CHAPTER 459: LOVE, AFTER THE LIGHTS FADE (6)

The city was busy that morning, sunlight bouncing off tall glass buildings. Ethan drove with one hand on the wheel, sunglasses perched on his nose, a soft hum escaping him as he thought about Tara’s face when she saw him walk into her hospital unannounced.

Halfway there, he spotted a florist shop and pulled over. The bell over the door jingled as he stepped inside.

The florist, an elderly man with white hair and sharp eyes, looked up. "Need flowers?"

"Yep," Ethan said, scanning the rows of fresh blooms. "Something classic, but not too over the top. She’s not the type for giant teddy bears holding heart balloons."

The man smirked. "Wife?"

"Doctor," Ethan corrected with pride. "Which means she’s seen too many hospital bouquets to be impressed by the usual stuff."

The florist chuckled and started assembling a bouquet—deep red roses for love, soft peach ones for warmth, and a little baby’s breath for lightness. He tied them neatly with a gold ribbon.

Ethan handed over the cash, took the bouquet, and inhaled the scent. "Perfect. This is exactly the kind of thing that will make her smile just enough to hide the fact she’s mad I didn’t warn her I was coming."

The florist raised a brow. "You like danger, don’t you?"

Ethan winked. "I’m an actor. Drama is my job."

***

St. Adelaide Hospital

By the time he reached the hospital, the lobby was buzzing with activity. Patients sat in rows of chairs, nurses rushed by with clipboards, and the air carried a faint mix of antiseptic and coffee.

Ethan walked in like he belonged there—flowers in one hand, his other hand in his pocket, his step relaxed but confident. A few heads turned automatically; even in casual clothes, he had the kind of presence that drew attention.

He reached the reception desk, where two women in light blue uniforms were typing away at computers. One of them, a petite woman with glasses, looked up first.

"Good morning. How can I help you?"

"I’m here to see Dr. Tara Carter," Ethan said with an easy smile.

The woman’s expression shifted into polite professionalism. "Do you have an appointment?"

"Not exactly," Ethan admitted, leaning his elbow lightly on the counter. "I’m her husband."

She blinked. "Her... husband?"

"That’s right," Ethan said, his grin widening. "The one and only."

The second receptionist, a tall woman with short hair, glanced over. "Dr. Tara is married?"

Ethan’s brows lifted in mock offense. "You sound shocked. Don’t tell me she doesn’t talk about me."

The petite receptionist gave him a doubtful look. "Sir, we can’t just let anyone walk in claiming to be a doctor’s husband. It’s hospital policy."

Ethan chuckled, lowering his sunglasses just enough to reveal his eyes. "Do I really look like the type to fake my way in with roses?"

The taller woman raised an eyebrow. "We’ve seen stranger things."

Ethan tilted his head, amused. "Alright. How about this—you call her and tell her Ethan is here. She’ll know."

Before they could respond, a young male nurse passing by stopped mid-step, eyes widening. "Wait a second—you’re Ethan Carter, aren’t you? The actor?"

Ethan smiled. "Guilty."

The nurse grinned. "My girlfriend’s obsessed with you. She made me watch your last movie three times."

Ethan laughed. "Tell her I said thanks. But right now, I’m here for Dr. Tara."

The nurse glanced at the receptionists. "Yeah, that’s her husband."

The petite woman’s cheeks flushed slightly. "Oh. Um... I’ll call her now."

***

Ethan took a seat in one of the padded chairs, placing the bouquet carefully beside him. The muffins he had picked up earlier sat in a small bag on his lap. Every so often, his foot tapped lightly against the floor—not from impatience, but from the kind of restless energy that came from anticipation.

People still glanced at him now and then. An older lady two chairs away leaned over to her daughter and whispered, "I swear that man’s been in a film." A little boy in the waiting area kept peeking at him.

Ethan didn’t mind. His attention was fixed on the elevator doors.

***

Upstairs

Tara was in the middle of reviewing a patient’s scan when her assistant walked in. "Dr. Tara, there’s... someone here to see you."

She didn’t look up. "I told the reception—no visitors during my shift."

The assistant hesitated. "...He says he’s your husband."

Tara’s pen stopped mid-note. Slowly, she looked up. "Ethan?"

"Yes. He’s in the lobby. With roses."

Her heart gave an unexpected jump. "I’ll be there in a minute."

She signed off the last file quickly, straightened her coat, and stepped into the hallway. As she walked toward the elevator, she tried to school her face into calm professionalism. But a small, traitorous smile was already tugging at her lips.

**

Back in the Lobby

The elevator doors opened, and there she was—white coat flowing, black hair tied neatly, eyes scanning the lobby until they landed on him.

Ethan stood the moment he saw her, flowers in hand, that familiar smirk breaking into a genuine grin. "There she is," he said warmly.

"You," Tara said, her voice soft but with a hint of surprise.

"Me," he replied, holding out the bouquet. "And flowers.."

She accepted the flowers, the faintest blush coloring her cheeks. "You didn’t have to."

"I did," he said simply. "And I wasn’t leaving without seeing you."

She glanced toward the reception desk, where the two women were pretending not to watch. "They didn’t believe you were my husband, did they?"

"Not at first," Ethan said with a small laugh. "Had to charm my way in."

"You mean argue."

"Same thing," he said with a wink.

And for the first time all week, she laughed—a quiet, genuine laugh that made the trip, the flowers, and even the mild interrogation at the front desk completely worth it.

The lobby was unusually quiet for a moment after Tara left with Ethan.

Some of the younger nurses exchanged wide-eyed glances.

"Is that—?"

"He’s here for her?"

"I didn’t even know she was married..."