Ethan had always felt that these corridors held only death and despair. Pushing away the sudden wave of gloom, he clenched his fists.
"No, he couldn't just walk away. He was still young, in the prime of his life. Matthew had to live, despite all the medical forecasts and the hand life had dealt him."
Ethan had flown back to his hometown just a few hours ago to visit his father and see his childhood friend. He had managed to carve out three days from a grueling flight schedule for the trip.
Ethan lived and worked in Chicago. Immediately after high school, he had entered flight school for civil aviation. After graduation, he landed a prestigious assignment in the city, and over the last twenty years, he had flown to almost every corner of the country.
He loved his job, and by all appearances, his life was a success. However, there was one "but"—he had never started a family. He had his reasons, of course, but he never spoke of them to anyone. At the beginning of the year, Ethan had transferred to cargo aviation. He was approaching forty, and in the commercial sector, that meant looking toward the horizon of retirement, but in cargo, he could keep flying for another twenty years. He delivered freight to remote Alaskan outposts and research stations in the Arctic. Because of the new schedule, this was his first time home all year. Right from the airport, he had called his old friend:
"Hey! Well, I'm here! God willing, I'll see you tomorrow!"
"Finally, the ace of the skies shows up! I'd almost given up hope of seeing you," Matthew had replied, his voice hearty. "Come on over, we'll grab a drink, talk about the old days, and catch up."
Everything had seemed fine. Ethan didn't want to believe that their brief conversation would be their last. He stood up and paced the hallway again; time was stretching on interminably. Ethan had rushed to the emergency room as soon as the hospital called—his number was the last and only one available in the contacts. Matthew had been taken into surgery.
Ethan knew there was nothing he could do for his friend right now. Calming himself and pulling it together, he sat on a bench, left only to hope for the surgeons' skill and pray for a miracle. Several times, the night nurse suggested Ethan go home and call in the morning to see how the surgery went. But he couldn't imagine just going home, climbing into bed, and falling asleep—not until he knew Matthew was okay. God willing, his buddy would pull through.
Suddenly, the night nurse, who had been on the phone, turned to Ethan.
"Excuse me, do you have a car here?"
Ethan jumped up and walked over to the desk.
"Yes. Why? What's wrong?"
She looked slightly embarrassed and spoke softly.
"Could you go pick up a surgeon? Our transport vehicles are all out on calls, and here... well, you understand, seconds count."
"Give me the address. I'll have the doctor here in minutes," Ethan said without a second thought.
He knew this town like the back of his hand, so finding 5 Redstone Way was easy. The apartment complex was deep in sleep, with only a single light burning in a fourth-floor window.
Five minutes later, the main door slammed, and Ethan saw the silhouette of a petite woman approaching the car. She gave a quiet greeting and slid into the back seat.
"Is it your friend who was in the accident?" she asked.
"Yes, my best friend since we were kids," Ethan nodded, pulling out onto the main road.
"Why was your 'best friend' driving under the influence?" the woman asked irritably.
"He wasn't drinking. At least, I've never seen him drunk. Look, I get it's three in the morning..."
But she just sighed heavily, closed her eyes, and turned toward the window, signaling the conversation was over. Ethan caught a glimpse of the doctor in the rearview mirror. She was beautiful—a feminine profile, blonde wavy hair pulled into a tight ponytail. In the dim light, he couldn't make out all her features, but she seemed lovely. But that voice... no, Ethan shook his head. He must be imagining things. He hadn't slept in two days; he had thought he was coming home for peace and rest.
Finally, the car pulled up to the hospital. Before Ethan could say a word, the woman was gone. She darted out and vanished into the building the moment he killed the engine. Curiously, he felt a sense of peace—as if Matthew's life was in steady hands from that moment on.
Once again, the dark hospital corridor swallowed him. Time seemed to stop. Ethan took out his phone and tried to read the news, but the letters wouldn't form words; his thoughts were far away from this bleak place.
"What's the name of the surgeon? The one who just went in?" Ethan suddenly asked the nurse.
"Dr. Rachel Miller," the girl replied.
"I'm sorry, who?" Ethan couldn't believe his ears.
"Rachel Miller. She's one of our best."
He closed his eyes. Too many coincidences for one night. Rachel... that's why her voice had sounded so painfully familiar. How many years had it been? Memories came rushing back to him...
***
After finishing flight school, he had moved to Chicago for his new job with a major airline. He wasn't made a first officer immediately; that's how it usually goes for young pilots. The flight lead promised to get him into a crew within a month, telling him, "Just stay on reserve for now."
Soon, Ethan took his first vacation and went to visit his parents. After hugging his mom and dad, the young man changed into his pilot's uniform and ran to see her—his Rachel. Back then, she was in med school. He bought a stunning bouquet on the way and was soon standing at her door, his heart racing as he rang the bell... but no one answered. Leaving the building, he noticed a neighborhood kid walking a dog, who explained that Rachel's parents were at their summer cabin and she had left about an hour ago. Ethan decided to wait for her outside.
It was starting to get dark when a car pulled into the driveway. Rachel hopped out, followed by some guy he didn't recognize. They were arguing about something, then she noticed Ethan. Her face turned a deep shade of crimson.
"Hello, Ethan," she said quietly, walking over to him.
"Hey. I'm home on leave. I've been sitting here for half the day."
"Are you here for long, or is it the usual pilot thing—here today, gone tomorrow?" Rachel asked, her voice trembling slightly.
"I've got two weeks this time." Ethan felt awkward talking to her with everyone watching, especially since he didn't like the way the guy she was with was staring at them. The stranger didn't come closer, but he didn't look away either.
"I can see you're busy," Ethan said, handing her the flowers. "I'll head home so I don't get in the way."
"Ethan, this is a classmate. A group of us went down to the river to swim, and Derek offered to give us a ride home..."
"I get it. See you tomorrow?"
They agreed to meet, and Ethan went home, but he felt a bitter weight in his chest. It wasn't exactly that he was jealous, but he didn't like that Derek guy. He looked down on everyone around him; clearly some rich kid from a prominent local family.
The next day, Ethan went to Rachel's house again, this time taking his father's car so they could talk away from prying eyes—really talk about everything. Nothing good came of it. They fought and didn't see each other again for the rest of his leave. Ethan couldn't understand what had happened to the gentle, glowing girl he knew. It was as if she had been replaced by a stranger.
***
The clock showed a little after six. Ethan opened his eyes; exhaustion had finally won, and he had fallen asleep on the hard chair. The hospital windows were catching the first rays of the sun. The surgery had been going on for over four hours. Finally, footsteps echoed in the hall, and Rachel stepped out from the surgical wing.
"Well, hello," she said, sitting down next to him. "I recognized you in the car, Ethan. You haven't changed much."
She sighed.
"Your friend is out of danger now. You can visit him in a couple of days when he's moved to a regular room. Now, excuse me, I'm in a huge rush."
Ethan opened his mouth to speak, but a worried nurse interrupted him mid-sentence.
"Dr. Miller, someone has called you several times already!"
Ethan stepped back to give them space, but he still heard the woman making excuses, looking around self-consciously.
"Is our car fixed yet?" Rachel asked the nurse.
"They promised it by noon," the nurse replied.
"I'll have to call an Uber, then. I'm running late..."
Ethan, having overheard, stepped up to the desk.
"If you need a ride, Rachel, I can get you anywhere in town in minutes, free of charge."
"Just don't drive like you did last night. I don't need another accident before the wedding," she replied, and for some reason, she looked away, embarrassed.
***
First, they stopped at a hair salon, then back to the apartment on Redstone Way. Along the way, Rachel told him why he had never received a single letter.
"Your mother, Ethan... she never liked me. I always felt it, but why was a mystery to me. My parents weren't thrilled about our families being linked either. One day I overheard them talking—my mother was accusing my father of an affair, and your mother's name came up. Then my father got a job in a different city and we moved. I wrote to you faithfully for months to the address your parents gave me, but I never got a reply. My mother told me, 'There will be many guys like Ethan in your life. He went to the big city and forgot all about you. Why wait for a guy like that?' So, I listened. You were far away, you rarely visited. And then rumors started that you had a fiancée in Chicago. I didn't want people to pity me or point fingers. It was a small town back then; gossip spreads fast."
"Rachel, I never received a single letter from you," Ethan said, finally beginning to understand what had actually happened.
"I figured that out eventually... What happened next? I finished med school and got a position at the city hospital. I threw myself into my work. I only went home to sleep; I never went out. Occasionally, for holidays, I'd go to a restaurant with colleagues. But my personal life never really happened because I was always working. I had a few brief relationships, but... nothing serious."
"And who is he? The man you're marrying?" Ethan glanced sideways at her.
Rachel looked beautiful, and if he were being honest with himself, he would have done anything to be in that groom's place. Where had he been all these years?
Rachel watched the city scenery pass by the window in silence.
Last year, while on vacation at a coastal resort, she had met a man. Ironically, he lived in her hometown, but their paths had never crossed.
Victor was attentive and kind, he courted her beautifully, and he wanted something serious. Rachel had thought—the years are going by, I should settle down, have a child. So she agreed to marry him, even though she didn't feel any grand passion.
Ethan sat in the car, processing everything he had heard, cursing himself for not being more persistent in the past, for leaving. Their lives had been remarkably similar. He hadn't met the woman of his dreams yet either, though truthfully, he had never been able to forget Rachel. Among his colleagues, office romances were discouraged, but Ethan saw how the flight attendants looked at him. He had always stood out with his athletic build and steady demeanor.
But for him, nothing existed but the job he loved. He wasn't a hermit, but he never took casual flings seriously, and he certainly didn't think about marriage until he had built a foundation for a stable life—a home and some savings.
Over time, Ethan had bought a nice apartment in a suburb of Chicago and a car.
He just never found his other half. Or maybe that first love had never left his heart.
"At least one of us should find family happiness," Ethan thought, breaking his silence.
Just then, Rachel emerged from her building in a beautiful white dress. She walked quickly to the car, sat in the back, and said:
"Ethan, my fate is in your hands. If I'm late to the courthouse, I'll never forgive myself!"
"I'll do my best," he said, pulling out onto the main street.
Ethan pushed the car as much as he could, but the roads were busy. He had to weave through traffic to make time. It seemed fate was against the event; two blocks from the courthouse, a local speeder tried to pass them and clipped his fender. The other driver's plastic bumper shattered on the road. They had to wait for the police.
Filling out the report and interviewing witnesses took a long time. Ethan wasn't at fault, and the damage was just a scratch. Seeing his urgent pleas—and the frantic bride in the back seat—the officer finally let them go with a damage certificate. But time hadn't stopped. Rachel was hopelessly late for her wedding.
Outside the courthouse, an outraged groom met the car. His eyes flashed with anger at Ethan, who was helping Rachel out of the vehicle. Leaving the bride to deal with the fallout, Ethan quickly entered the building and found the clerk in charge of registrations. He wanted to find a way to fix this.
He explained that the bride was a surgeon and she wasn't late for no reason—she had spent half the night fighting for a man's life. Without a minute of rest, she had only had time to change clothes, and then they had been in an accident on the way.
The woman listened in silence, looked at her watch, and asked him to leave, citing a packed schedule with not a single free minute. Discouraged, Ethan walked out of the building. But where were the guests? Where was the groom?
Rachel was sitting on a bench under a weeping willow, all alone and crying bitterly.
Knowing that questions were pointless right now, he just sat beside her and put a hand on her shoulder. When she calmed down, she wiped her tears and told him that the groom's parents had caused a scene, accusing her of being late on purpose to ruin the day. And Victor, jealous of Ethan, had wished her luck and driven off.
"There won't be a wedding!" she concluded. "If it's not too much trouble, please just take me home. I need to sleep. I'm so tired..."
"Of course, no problem," Ethan replied, helping her up.
At that moment, a woman in a business suit came out of the courthouse and started looking around. Noticing Ethan, she waved him over. When he ran to her, having tucked Rachel into the car, she explained quickly:
"Hello again. I overheard your conversation earlier. I checked the schedule and there's a small gap in about an hour. That's enough time to perform a ceremony."
Ethan, realizing this was his chance, assured her they would be there. But first, he told her the whole story—how he had only just flown into town, and how their lives had collided in the last twenty-four hours.
Fate is a fickle thing, but it had made its corrections. His friend was safe, but his own future was now in the hands of the woman in the car.
"Quite the drama," the clerk frowned. "But would the bride even agree to such a... substitution? Go on, talk to her, and come to my office in half an hour. I'll see what I can do."
Ethan went back to the car. "Rachel, if you're willing, they can officially register us in an hour."
Her eyebrows shot up.
"I know it's a huge step," he continued. "But I promise you—you will never regret it. Time is running out, so I'm asking you again. Rachel, will you marry me?"
She thought for no more than a minute. Then her eyes sparkled with warmth, and she said softly:
"I will."
They were married that same day, deciding to save the big celebration for when Matthew could be there. If it hadn't been for him, this meeting never would have happened, and Rachel agreed completely.
For the party, they booked a hall at the best restaurant in town. There weren't many guests—just close friends and family. Rachel invited her colleagues from the hospital, and Ethan's entire flight crew flew in, which made him incredibly happy, even though he wondered how the squadron commander had allowed it. He still couldn't believe it was happening; it all felt like a beautiful dream.
Now Ethan knew for sure—no matter how life turns out or what people say, you have to listen to your heart. It never lies.
Walking hand-in-hand with the woman he loved, he thanked fate for everything. He wasn't afraid of the future. Anything can be overcome when she is by his side.
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