Devilish secretary - Chapter 464

Chapter 464: Love, After the Lights Fade (END)

The hospital hallways had mostly gone quiet now. Visiting hours were over, most staff were wrapping up their shifts, and the city lights beyond the tall glass windows painted faint reflections on the floor.

Ethan had stayed close to Tara the entire time since the incident — through the police questioning, through the quiet cleanup of her office, and even as she thanked the security team one by one. He hadn’t left her side, not even for a moment.

And she couldn’t help but remember the way he had said, “You don’t thank me for protecting what’s mine.”

When she finally closed the file she’d been signing and pushed it across the desk, he reached for her hand.

“Come with me,” he said softly.

She looked up at him, her dark eyes still holding the faint sheen of earlier tears. “Where?”

“Just… come.”

He led her through the corridors, his hand warm and steady on hers, until they reached a side door with a stairwell leading upward. She realised where they were going only when they stepped out onto the rooftop.

The night air wrapped around them instantly — cool, crisp, carrying the distant hum of traffic below. The city spread out in every direction, skyscraper lights blinking against the darkness like stars. The hospital’s helipad sat silent at one end, its painted markings pale under the rooftop lights.

Ethan let go of her hand only to pull a folded handkerchief from the inside pocket of his jacket. He stepped closer, lifting it gently to her face.

“Hold still,” he murmured, brushing away the faint streak left by a tear she hadn’t noticed was still there. His touch was careful, his expression unreadable but soft.

She tried to look away, embarrassed, but he tilted his head slightly to meet her eyes. “If you don’t mind,” he said, his tone light but coaxing, “I’d like to know what happened. And why…” He paused, searching her face. “…why you were at my venue tonight.”

Tara froze. For a second, she thought about saying something else — anything else — but her voice betrayed her. “…I came to see you.”

Something in his gaze shifted. His lips curved, not into his usual smirk, but into a small, almost boyish pout.

“You came to see me, and you didn’t come to me?” he said, his tone half teasing, half wounded.

The sight of his exaggerated pout made her laugh — an actual, soft laugh she hadn’t expected to find tonight. “You look ridiculous,” she murmured.

“I look heartbroken,” he corrected, crossing his arms dramatically. “Do you know how tragic it is to have your wife at your event and not even know it? To walk that long, long carpet all alone… with Samira?”

Her smile faded just enough for her to glance away. “I didn’t know how to…” She trailed off, unsure how to finish.

He stepped closer, his voice lowering. “Don’t lie to me, Tara. I know you.”

Her fingers tightened slightly around the railing beside her. For a moment, the hum of the city filled the silence between them. Then, quietly, she told him. She told him about standing in the crowd, hearing the comments, feeling out of place in her simple clothes among the sparkle and cameras. She told him about the way people spoke about him and Samira — how perfect they looked together. And how that made her realise how far apart their worlds seemed.

When she finished, Ethan exhaled slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. “It’s okay,” he said finally, his voice warm and steady. “But you need to hear something from me.”

He took her hand again, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “Samira and I… we worked on one movie. That’s it. Off-screen, she’s like a sibling to me. We’ve been through enough long shooting nights and bad coffee to know neither of us could ever date the other without killing each other in a week.”

A reluctant smile tugged at Tara’s lips. “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious,” he said with mock solemnity. “She’s family. And she’s dating someone else, by the way — a very grumpy editor who keeps her grounded. The only reason we walked together tonight was because the organisers thought it would look good in photos.”

Tara lowered her gaze. “I’m sorry,” she said softly.

He squeezed her hand. “You don’t have to be sorry for feeling something. But I want to make sure you never doubt this—” His other hand rose to rest over her heart. “—never doubt us.”

She looked at him then, and for the first time since that evening began, she truly believed him.

***

Ethan tilted his head slightly, studying her. “You know,” he said slowly, “we could end all of this in one move. Announce our marriage. Make it official, public, done.”

Her eyes widened. “No.”

He raised a brow. “No?”

“I mean…” She hesitated, searching for the right words. “I’m a doctor, Ethan. I don’t want reporters showing up here, disrupting my work, following me into the hospital. My patients deserve privacy. I deserve to be able to walk into a hospital without someone trying to take my picture.”

He considered that for a moment, then nodded. “Fair. But you know me…”

Her lips curved. “That’s what worries me.”

“…I can still say I’m married,” he finished, smiling now. “No names, no photos. Just a fact. Let them guess all they want.”

She stared at him for a second, her heart giving that strange, warm twist it always did when he said something unexpectedly thoughtful.

“You’d do that?” she asked.

“I just told you,” he said, leaning in slightly, “I don’t like walking carpets without you.”

Her breath caught as he pressed a slow kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment before he pulled back.

***

They stood like that for a while — the city quiet around them, the wind brushing softly against their faces.

“Do you want to know something?” Ethan asked after a moment.

“What?”

“You’re the only person I’ve ever looked for in a crowd,” he said simply. “Everyone else… I just wait for them to come to me. But you? I’d walk into any place, any chaos, just to find you.”

Her chest tightened again, but this time it wasn’t from insecurity. “That sounds like a line from one of your dramas.”

He grinned. “Maybe. But this one’s not scripted.”

***

They talked more — not about the incident, not about the award show — but about small things. About Aunt Martha’s cooking. About how he hated the hospital coffee and would campaign for better beans if she let him.

The conversation wandered, light and easy, until the heaviness of the earlier hours had faded into the night air.

At some point, she leaned her head against his shoulder, and he rested his cheek lightly against her hair.

“Do you think,” she said quietly, “that we’ll always be this different? That our worlds will always be… apart?”

He was quiet for a moment, then answered. “Maybe. But I don’t care. I don’t need our worlds to be the same. I just need you in mine.”

Her lips curved again. “That’s… very good,” she admitted. “You should write that down.”

“I will. I’ll put it on a plaque for your office, since you keep hiding the ones I send.”

She laughed softly, the sound carrying over the rooftop.

***

They didn’t go back inside right away. They stayed until the night deepened, until the stars above the city grew sharper against the black sky.

When they finally returned to the corridor, Ethan walked her to her office, pausing at the door. “I’ll wait here until you finish packing your things.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I do,” he said easily. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m terrible at leaving you alone.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue.

***

The next few weeks passed quietly. Ethan attended a few events, smiling politely when interviewers asked about his personal life and replying simply, “I’m married.”

No names. No details. But the small smile that came with those words was enough to set off endless speculation online.

For Tara, life at the hospital went on — rounds, surgeries, consultations. But now, every so often, she’d find a small note tucked into her desk drawer.

“Saw you in the cafeteria. You still don’t know how to open juice cartons properly.”

“Leaving town for two days. Miss me.”

And each evening, when the city lights began to glow, she knew that somewhere — in some part of the city or even halfway across it — he was thinking of her.

Because in the end, their love didn’t live under the flashing lights or in the scripted moments. It lived here, in the quiet spaces between their days.

Where the world fell away, and it was just them.

Love, after the lights fade.

—THE END—

******

I really hope you enjoyed this short Stories ~ (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

It’s my first time writing something short, so I was a little nervous about the pacing. Hopefully, it didn’t feel too rushed and you still had fun reading it.

About Asher and Storm’s short story… I’ve been thinking about it for a few days now, but no ideas have clicked yet. If inspiration strikes, I promise I’ll write it for you!

Ahh, I’m getting emotional now… this is the last chapter of this book (っ´▽`)っ

If you’d like, you can send Power Stones, Golden Tickets, or even a little Gift for the last time. And of course, I hope you find another lovely story to enjoy next—or maybe come along and read one of my other books too~

Thank you for staying with me until the very end. I love you guys so, so much! (✿♡‿♡)

And please don’t forget to leave a review—it would make my heart very happy~

sigh… and with that, I’m signing off from this story. See you in the next one, my dear readers~ (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)