CHAPTER 462: LOVE, AFTER THE LIGHTS FADE (9)

Back at the hospital, the familiar smell of antiseptic filled Tara’s lungs, but it didn’t calm her the way it usually did. She walked down the quiet corridor toward her office, heels clicking softly against the floor.

She closed the door behind her and leaned against it for a moment, eyes shut.

The image of Ethan and Samira under the carpet lights replayed in her mind — the way they looked together, elegant, perfect. She knew she shouldn’t feel this way. She knew his job demanded it, that the red carpet was part of his world. But it made her realise something she’d been ignoring.

They were different.

He probably had seen women far more glamorous, more confident, more graceful than she could ever be.

And she? She was just a simple doctor who came from a small tribal village, where most people didn’t even know what a red carpet was. Her world used to be dusty roads, small clinics, and a quiet life where the biggest events were community gatherings under open skies.

Adjusting to city life when she first came here had been hard — painfully hard. The living style, the openness between men and women, the loudness of it all. She remembered her first weeks here, sitting silently at staff dinners, unsure of what to say, feeling different in every possible way. She had learned to fit in, yes, but the feeling of being a step behind never quite left.

Tonight had brought all of that rushing back.

She sank into her chair, elbows on the desk, and pressed her fingers to her temples. She hated the sharp twist in her chest. She hated the thought that maybe she wasn’t enough for a man like him.

Her eyes burned unexpectedly. She swiped at them quickly with her sleeve. You’re being ridiculous, she told herself. Stop it.

A knock on the door made her straighten quickly. She wiped the last trace of dampness from her cheeks and sat up, forcing her voice to stay steady. "Come in."

***

The door opened, and a familiar figure stepped inside.

"Doctor Tara?"

She blinked. "Doctor Justin? You’re here?"

Justin was a middle-aged physician, one of the hospital’s senior staff. He had always been kind to her, especially when she first joined. He’d explained hospital procedures patiently, defended her when older nurses complained she was too quiet.

"I should be asking you that," Justin said, stepping inside.

Tara smiled faintly. "I... just forgot something here, so I came back."

He nodded, then closed the door behind him. She didn’t think much of it, turning back toward her desk.

"So," he said after a pause, "are you planning to go back?"

"I was about to leave," she replied, glancing at him.

But he wasn’t looking at her like usual. His eyes moved slowly over her face — her clear skin, the pink of her lips, the long black hair tied loosely at her back. Something in his gaze made her uneasy.

"Doctor Justin?" she asked, her voice cautious.

He stepped closer. "Tara..."

She instinctively leaned back against the edge of her desk as he came nearer.

"What are you doing?" she said, her voice sharpening.

Before she could move away, his hands reached for hers.

Her stomach turned. "Doctor Justin, please—" She tried to pull free, but his grip tightened.

"I love you so much, Tara," he said, his voice trembling with intensity. "Please... marry me."

Her breath caught in shock. "What the heck! Doctor Justin, leave me!"

But he didn’t. He stepped closer, pulling her toward him, trying to tilt her face up.

"No... you’re my starlight," he said desperately. "I can’t let you go."

Her eyes widened, the words ringing in her ears. Starlight.

The exact phrase written on the anonymous flower cards.

"You..." she whispered, horror dawning. "You’re the one who’s been sending me flowers?"

"Yes," he said without hesitation, his grip still firm. "Every bouquet. Every word. I meant them all."

Her mind raced. This man — a colleague she had trusted — had been the one behind the nameless gifts. The unease she had brushed off earlier now felt heavier, real.

"Let me go," she said again, her voice low but sharp.

***

Meanwhile – At the Award Venue

Across the city, the award ceremony was still in full swing. The hall glittered with gold decor and crystal chandeliers. Ethan was at his table, smiling politely during the speeches, but his mind was elsewhere.

His phone buzzed with a message from Ace, his assistant.

[Ace]:I just saw Tara at the venue earlier. She was in the crowd, then she left quickly. Looked upset.

Ethan froze, reading the words twice.

She had been here? She had seen him? And she left without saying a word?

A rush of panic ran through him. He pulled out his phone and dialed her number immediately. It rang. And rang. No answer.

He tried again. Still nothing.

"Ethan?" his manager whispered from across the table. "You’re up next for presenting."

"I can’t," Ethan muttered, already rising from his chair.

"What are you doing?"

"Something more important," he said shortly.

Without waiting for a response, he slipped out of the hall, murmuring quick apologies to anyone he passed. The cold evening air hit him as he stepped outside.

He called Aunt Martha next. "Is Tara home?"

"No," Martha said, her voice concerned. "Why? Is something wrong?"

"She’s not answering her phone."

"Maybe she went back to the hospital..."

"Thanks," Ethan said, already moving toward his car.

***

The drive to the hospital felt longer than it should have. His thoughts ran wild. Why was she at the venue? Why did she leave? Did someone say something?

Every red light felt like a personal insult. His grip on the steering wheel tightened as the hospital building finally came into view. He parked without caring about the exact spot and strode toward the entrance, his shoes striking the pavement hard.

All he could think was finding her.

Ethan’s car screeched to a halt in the hospital parking lot. He didn’t even bother locking it properly before he was out, moving fast toward the main entrance. His heart was pounding so hard it hurt. Every second felt like it was dragging him away from where he needed to be — with her.