CHAPTER 454: LOVE, AFTER THE LIGHTS FADE (1)

Ethan, a playful superstar with a heart of gold, and Tara, a serious and gentle doctor, have been married for seven years—but life kept them apart. While Ethan lit up screens across the country, Tara spent sleepless nights in hospitals, chasing her dreams. Now that she’s finally settled into her job, and he’s returned from a long film shoot overseas, they have to face something far more fragile than any wound or camera flash: their own neglected love.

But what happens when Ethan notices someone sending Tara flowers at the hospital? And Tara walks into an award show to find Ethan arm-in-arm with his stunning co-star?

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"Eww—!" Ethan suddenly gagged, bending over the kitchen sink as he spat the water out violently. "Oh my God—what the hell?!"

Kenji blinked, still holding the remote in one hand. "Uh... that bottle?" he asked, slowly realizing what just happened. "Yeah... sorry, bro. I think that water’s expired."

"Expired?" Ethan shot him a murderous look, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "It tasted like boiled socks!"

Kenji gave a sheepish grin. "To be fair, it’s only expired by like... two years."

"TWO YEARS?!"

Ethan’s voice cracked mid-sentence. He stared at the bottle in disbelief—cheap plastic, cloudy white stuff floating inside like it was secretly growing an alien lifeform. He’d been so tired, he didn’t even look. Just grabbed the first thing in Kenji’s fridge.

He turned around and bolted toward the bathroom.

A few seconds later—retching noises.

Kenji winced. "Oops."

When Ethan finally came back, his hair was a mess and his face looked like chalk. He held onto the wall dramatically like he needed life support.

"I swear," he muttered, dragging his feet. "If I die from food poisoning, I’m haunting you."

Kenji threw his hands up. "Hey! I didn’t know you were coming! I just got back from an outdoor shoot in City J, I haven’t even looked in that fridge in weeks!"

"You left living organisms in there!" Ethan pointed toward the kitchen, appalled. "There’s something moving in that bottle!"

"Maybe it evolved," Kenji said casually, sipping cola from a clean can. "You never know."

Ethan collapsed on the couch beside him and groaned. "If I end up in the ER, you are paying my hospital bill."

Kenji chuckled, not even trying to look guilty. "Why are you worried? Your wife is a doctor."

"Exactly!" Ethan snapped. "Which means she’ll find out I drank expired swamp water and yell at me for not checking the bottle."

Kenji burst out laughing. "Hahahaha! Imagine her scolding you like a patient—’Mr. Ethan, you have stage five stupidity.’"

"I hope your next role is a mosquito in a horror film," Ethan mumbled darkly.

Kenji was now fully entertained. "Oh come on! It’s been what? Seven years of marriage? And you’re still scared of your wife?"

"I’m not scared," Ethan grumbled, sitting up and throwing a cushion at him. "I just have a healthy respect for the woman who holds a scalpel every day."

"She must be one hell of a doctor now."

Ethan’s expression softened for a moment. "She is."

There was a pause. The kind that only old friends understood.

Kenji leaned his head back on the couch. "You two really pulled off this secret marriage thing well. I don’t know how you survived seven years of hiding it."

Ethan shrugged, a slow smile forming on his lips. "She had her medical exams. I had my film career. If the press had found out early, it would’ve turned into a circus. So we just... kept it quiet."

Kenji raised an eyebrow. "You’re one of the biggest stars in the country, and she’s probably patching up patients without anyone knowing she’s married to you. That’s kinda cool."

"It’s not cool. It’s tragic. We’ve barely seen each other this year," Ethan said, tossing his head back. "Last time we had a proper dinner together, I think my hair was still black."

"You dyed it blue for that sci-fi movie."

"That’s beside the point."

Kenji smirked. "So when are you going to see her again?"

Ethan smiled to himself, tugging the hoodie strings tighter around his neck. "Tomorrow. I’m finally flying back."

Kenji sat up, surprised. "You didn’t tell her?"

"Nope."

"Why not?"

"Because," Ethan grinned. "I want to surprise her. With flowers. A dinner. Candles. Maybe a cheesy love song in the background."

Kenji snorted. "You sound like a K-drama fanboy."

Ethan winked. "If being romantic is a crime, then lock me up."

Kenji laughed again. "Just don’t offer her anything from my fridge."

Ethan clutched his stomach and groaned. "Too soon, man. Too soon."

After a long nap and two bottles of non-expired cola, Ethan’s strength slowly returned. He stretched, groaning like an old man, and dropped back onto the beanbag on the floor.

Kenji, still eating chips like he hadn’t just poisoned his best friend an hour ago, waved a game controller in the air. "You up for a match or are you going to whine about your organs some more?"

Ethan grabbed the controller with a mischievous grin. "Oh, it’s on, fridge criminal."

They connected the console, turned up the volume, and within ten minutes, the living room was filled with yelling, button mashing, and extremely creative insults.

"HOW did your character dodge that? I swear I pressed kick!"

"You pressed cry, not kick!"

"I’m going to punch your virtual grandma!"

"DO IT! She’ll block you with her cane of doom!"

They played until 2:38 AM.

At one point, Ethan stood on the couch, screaming, "REVENGE FOR THE TOILET WATER!" after winning a round. Kenji threw a pillow at him so hard he fell off.

When they finally stopped, both of them were on the floor, breathless and giggling like teenagers. Chips were scattered everywhere. One controller had mysteriously vanished under the sofa. Ethan was using a blanket like a superhero cape.

"I haven’t laughed like this in months," he said, wiping tears from the corner of his eyes.

"Maybe that expired water unlocked something in you," Kenji replied, chuckling.

Ethan groaned. "Stop reminding me. My stomach is still suspicious."

Next Morning: Airport

By 9 AM the next day, Ethan was at the airport, dragging his suitcase with one hand and adjusting his hoodie with the other.

He was in full "please-don’t-recognize-me" mode.

Oversized hoodie? Cheak.

Dark sunglasses? Cheak.

Baseball cap pulled low? Cheak.

Mask covering half his face? Cheak.

Attitude of someone who’s running from the FBI? Double check.

Even his suitcase was low-key. No flashy designer bag today—just a black one with a small rip on the side, like he was a tired office worker and not a national heartthrob.

As he stood in line for security, trying to blend in, a little boy pointed at him from his mom’s arms.

"Mommy! That uncle looks like the robot from that movie!"

Ethan tensed.

"Shh, don’t stare, baby."

"But he has the same glasses! Is he famous?"

Ethan quickly looked away, hiding his face behind a vending machine.

A few seconds later, the vending machine beeped and said in a robotic voice: "Please take your juice."

"OH—" Ethan jumped.

The entire queue turned to look at him.

He awkwardly grabbed the juice and tried to act casual, walking away like nothing happened—except he bumped into a cleaning trolley and nearly knocked over the mop bucket.

"Sorry! Sorry—oh no—my hoodie!"

He bent to clean his now-wet hoodie sleeve with tissue.

Then the final embarrassment struck.

As he was boarding the plane, his mask slipped down slightly, and a flight attendant narrowed her eyes.

"Wait a second... Are you—?"