Glimmer of Light

Quinn stared out the window of her bedroom, the sunlight casting a golden glow across the polished floors. The house was silent, its emptiness stretching far beyond the physical space. She had spent the night replaying the events of her birthday—the silence, the neglect, and the stinging loneliness that came with it. 

Her phone buzzed on the bedside table, pulling her from her thoughts. She glanced at the screen and saw Michael Lennox's name. With a sigh, she picked it up. 

"Happy belated birthday, Quinn!" his familiar voice chirped through the speaker. "Tell me you didn't spend the day working." 

Quinn chuckled softly despite herself. "What else would I do, Michael?" 

"Quinn," he said, his tone turning serious, "don't tell me you didn't celebrate. That's unacceptable." 

"I didn't feel like it this year," she admitted. 

"Unbelievable," Michael muttered. "Alright, no excuses. Meet me for lunch today. You've been officially summoned." 

Quinn hesitated. She hadn't planned on going anywhere, but the thought of sitting alone in the mansion all day felt unbearable. 

"Fine," she relented. "Where and when?" 

Michael's voice brightened. "I'll text you the details. Wear something stunning—it's time to turn some heads." 

The restaurant Michael had chosen was a sophisticated rooftop venue overlooking the city. As Quinn stepped onto the terrace, she spotted him waiting near the railing. He looked effortlessly casual in a crisp white shirt and tailored pants, his confidence radiating as he waved her over. 

"Quinn Shaw Langston," he greeted, grinning as she approached. "Fashionably late, as always." 

Quinn rolled her eyes, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "You're impossible, Michael." 

"True, but you love me for it," he replied, pulling out a chair for her. 

They settled in, the soft hum of city life providing a backdrop to their conversation. As the waiter poured their drinks, Michael leaned back and studied her. 

"Alright," he said, gesturing toward her with his glass. "Spill. What's going on?" 

"What do you mean?" Quinn asked, feigning ignorance. 

"Don't play coy," he said, raising an eyebrow. "I've known you long enough to tell when something's wrong. And you've got that look." 

She sighed, swirling the water in her glass. "It was my birthday yesterday." 

Michael's expression shifted, his grin fading. "And?" 

"And nothing," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "No celebration. No acknowledgment. Not even from Leo." 

Michael's jaw tightened. "You're kidding." 

Quinn shook her head. "Why would I joke about something like that?" 

Michael leaned forward, his tone laced with anger. "That man is an idiot. How could he—" He stopped himself, exhaling sharply. "Quinn, you deserve better. You know that, right?" 

"It's not that simple," she said, her voice trembling. "It's not just about my birthday. It's everything. The silence, the indifference… and then I saw the photos." 

Michael's eyes darkened. "You mean the ones with Sofia." 

Quinn nodded, her stomach twisting as she remembered the images. "Everyone's seen them. It's humiliating, Michael. How can he…" She trailed off, unable to finish the thought. 

Michael reached across the table, his hand covering hers. "Quinn, listen to me. This has nothing to do with you. Leo's a fool for not seeing what he has right in front of him." 

Tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked them away. "It's not just about him. It's me too. I let myself believe things could get better, that we could build something together. But now…" 

Michael's grip on her hand tightened. "Quinn, stop. This isn't your fault. If he can't appreciate you, that's on him, not you." 

His words were like a balm to her aching heart. For the first time in days, she felt a glimmer of hope—a reminder that she wasn't completely alone. 

After lunch, Michael insisted on walking her to her car. The midday sun bathed the city in warmth, and the soft chatter of passersby filled the air. 

"You've always been too hard on yourself, you know that?" Michael said, glancing at her. 

Quinn smirked. "Says the man who spent years arguing with me about everything." 

"Because you were usually wrong," he quipped. 

She laughed, shaking her head. "You're impossible." 

"That's why I'm your favorite," he replied with a grin. 

As they reached her car, Michael leaned against the door, his expression softening. "If you ever need to escape, Quinn, you know where to find me." 

"Thanks, Michael," she said, her voice sincere. 

"Anytime," he replied, stepping back to let her get in. 

back at the mansion, 

The mansion was as quiet as ever when Quinn returned. She set her purse on the counter and glanced at the empty living room. Leo wasn't home yet, and she didn't expect him to return any time soon. 

She climbed the stairs to her bedroom, her heels clicking against the marble floor. As she sat on the edge of her bed, she stared out the window, the events of the day replaying in her mind. 

Michael's words lingered: "You deserve better." 

For so long, she had tried to make this marriage work, pouring herself into a union that felt more like a transaction than a partnership. But now, for the first time, she began to wonder if it was worth it. 

Quinn straightened her back, lifting her chin. She wouldn't let Leo's neglect define her—or her worth. 

Quinn's birthday might have been forgotten by the one person she wanted to notice, but Michael's kindness reminded her that she wasn't invisible. 

As she stared out at the setting sun, a new resolve began to take root within her. She didn't need Leo's validation to feel whole. She would reclaim her strength, her independence, and her happiness—even if it meant building a life without him. 

"Because Quinn Shaw Langston wasn't meant to live in anyone's shadow."