Silent Strings

Chapter 1

The automatic doors of Huáng Medical Center slid open, and I stepped inside, my freshly ironed scrubs and neatly pinned ID badge feeling like armor against the wave of newness. This was it—my first month as an oncology nurse at one of the most prestigious hospitals in the world. Although the nerves of starting had long settled, there was still a buzz of anticipation that I carried every day. Today was no different.

The lobby was a masterpiece of sleek design, a perfect balance of modernity and warmth. The marble floors gleamed under the sunlight streaming through the massive glass windows, and the faint scent of fresh flowers hung in the air. The atmosphere was welcoming yet bustling—professionals in white coats moved with purpose, their conversations blending into the faint hum of hospital machinery. It was a place of both healing and excellence, a reputation it rightfully deserved.

I made my way toward the nurse’s station, nodding politely at a few familiar faces as I passed. Over the past weeks, I’d worked hard to settle into my role, and the team had been welcoming and supportive. Still, there were moments when the weight of everything felt surreal. Who would’ve thought I’d end up here after everything? Working in his hospital.

I shook the thought away, keeping my expression neutral. This was my space now, my career. I refused to let memories dictate how I navigated this new chapter. The nurses were busy updating charts, the hum of controlled chaos surrounding me as I signed off on my patient list for the day.

Everything was going smoothly until I felt it. A shift.

I was just settling into the rhythm of the station when a ripple of excitement swept through the room. The whispers started softly but grew louder as nurses—and even a few doctors—snuck glances toward the hallway.

“He’s here,” someone murmured, their voice tinged with awe. “Oh, my gosh. He’s coming here?”

I was confused at first, what was the commotion all about. Is there a celebrity or something? I should finish my task first.

But then came the voice.

“Ines?”

I froze, mid-signature. My pen hovered over the clipboard as the world narrowed to the single sound of that voice. No, it couldn’t be. Slowly, I turned toward the source, and for a moment, I thought I was imagining things.

There he was, standing a few feet away like a mirage. Jackson Athanasius freaking Huáng. His dark brown hair was slightly tousled as if he’d just run his fingers through it, and his striking dark brown eyes—those eyes that could see straight through you—held the same quiet intensity I remembered. Jackson had always carried himself with a natural authority, but now, there was an added weight to his presence, as though the years had only sharpened his charisma.

His white coat hung perfectly on his broad shoulders, and those dark eyes—sharp as ever—locked onto me with an intensity that made my pulse stutter.

He looked exactly the same and yet... more. More refined. More confident. More... maddeningly attractive. Time hadn’t dulled a single thing about him. My heart gave an inconvenient leap in my chest as his eyes widened, recognition dawning. s**t.

“Ines?” he repeated, louder this time, as if he couldn’t trust his own eyes.

“Dr. Huáng,” I greeted, my voice carefully measured despite the storm brewing inside me. I hadn’t seen him in three years—three long years of silence, distance, and long-kept secrets. And yet here he was, standing in front of me, dumbstruck.

He blinked rapidly, as if trying to make sense of what he was seeing. “You... you’re here? You’re working here?”

“Surprise,” I said lightly, though the word felt far too casual for the gravity of the moment. “I’ve been here for a month, actually.”

“A month?” His voice pitched slightly, the disbelief painted across his face making it impossible to suppress the faint amusement

curling in my chest.

“Yes, a month,” I confirmed, raising a brow. “Kassian didn’t tell you?”

He let out a short, incredulous laugh, running a hand through his hair. “No, he didn’t. That bastard.”

Before I could respond, Jackson closed the distance between us in three long strides. Without hesitation, he pulled me into a hug—a firm, overwhelming, completely Jackson hug that left no room for argument.

His hands settled firmly at the small of my back, anchoring me in place, while his other arm wrapped around my shoulders, pulling me closer. The warmth of his embrace was overwhelming, and I could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against mine. For a brief moment, it felt like time itself had paused. My initial shock melted into something else entirely—a mix of comfort and nostalgia—and for the first time in years, I let myself relax in his arms.

My breath caught as the warmth of him surrounded me. His scent was the same—a blend of cedar and something undeniably him—and it hit me like a wave of nostalgia. For a moment, I stood frozen, acutely aware of how his arms tightened around me, as if making sure I was real.

“God, I can’t believe it’s you,” he murmured, his voice low and full of something unspoken.

“Dr. Huáng,” I protested softly, my hands awkwardly pressed against his chest as I tried to create some space. My eyes darted around the room, catching sight of the small entourage trailing behind him—junior residents, interns, and a handful of nurses, all staring with varying degrees of curiosity and shock.

“Jackson,” I whispered urgently, my face heating as I realized we’d become the center of attention. “We’re in the middle of the hospital.”

He didn’t seem to care. If anything, his grip tightened briefly before he finally pulled back, though his hands lingered on my shoulders. His gaze swept over me, taking in every detail as if he were trying to memorize me all over again.

“You’re back. You’re here. You look...” He trailed off, shaking his head slightly. “You look amazing, Ines. Different but still...” His eyes softened, and for a moment, I swore I saw something deeper flicker there. “Still you.”

“Thanks,” I said quietly, trying to suppress the whirlwind of emotions threatening to surface. “But really, Jackson. You need to let

me go. You’re causing a scene.”

His lips quirked into a smirk as he finally released me, but not before leaning in just enough to murmur, “Let them watch.”

My face flamed at his words, and I fought the urge to glare at him. Trust Jackson to make a moment like this utterly insufferable

and unforgettable all at once. This man, really. He’ll be the death of me.

Around us, the nurses were practically buzzing with curiosity, but Jackson seemed utterly unbothered. He stepped back, his hands lingering on my arms for a moment longer before letting go. The weight of his gaze remained, though, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was just the beginning of something I wasn’t entirely prepared for.

As Jackson finally released me and stepped back, his entourage of residents and nurses trailed after him like ducklings following their mother. He glanced over his shoulder one last time, a smirk playing on his lips as our eyes met. I could practically hear the unspoken “See you around” in his gaze before he disappeared down the corridor.

I exhaled deeply, trying to collect myself. My heart was still racing, and I was pretty sure the heat in my cheeks hadn’t faded. I barely had a second to process the whirlwind that was Jackson Huáng before I noticed the way the nurses at the station were eyeing me.