getty had made up herself. Getty stared with wide eyes, mouth agape, her face drained of color, looking ghastly pale.

Her frantic heart pounded, unable to find words to respond for a moment.

She couldn't believe that Alexander could so easily and heartlessly say these words. Alexander was the one who had courageously ventured alone to the cabin to rescue her, which appeared almost surreal. "You..." Getty opened her mouth but couldn't squeeze out a word for a long time, her voice trembling when she finally spoke.

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Alexander took out a check from his pocket and placed it on the table. "Here is three million dollars."

Getty sat on the ground in a daze, looking at the check that he had placed there at some point, like a wooden puppet.

She was like an abandoned puppy, unable to speak, tears streaming down her face.

So Alexander said again, "Or how much do you want? You tell me."

Getty's lips trembled; she took several deep breaths before holding back her tears.

She cautiously asked, "You promised to take care of me for a lifetime. Are your words not worth anything?"

Alexander's deep gaze fell on her face.

Getty looked at him expectantly, hoping to hear the words she wanted from his mouth.

Alexander's thin lips parted slightly, and he said slowly, "How much money do you want, enough to last you a lifetime?"