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.
