004 A Chance Encounter with Ethan

Ethan sat in his dark leather ergonomic chair, sunlight streaming through the blinds, casting a dappled pattern across his desk. It was a warm autumn afternoon, yet his mood was anything but bright—a cloud of unease seemed to hang over him, keeping him restless. His fingers drummed against the table unconsciously, making a soft rhythm as if trying to beat away the thoughts cluttering his mind. Documents lay scattered across the polished surface, but he couldn't focus on them—his mind was elsewhere, somewhere that kept slipping from his grasp, and he had no power to bring it back.

Ever since Emily had walked out of their engagement party, Ethan had been in a perpetual state of turmoil. Days had gone by without a single word from her, and the emptiness gnawed at him. He thought he'd be able to carry on with his life, to return to normal, to be the same old Ethan he always was. But whenever the world went quiet, his mind filled the silence with thoughts of her. He remembered the warmth of her gentle smile, the stubborn determination she showed even in difficult times, and even the defiant look she had when she was angry. Her every expression was etched into his memory. No matter how much he wanted to forget, he simply couldn't—she was part of him now.

Suddenly, the sharp ring of his phone pierced the stillness of his office, jolting him from his reverie. Frowning slightly, he glanced at the caller ID—it was from the company's HR department. He expected it to be about some routine matter, but something in his gut told him that wasn't the case. It was an unsettling feeling, the kind that made his spine stiffen. He took a deep breath, then picked up the phone, trying to mask the unease in his voice.

"Ethan," the HR manager began, her voice quick and somewhat anxious, "We just received a request from Emily. Her grandmother's condition has taken a turn for the worse, and she urgently needs surgery. She's applied for medical assistance from the company."

"Surgery?" The word hit Ethan like a lightning bolt. His heart clenched, a cold shiver running through him. Emily had spoken many times about her grandmother—how she had raised her when no one else could, how she was not only her family but her guiding light, the one person she could always rely on. Ethan's grip on his pen tightened, and it slipped from his fingers, clattering loudly onto his desk.

There was no time to think. He shot up from his seat, his response firm and immediate: "I understand. I'll handle this personally." Without waiting for further discussion, he hung up the phone, grabbed his keys, and strode out of his office, his pace brisk and purposeful. He had only one thought in his mind—no matter what, Emily couldn't face this alone.

As soon as he left the building, he got into his car and sped toward the hospital. His heart pounded in sync with the roar of the engine, the scenery outside the car window blurring as it passed by. Ethan's emotions were a mess, his thoughts chasing each other in circles. He knew there were barriers between them, that they'd drifted apart due to misunderstandings and unspoken hurt. But all of it seemed to pale in comparison now. At this moment, none of those arguments or distances mattered. He had to be there for her. He couldn't bear the thought of not being there when she needed him most.

The hospital was bustling, filled with the usual commotion of patients, doctors, and nurses. The distinct smell of antiseptic hung in the air, making the place feel sterile yet heavy. Ethan made his way through the maze of white walls and blue scrubs, his heart pounding as he searched for any sign of Emily.

In the distance, he spotted her—standing in line at the cashier's counter, her face drawn with worry, her eyes clouded with exhaustion. She stood there alone, wearing a tired frown as she shuffled forward. From the way she kept glancing at her watch, it was evident that she was struggling to figure out a solution—the weight of her grandmother's medical expenses pressed heavily on her shoulders.

Finally, it was her turn at the counter. She stepped forward, her voice coming out shaky but insistent, "Hi, can I arrange to pay for Room 301—Lucy Lu's—surgery a week later? I need to get her scheduled as soon as possible." The plea in her tone was palpable, a vulnerability she rarely showed. She had always been independent, always tried to be strong. Now, she stood there, seeking any lifeline she could grasp.

The nurse behind the desk typed into her computer, then looked up and offered Emily a reassuring smile. "The payment for Room 301 has already been made, and the surgery is scheduled for tomorrow."

Emily froze, a flicker of confusion flashing across her face. "What? Already paid? Can you tell me who paid it?" she asked, trying to make sense of what she was hearing.

"It was your husband—a gentleman named Ethan," the nurse replied nonchalantly before turning her attention back to her work.

The world around Emily seemed to slow to a halt. Ethan. His name echoed in her mind, shock leaving her breathless. Ethan was here? How did he know she was in trouble? Why would he do this?

Before she could collect herself, a deep, familiar voice came from behind her. "Emily." His voice was soft, laced with warmth and concern, as though he was afraid of startling her. She turned slowly, and there he was, standing not too far from her, dressed in a dark suit, a look of gentle determination etched across his features.

The sight of him made her heart twist painfully, emotions she had buried for weeks suddenly rising to the surface. Ethan was the last person she had expected to see today, yet here he was—at the hospital, in front of her, as though nothing had changed. The years they had spent together flashed before her eyes, bringing with them a tide of both gratitude and a bitter sense of loss.

"You… why are you here?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly, barely above a whisper. There was disbelief in her gaze, her eyes betraying her vulnerability—a side of her that she had fought so hard to conceal.

He stepped closer, his gaze fixed on her with a determination that left no room for doubt. "I heard about your grandmother and came immediately," he said, his voice steady, "The surgery expenses have been taken care of. I also arranged for a nurse to take care of her so that tonight you and your mom can get some rest at the hotel nearby. You need to take care of yourself too, Emily."

Emily swallowed, her throat tightening as her emotions surged within her. Part of her wanted to push him away, to tell him that this was her burden alone, that she could handle it without his intervention. But another part of her felt immense relief. She wasn't alone, not at this moment. Still, she forced herself to remain composed, her tone cautious and guarded, "Thank you, Ethan. But the money… I'll pay it back when I can. I don't want any favors between us."

Ethan's eyes softened, his expression filled with remorse and something deeper—a kind of longing she had not seen before. He stepped closer, his voice lowering as though every word was a promise. "Emily, there's no need to repay me. Please, don't push me away like this. I know I made mistakes—big ones—and I can't undo the past, but give me a chance. Let me make things right."

His voice was thick with sincerity, and Emily found herself wavering, her heart aching at the memories they had once shared—the happiness, the dreams, and then the heartbreak. She looked away, blinking back the tears that threatened to escape. "Ethan," she began, her voice soft but resolute, "What's done is done. I can't change the past, and neither can you. Right now, my focus is my grandmother. When I return to the city, we can talk. But for now, I need space."

There was a moment of silence between them, the weight of her words hanging in the air. Ethan stared at her, his expression a mixture of heartbreak and acceptance. He gave her a small nod, his voice barely above a whisper, "Alright, Emily. I understand. I'll be waiting."

Later that night, Emily sat on a cold hospital bench, her legs curled beneath her, staring into the darkness of the hospital garden. The air was crisp, but her mind was anything but clear. She thought of Ethan's face, the sincerity in his voice, the hope in his eyes. A part of her wished she could let go of all the resentment and pain—to fall back into his arms, to be taken care of, to feel loved. But she knew it wasn't that simple.

She couldn't ignore the fact that he had betrayed her, and the wounds from that betrayal ran deep. They had spent years building something, only for it to come crashing down because of lies, mistakes—and perhaps, their inability to truly understand one another. Her love for him had once been pure, uncomplicated, full of trust. Now, it was tainted—clouded by suspicion, and bruised by the weight of unfulfilled promises.

Ethan stood in the distance, his back against a tree, keeping his eyes on Emily, even from afar. He didn't want to intrude but couldn't leave, either. He wanted to be near—just in case she needed him. He watched as she rubbed her arms against the chill, her head bowed down. He could tell she was lost in thought, and he wished he could be the one to wipe her tears, to make everything okay again.

But there were no guarantees. He knew that. He had crossed lines that shouldn't have been crossed. Yet, he wasn't ready to give up. Not on her. Not on them. He needed to prove that he could be different—that he could be the person she deserved.

He sighed softly, finally turning away and walking back towards the hospital entrance. It was enough that she let him be here for now. It was enough that she didn't outright reject him. He would take whatever chance he could get, and he would wait—wait for her heart to soften again, wait for the day when they could finally heal.

Emily, feeling the weight of her own exhaustion, slowly rose to her feet, casting one last glance at the garden before making her way inside. She needed rest—for tomorrow, for her grandmother, and for herself. And for whatever awaited her in the future, she needed her strength. Whether or not Ethan was in that future, she didn't know. But she knew one thing—she wouldn't let herself be weak, no matter what. She would face whatever came, no matter how painful it might be.