CHAPTER 455: LOVE, AFTER THE LIGHTS FADE (2)

Ethan froze mid-step. "Nope. Not me. Just a regular guy with very symmetrical cheekbones."

"Ethan Carter?"

He gave a nervous laugh. "Ethan who? I’m... Kevin. Kevin... Batra."

But it was too late. She giggled, then whispered to her colleague.

By the time he took his seat in business class, three passengers had sneakily tried to take selfies, and a baby in the row behind kept trying to grab his hoodie strings.

He sighed and leaned back.

**

Meanwhile, in City M — St. Adelaide Hospital

The morning sunlight poured gently through the tall glass windows of St. Adelaide Hospital, casting golden beams over the glossy floors and filling the air with a quiet kind of warmth that didn’t quite match the usual rush of the place. Nurses moved quickly from room to room, interns clutched clipboards with wide, anxious eyes, and patients waited patiently in their chairs, murmuring softly or tapping on their phones. Amid the controlled chaos, one figure moved with unshaken grace, her steps purposeful yet elegant, like she belonged to another rhythm entirely.

Dr. Tara

Her long black ponytail swung behind her like silk, and her white coat fluttered gently as she passed the nursing station, clipboard in hand.

Her voice was calm, level, and easy to follow, like a well-written instruction manual.

"Vitals every four hours," she said, not slowing her pace. "If his temperature spikes again, don’t wait—page me. And no skipping hydration protocol."

A young intern, no older than twenty-two, nodded so fast he nearly dropped his pen. "Yes, ma’am!"

Tara offered a polite smile and moved on.

Behind her, a senior nurse leaned toward the fresh batch of interns and whispered under her breath, "That’s Dr. Tara. One of the best we have. Watch her closely. You’ll learn more in a day with her than a week of lectures."

One of the interns, wide-eyed, murmured, "She’s... really pretty."

"Not just pretty," the nurse replied with pride. "She’s terrifyingly smart. Top of her year, scholarship all the way through, and not a single critical case lost under her care. But yeah..." she paused with a grin, "those eyes, right?"

Dr. Tara’s eyes were striking—dark and deep, like the kind of night sky that made you pause and wonder what stars might be hiding behind the clouds. They held softness, but also distance, as if half her mind was always somewhere else. Her skin glowed faintly under the fluorescent lights, clear and dewy, without a trace of fatigue even though everyone knew she hadn’t slept properly in at least three days.

Some joked she had fairy blood. Others said she was just magic with good lighting.

But really, Tara just cared for herself the same way she cared for her patients with gentle discipline and quiet consistency.

"Doctor Tara! Your 11 AM consultation is ready!" a nurse called from the hallway.

Tara checked her smartwatch, nodded once, and replied calmly, "On my way."

**

11:05 AM – Tara’s Office

Tucked away in a quieter wing of the hospital, Tara’s private consultation room looked nothing like the rest of the building. A soft lavender scent lingered in the air, the lighting was warmer, and the desk was neat—clean folders, pens placed just right, and a tiny potted plant that somehow always looked freshly watered.

She slid into her chair, exhaled through her nose, and reached for her tablet.

Her phone buzzed once on the desk.

Instagram: 10.2K likes on your latest skincare reel

Tara raised an eyebrow and opened the notification. She scrolled through the flood of comments—some thoughtful, some hilarious, some desperate for product links.

"Your skin is glowing, Dr. Tara, are you even human?"

"Drop that vitamin C serum, Queen."

"I’d trust her to cut into my soul and still moisturize me after."

She chuckled under her breath and typed a quick reply: "Hydration, patience, and not skipping sleep (even if you’re a surgeon)"

She didn’t start the account for attention. At first, it was just a simple way to share wellness tips with junior interns who kept asking how she managed to look so calm all the time. But it exploded. Thousands followed her now. Her morning smoothie video had gone viral. A popular actress had once reposted her turmeric face mask with a heart emoji, and Tara hadn’t even realized until a nurse brought it up two days later.

Still, she kept her private life carefully hidden—especially her marriage to Ethan. No one knew about it.

Because Ethan was a star, and he couldn’t afford to risk his career. She was a doctor, grounded in a world of routines and responsibility. Their lives had always moved at different speeds, under different lights—his full of flashes and attention, hers quiet and steady. But between those separate worlds, Yet between their distant lives, there was something small and sacred—something that lived quietly in the spaces between time zones and schedules. It was folded gently into the silence after a call, the comfort of waking up to a good morning text, and the warmth of late-night messages that arrived like clockwork, even when miles and oceans stood between them.

They had chosen it that way. And for years, it worked.

Her hand drifted up on its own—fingers brushing the thin silver chain hidden beneath her coat. The small charm was worn smooth by time: an engraved "E," barely visible now. A gift from Ethan, before his first overseas shoot. She never took it off.

Sometimes, when the night stretched long and surgeries piled up and her own breath grew unsteady—she would press her hand there.

She missed him.

Then a knock came at the door.

Her assistant peeked in. "Doctor Tara? Your 11 AM is ready. Also... flowers arrived again."

Tara blinked. "Flowers?"

"Yes, another bouquet. Same as last week. Red and peach roses."

She stood up slowly, brows furrowing. "No name again?"

Her assistant shook her head. "Just the usual. A note that says—’To the doctor with starlight eyes.’"

Tara pressed her lips together, something unreadable passing through her expression.

"...I’ll see the patient first," she said quietly, moving past her assistant.

She hadn’t told Ethan about the flowers.

And while Ethan sat ten thousand feet above the world, hidden behind a hoodie and dark sunglasses, trying to avoid airport cameras, Tara was down here—saving lives, healing strangers, touching hearts without even realizing it.