Chapter 2

"Let's give a thunderous round of applause for the winner of this year's Heart of Healing Award—" The host's voice blasted from the top-tier speakers, filling every corner of the ballroom.

He milked the suspense, stretching out the announcement and keeping everyone hanging.

The spotlight swept across the crowd, finally locking onto the dead center of the front row.

Isaac stood up.

Five years had polished him, making him more dazzling than before.

His dark gray bespoke suit hugged his commanding frame, and his hair was slicked back with meticulous care, showing off a smooth, broad forehead.

He wore a perfectly balanced smile, looking humble, composed, and carrying that unique compassion only a doctor possesses.

The crowd erupted in applause.

He nodded slightly in thanks and strode onto the stage with calm confidence. The spotlight followed him, like a galaxy lighting up his path.

The host recited the award speech, every word delivered with conviction. "Dr. Baker has not only performed over a hundred complex cardiac surgeries in the past decade, saving countless lives, but he's also spent years bringing medical care to underserved communities."

Isaac stood at the center of the stage, the spotlight bathing him in a golden glow. He turned slightly toward the audience, his posture graceful and composed.

He nodded occasionally in sync with the award speech, that warm, signature smile always lingering on his lips.

I knew what he was thinking.

He was savoring the moment. He was soaking up all those worshipful stares, already picturing himself holding that trophy, the one that meant he'd made it to the top.

And he was loving every second of the Heart of Healing image he'd spent years building, finally getting the recognition he'd always wanted.

He didn't spare me a glance.

I was in the second row among the guests, right next to the head of the charity art show.

As one of the most sought-after young artists, I'd been invited to add a bit of artistic flair to this big night for the medical world.

The black velvet dress looked stunning on me, and my long hair was styled into a low bun, accentuating the graceful line of my neck.

A diamond bracelet circled my wrist, cleverly hiding the scar, at least most of the time.

The host announced, his voice full of enthusiasm, "Dr. Baker has dedicated his entire life to perfectly exemplifying what the Heart of Healing Award stands for.

"And now, please welcome our award presenter, renowned young artist, Ms. Delilah Bennett."

The applause started up again, but this time it was much more scattered than before.

I calmly stood up, unfazed by the lukewarm reception.

The moment Isaac heard my name, his smile froze.

It wasn't a pause. His whole expression was locked up.

It was like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over him, and the warmth in his eyes iced over.

His pupils contracted, his fingers gripped the microphone hard, and his head tracked me as I walked onto the stage.

I smiled, with the spotlight bathing me as I walked steadily onto the stage.

My heels echoed crisply against the wooden floor.

Each step felt like treading the frozen ground of that snowy night, five years ago.

"Ms. Bennett, it's an honor to finally meet you," the host said warmly, handing me the crystal trophy on its velvet tray.

I took it and turned to face Isaac.

The trophy was heavy, and the gold-embossed words "Heart of Healing" on the base gleamed under the lights.

The hall went dead quiet. Everyone was holding their breath for the big moment, the showdown between art and medicine.

Locking eyes with him, I began to speak.

My voice echoed through the mic, so clear that it sent chills down Isaac's spine. "Dr. Baker, congratulations."

He swallowed hard, forcing out a smile. "Thank you."

He played it cool, if one didn't notice the sweat breaking out on his forehead.

I stepped in, a little closer, close enough to notice his perfectly groomed sideburns, close enough to breathe in that familiar mix, disinfectant and men's cologne, exactly the same as five years ago.

"Before I hand you the award," I said with a smile, my tone as casual as if we were chatting about the weather, "I'd like to ask you something, Dr. Baker."

Good-natured laughter bubbled up from the audience. Everyone assumed this was a carefully scripted moment. But Isaac's face went paler.

"You've been in medicine for years." I cocked my head, curiosity in my eyes. "Bet you've had to make some pretty tough life-or-death calls, huh?"

Isaac's mouth set in a hard line, but he didn't say a word.

"If you had two patients, both in critical condition, both needing you to save them, but you could only rescue one." I paused, my gaze dropping to his hand, now trembling ever so slightly. "How do you decide?"

The hall was so silent that one could hear a pin drop.

Isaac's lips moved, his voice coming out hoarse and tight. "As a doctor, we always do everything we can..."

"No," I gently cut him off. "I mean, if you absolutely had to pick one?"

I lifted my left hand, pretending to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. As I moved, the diamond bracelet slipped down, revealing a stretch of my wrist.

And there, on my wrist, was that ugly, twisted scar, snaking across my skin like a centipede.

The spotlight was so bright that the scar was impossible to miss. A collective gasp rippled through the audience.

Isaac's eyes were locked on that scar, his breathing growing ragged.

"For instance." I dropped my voice to a hush, as if I was sharing a secret, but the mic made sure everyone heard. "One is your wife, carrying your child, her leg trapped and bleeding from her abdomen.

"The other? She's your childhood crush, the one you've always put on a pedestal. All she has is a scraped ankle, and she's crying because she's scared of the pain."

I stared at his face, pale as a sheet, and asked, slow and steady, every word sharp and clear, dead serious. "Dr. Baker, who would you pick?"

The silence was suffocating. For ten agonizing seconds, not a single sound broke the tension.