The Rumor She Shouldn’t Care About… But Did

Ailine said nothing after hearing the rumor—

a rumor tossed so casually by the nurse as she pushed the wheelchair through the long white corridor.

“People say Dr. Young and Dr. Lisa are together… They never deny it, so it’s probably true, right?”

Just one simple sentence.

But it settled deep in Ailine’s chest.
Quiet.
Small.
Yet heavy—like a pebble placed neatly over her heart, gaining weight with every breath she took.

Emma clicked her tongue. “Well, it’s pretty common, isn’t it? Workplace romance? Handsome doctor with beautiful doctor. They even look perfect together.”

Emma was not helping.
AT ALL.

Ailine smiled.
A thin, flawless curve of her lips.
The smile of a superstar—polished through years of training, sturdy enough to never crack in public.

But her heart?

It fell.
Shattered.
Hollow.

She suddenly wanted to bonk Emma’s head against the wall.

Even the ultrasound appointment ended up feeling half-hearted.

Time Skip — After the Ultrasound

Back in the private inpatient room, Emma immediately slipped into her usual mother-hen mode—shuffling untouched bowls of bland hospital food, fixing the blanket, adjusting the AC temperature, asking questions one after another.

Ailine only responded with short fragments.

“Hm.”
“Yes…”
“No need…”

No playful remarks.
No dramatic complaints about hospital diets.
No puffed cheeks or silly vanity about her weight.

It was as if a piece of her usual vibrant self had been quietly unplugged.

Emma frowned. “Miss Ailine… what is it? Are you hurting again?”

“No.”
The answer came too quickly, almost defensive.

Ailine inhaled slowly, keeping her expression flat. Her eyes, however…
They lacked their usual sparkle.
The one thing that made Ailine Su—Ailine Su.

“You’re sure?” Emma pressed.

“I’m just a little bored. Can I use my phone?”

“Not for too long…”

“I know…”

Ailine picked up her phone.
Looked at it.
Then set it down again.

Her gaze drifted to the blank white wall, lingering there for nearly a full minute.

Empty.
Muted.

Emma grew even more confused. “Not for too long doesn’t mean less than five minutes, Miss. You didn’t even scroll one song’s length…”

Ailine Su—the notoriously stubborn, impossibly dramatic superstar—changing moods this fast?

Emma finally considered the terrifying possibility that something was severely wrong with the universe.

“Focus on recovery…” Ailine murmured.

Even her voice was flat—weightless, unconvincing.

But her mind kept circling back to one thing:

The rumor.
Owen and Lisa.
How close they seemed.

And she hated… absolutely hated… that her heart tightened over something a random nurse said with zero hesitation.

Ten years.
She and Owen had been over for ten years.

In that span of time, even mountains could shift.
Rivers could carve new paths.
Human hearts? They could change overnight.

Of course Owen might have moved on.
Of course he could have someone new.

Of course.

But the sting was still there.
Sharp.
Uninvited.

She shut her eyes.
Then let out a soft, humorless laugh.

“How ridiculous… After ten years, one little rumor can still do this to me,” she whispered.

Emma’s sharp eyes caught everything. “Miss Ailine? Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Emma. You’ve asked that too many times. I’m getting tired of hearing it.”

“Exactly! You being this calm is terrifying! Usually if you’re calm, something is WRONG!”

Ailine glanced at her again. And this time she gave a small smile—one without its usual warmth.

“I’m fine,” she said softly.
Then added, even softer, “…Perfectly fine.”

But her chest felt like someone was squeezing it from the inside.

Emma huffed loudly. “If you’re perfectly fine, then you won’t throw a tantrum when taking medicine, right?”

Ailine nodded obediently.

And for the first time in Emma’s long, dramatic career handling Ailine Su—
the superstar didn’t complain.

No whining about bitter pills.
No gagging over hospital porridge.
No grumbling about calories or diets.

She simply stayed quiet.

Calm.

Too calm—like someone desperately trying not to let something break.

“Nope. No way. This is wrong.” Emma panicked. “Ailine Su would NEVER be this obedient. MISS, LET’S GET YOUR BRAIN SCANNED. SOMETHING IS SERIOUSLY OFF!”

“Emma! Stop being dramatic!”

Ailine closed her eyes, genuinely trying to sleep. To her surprise, she actually dozed off for a moment. And when she woke up, her manager was already in the room.

Layla gave her a gentle smile. “Don’t worry, Ailine. I’ve handled your schedules. Just focus on getting better, okay?”

“I’m bored… Can I go home?”

“What? Absolutely not!” Emma shrieked, eyes wide. “You can’t even think of leaving! You haven’t received your ultrasound results!”

Layla nodded. “Emma is right. You need a full diagnosis first.”

“The food tastes terrible, the medicine is bitter, and this whole place smells like disinfectant. It makes me want to puke!” Ailine whined.

Emma slapped her own forehead. “THIS IS IT! This woman is clearly very sick. First she was too calm, now she’s whining. SHE NEEDS ICU. Or maybe the psychiatric ward—just to be safe!”

“Emmaaa!” Ailine growled.

But oddly… that banter eased something inside her.
Her mood lifted, if only slightly.

“Ailine,” Layla said, breaking the chaos. “He’s here.”

Ailine blinked. “Who?”

But before Layla could answer, loud commotion erupted right outside the door.

A figure appeared—standing at the doorway like a storm holding itself back.

A large gift box and a bouquet of flowers were carried casually, yet there was something in the way he held his steps that made the room feel different.

His hair was light, slightly tousled, a few strands falling over his forehead. His jawline was sharp, yet there was a softness that was hard to ignore. His posture was upright, proportional, as if every movement followed a rhythm only he knew.

The smile etched on his lips was not full, not warm—but enough to make the room feel heavier, more alive. The confidence he radiated was not arrogant, but calm, demanding attention without uttering a single word.

Ailine held her breath, studying the figure from afar. Her eyes flicked to the stranger at the door. Calm, collected… but why did her chest tighten, in that way that had nothing to do with fear?

No panic. No racing heartbeat.

Just… a piercing curiosity, subtle but certain.

Who was he?

“Darling… your prince has arrived.”