CHAPTER 458: LOVE, AFTER THE LIGHTS FADE (5)

Tara stood frozen for a moment, hand over her lips.

He didn’t tell her. He could’ve called. Could’ve sent a message. Could’ve done anything. But he chose to come home quietly. Her heart twisted.

She walked to his side slowly, her fingertips hovering just above his arm. She didn’t want to wake him yet. She just wanted to look.

To memorize.

To remind herself that this—this sleeping, slightly pouty, very unfairly handsome man—was hers.

His breathing was deep and even. His chest rose and fell gently under the worn T-shirt he had probably owned since college. His lips were still full, soft, parted just slightly, and his jawline looked sharper than it had any right to. He even had a tiny scratch near his chin—probably from shaving in a rush.

Tara crouched down beside the bed, resting her chin gently on the edge of the mattress as she watched him.

***

Ethan woke up to the faint warmth of sunlight spilling through the curtains, his mind still wrapped in the haze of sleep. Something felt different. His pillow...

It was softer. Warmer.

Woah... when did my pillow get this upgrade?

Still half-asleep, he nuzzled into it, rubbing his head against the softness like a lazy cat finding a sunny spot. A soft scent reached him—faint lavender, something clean and floral. It didn’t smell like his detergent. It smelled like... her.

His lips curved into a lazy, sleepy smile.

And then...

A hand slid gently into his hair, fingers moving slowly, brushing through the strands with the kind of absentminded tenderness you couldn’t fake.

Ethan’s body froze.

Wait.

Pillow. Hand. Lavender.

His eyes flew open—only to see darkness.

For a split second, he thought maybe he was dreaming inside a dream. Then he tilted his head upward, and his vision cleared.

It wasn’t darkness. It was Tara’s dark blue home T-shirt.

And he was lying... on her chest.

His cheek pressed against her heartbeat, his arm casually draped over her waist like they’d been sleeping like this for years.

His mind short-circuited.

Her cheeks were pink. Her lips pressed together, like she was trying not to smile too much.

Ethan immediately shot upright, heat crawling into his face. "I—I’m sorry," he blurted, voice cracking like a guilty schoolboy. He rolled away to the other side of the bed, running a hand through his messy hair.

"It’s okay," Tara said, a soft chuckle slipping out.

Her laugh always did something to him. It was quiet, but it wrapped around his chest like a thread, pulling him in even when he pretended to resist.

***

They got ready slowly, Ethan wearing a plain white T-shirt that fit perfectly across his shoulders, paired with grey sweatpants. He looked like someone you might casually see in the kitchen pouring coffee—except he was movie-star handsome and smelled faintly of her shampoo from the night before.

Over breakfast, Aunt Martha served them warm scrambled eggs, toast, and a pot of tea. But her sharp eyes were locked on Ethan.

"You didn’t tell me you were coming back?" Tara asked between sips of tea, her tone curious but not accusing.

Ethan leaned back in his chair, flashing his signature charming smile—the one that could make an interviewer forget their own questions. "Didn’t want to disturb you, doctor. You were probably busy saving lives."

Tara’s lips curved faintly, and she nodded. "Fair enough."

Across the table, Aunt Martha raised one brow at Ethan.

He subtly lifted his hand under the table, shaking his head as if to say, Don’t you dare spill anything about last night.

She hummed but didn’t press.

After breakfast, Tara pushed her chair back with a sigh. "I’m sorry, I have to leave for the hospital. But I’ll take the day off tomorrow."

Ethan waved casually, though inside he wanted to say, Don’t go yet. "It’s okay, go be a hero."

She smiled once more before grabbing her bag and heading out the door.

**

The moment the door shut, Aunt Martha crossed her arms and looked at Ethan. "So? How was the surprise?"

Ethan slouched back in his chair, tapping his fingers against the table. "Good... but..." He trailed off with a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck.

"But?"

"She came late," he admitted, "and I... well, I put away all the decorations before she got home."

"Why on earth would you do that?"

He gave her a look, serious now. "If she saw it, she’d have felt guilty. She’s on her feet all day, treating patients. The last thing I want is to make her feel bad for not coming home early. I can’t be that selfish."

Aunt Martha’s expression softened for a second. She didn’t say it, but her eyes told him she understood.

***

Later, upstairs in their bedroom, Ethan flopped onto the bed like he’d just run a marathon. He rolled over to her side, pressing his face into her pillow.

It smelled like her shampoo. Her skin. Something light and faintly sweet.

He closed his eyes and breathed in deep. "Damn it..."

His phone buzzed.

He answered without checking the ID.

"So, bro!" Kenji’s voice burst through, full of energy. "How was your surprise? Did she cry? Did she kiss you? Did the heavens open and—"

"Argh," Ethan groaned, dragging the pillow over his face. "She came late, I put away all the decorations, and we just... had breakfast. That’s it."

Kenji paused. "Wait. You set up decorations and removed them before she arrived? Are you insane?"

"You stupid!" Ethan snapped, sitting up and running a hand through his hair. "If she saw them, she might’ve felt guilty. She’s out there working herself to exhaustion, saving lives, and I’m gonna stand there with a candle saying, ’Oh, sorry, you’re late to my romantic evening’? No thanks."

Kenji whistled low. "Wow... noble and hot. That’s annoying."

"Shut up."

"Still..." Kenji chuckled, "pity you didn’t get a reunion seg—"

"Don’t finish that sentence," Ethan warned, his voice dangerously calm.

"What? Segsss?" Kenji teased deliberately, dragging the word out.

Ethan’s jaw tightened. "Don’t speak dirty, foul creature. Or I will fly to your house and break your teeth. One by one."

Kenji laughed so hard Ethan could hear him wheezing. "God, you’re fun when you’re frustrated."

Ethan hung up.

He sat there for a moment, rubbing his forehead, then smirked to himself despite everything.

Tomorrow, Tara was taking the day off.

And tomorrow, he was going to make sure the reunion wasn’t just breakfast and awkward smiles.