When Love is a Question Mark
Chapter 103: Silent burdens

Chapter 103: Silent burdens

Samuel pulled the car to the side of the road, his fingers tightening around his phone as he raised it to his ear. His voice was low, soft. "I’m sorry for missing dinner again, Zinnia. Work pulled me in. Have you already eaten?"

Zinnia glanced down at the empty table, where a simple place setting lay in front of her. She hadn’t touched it, waiting for him. "Not yet," she replied, a slight pause before she added, "I was just about to. Will you be home soon?"

Leaning back in his seat, Samuel rubbed his eyes, the day’s tension evident in the lines of his face. "Yes, I’m on my way. But don’t wait up for me. Go ahead and eat if you’re hungry."

Her voice came back over the line, gentle yet firm. "I’ll cook something. I’ll wait. Just... drive safe, okay?"

He felt a pang in his chest at her words. She worried about him, more than he deserved. "Thanks, Zinnia," he said softly. "I’ll be home soon."

He set his phone down, letting out a long breath. The silence that followed felt heavy. Zinnia deserved to know everything, deserved his honesty, but he couldn’t bring her into this—not yet, not until he had answers himself. The guilt settled in, mixing with exhaustion as he started the car and continued his way home.

When he finally walked through the front door, the warm light from the kitchen cast a soft glow over the room. The scent of something freshly cooked drifted to him, wrapping around him in a way that reminded him of simpler times.

He found her waiting at the table, the meal laid out in front of her. She’d made a quiet, comforting spread—a plate of pan-seared salmon, some roasted vegetables, and warm bread.

Zinnia looked up, her eyes lighting up just a bit as he approached. "Good evening," she greeted him, a soft smile touching her lips.

"Good evening," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

The smile faded as she studied him, concern replacing it. "Long day?" she asked, though her tone was more of a gentle observation than a question. She didn’t ask for details. Instead, she just looked at him, really looked, taking in the tired lines around his eyes and the slight droop in his shoulders.

He nodded, offering her a faint, forced smile. "Yeah," he admitted. "But I’m here now."

She bit her lip, as though considering her next words. She wanted to ask more, he could see it in her eyes, but she held back, sensing the weight he carried. Whatever he’d gone through today, it had taken its toll. She decided to let it be, at least for now.

They sat together in a quiet understanding, each bite of the meal grounding him more. The food was simple but comforting, the kind of meal that reminded him of normalcy, of the life he sometimes longed to return to.

When they’d finished, they cleared the dishes side by side, moving around each other in the kitchen in a familiar rhythm. They didn’t speak, but somehow, the silence was enough. When the last dish was put away, she looked up at him, her expression soft.

"Goodnight, Samuel," she said, her voice carrying an unspoken hope, a warmth he couldn’t quite reach.

"Goodnight," he replied, his tone as soft as hers, though it came out more like a whisper. They parted, each heading toward their own room, a gentle but undeniable distance settling between them.

Once alone, Samuel began to pace. His mind wouldn’t quiet, thoughts racing faster than he could catch them. He couldn’t shake the gnawing suspicion building inside him, and before he knew it, he was dialing Timmy’s number.

The line clicked, and Timmy answered quickly, sounding alert. "Yes, sir?"

Samuel didn’t waste time. "Didn’t you say it was a private facility abroad? So why was it suddenly a private villa when we went to that island? The place I was supposed to visit—the place where you saw Marlo?"

Timmy hesitated, and Samuel could almost hear the wheels turning in his assistant’s mind. "Yes, sir," he finally answered, choosing his words carefully. "That villa used to have a small private facility inside. It’s been abandoned for years, though, ever since the couple who owned it passed away."

Samuel frowned, gripping the phone tighter. "Whose villa was it?"

"It belonged to Marlo’s grandparents," Timmy explained, his tone cautious. "They ran a private clinic inside the villa. After they died, no one maintained it. I apologize for not reporting it earlier."

Samuel exhaled, letting the new details sink in. The villa, the private facility—it was like the pieces of a puzzle were slowly coming together, but he knew he was still missing too much.

---

The next morning, he woke with a feeling that weighed heavy on his chest, like a stone he couldn’t shake off. He showered, letting the cold water rush over him, hoping it would clear his mind, but the unease clung to him, refusing to let go. Dressed and ready, he glanced at his phone—no messages from Timmy. He pushed down the worry, though it stayed just beneath the surface.

Downstairs, Zinnia was already at the breakfast table, a plate of pancakes in front of her. She looked up as he entered, her smile brightening the room for a moment before fading as she took in the tension etched across his face.

"You seem... distant today," she said softly, a gentle question in her voice.

He tried to offer her a reassuring smile, but it barely reached his eyes. "Just a lot on my mind," he replied, taking a seat across from her.

Her brow furrowed, concern flickering across her features. "You know you can talk to me. Whatever it is."

His gaze drifted away, the words catching in his throat. "I appreciate that," he managed after a pause, his tone carrying a hint of distance. "But it’s... it’s work stuff. Nothing I can share."

Her shoulders slumped just a little, a flash of disappointment crossing her face before she looked away. "You don’t have to carry everything alone, Samuel."