Love Unspoken

As the nurse's grumblings faded into the sterile hospital air, Quinn's breath hitched in her throat. She slowed her hurried pace, her gaze landing on the bed where the nurse was still attempting to reach Ariel, whose number seemed to be perpetually blocked.

Quinn's eyes shifted to the frail figure on the bed, a pang of confusion and concern washing over her. The woman looked older, her age etched into her features more prominently than Quinn remembered.

The elderly woman's eyes were shut tight, her face a mask of tranquility. Quinn couldn't discern whether she was unconscious or simply asleep.

With a gentle tug, Quinn caught the nurse's attention. The nurse swiveled around, her eyes scanning Quinn as she asked, "Are you a family member of Juliet's?"

Quinn's gaze lingered on the woman in the bed before she gave a slight nod in confirmation.

The nurse's expression softened, her professional demeanor easing slightly. "Good, now that you're here, can you make a decision about her treatment?"

Quinn nodded eagerly, her resolve unwavering.

A furrow appeared on the nurse's brow. "Then take care of the payment, please. She needs an infusion. If you decide against treatment, you should arrange to take her home as soon as possible. We're running out of beds here." Quinn quickly retrieved her mobile phone, typing a message to the doctor: [I'll handle the payment immediately, but please start her treatment for now.]

The nurse seemed taken aback by Quinn's inability to speak, but quickly regained her professional composure. "Once you've paid, just bring the receipt to the doctor."

Quinn nodded in understanding, rushing off to handle the payment. The bill was just over five thousand dollars for the past few days.

She had initially thought Ariel had experienced a change of heart by bringing Juliet to the hospital. However, Quinn now realized she had been too optimistic. Ariel was merely trying to avoid having Juliet pass away at home. His intentions of caring for her were nowhere to be found.

Quinn could never comprehend how a son could treat his mother with such disregard.

After settling the payment, Quinn approached the doctor, receipt in hand.

"The elderly tend to have multiple ailments, typically related to aging. It's not possible to cure her completely, but we can certainly make her remaining days more comfortable," the doctor explained to Quinn.

Quinn nodded, writing down her question: How serious is she now?

The doctor glanced at the test results. "The bloodwork doesn't show much. It'd be better to do a CT scan. From what we can tell, it seems like a combination of osteoporosis and malnutrition has led to her unconscious state."

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"Her bones are fragile. A fall like this is quite dangerous. You'll need to be extra careful with her," the doctor warned.

A fall? Quinn's mind raced. How could Juliet have fallen?

After expressing her gratitude to the doctor, Quinn clutched the papers and retreated to the hallway.

Juliet lay motionless in her bed, her body in a coma-like state. Fortunately, a nurse had come to start her infusion. Quinn decided to stay by her side.

The nurses were always bustling about, especially outside the infusion room. They were seldom seen unless a patient or family member required assistance with medication. Spotting a vacant chair nearby, Quinn slid it over to sit beside Juliet, mirroring the way Juliet used to sit by her bed when she was a child.

Quinn couldn't help but wonder if Juliet felt frightened, lying alone in a hospital bed at her age.

With a gentle touch, Quinn reached out and held Juliet's hand. She studied the elderly woman's face, her heart heavy with unspoken sorrow.

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Perhaps it was a connection of the soul, or maybe the medication was taking effect, but as Quinn held her hand, Juliet's eyes fluttered open.

A wave of relief washed over Quinn, her grip on Juliet's hand tightening.

Juliet seemed to sense someone beside her. She turned her head, her gaze landing on Quinn. Recognition dawned on her, and tears welled up in her eyes. "Quinn, why are you here?" Juliet managed to whisper, her voice frail as if each word required immense effort.

Quinn signaled with her hands, 'I came to see you.'

Juliet, now eighty years old, was crying like a child.

Quinn asked, 'What's wrong?'

Juliet shook her head, hastily wiping the tears from her cheeks. "Nothing, I'm fine, don't worry."