It was Anjali's eighteenth birthday.

The day she had been dreaming of since she was a little girl. The day she could finally, officially, call herself an adult.

But all she really wanted was him.

And he wasn't there.

The Khanna mansion's garden looked like it was plucked straight out of a royal fairytale—twinkling fairy lights overhead, rich floral décor flowing like silk across marble tables, a soft instrumental band playing classic tunes, and a guest list filled with who's who of the business world.

But the one person she was waiting for hadn't arrived.

Arjun.

Anjali stood in her flowing blush-pink gown, looking every bit like a modern princess. Her smile dazzled every guest. But those who knew her well—like Muktha and Rohan—noticed that it didn't quite reach her eyes.

She kept glancing toward the entrance with every passing minute, eyes silently pleading with the universe.

"Princess, come. Let's cut the cake," her father, Manoj Khanna, called out with affection.

Anjali turned toward him and smiled weakly. "Papa, let's wait for a little more, na?"

Manoj narrowed his eyes, amused. "Hmm? Are you waiting for someone special?"

The way he asked made her throat tighten. She shook her head with a nervous laugh and quickly looked away. "No, no. I just thought maybe more guests are still on the way..."

He looked at her for a moment longer, like he wanted to read between the lines—but then nodded. "I understand, Princess. But it's already past 8:30. It wouldn't be fair to keep the early guests waiting."

Anjali knew he was right. Her father and brothers had done so much to make this night special for her—lavish decor, gourmet catering, a luxury live band, custom cake... She couldn't disappoint them.

So she forced the brightest smile she could manage. "Okay, Papa. Let's cut the cake then."

The crowd began to gather near the center of the garden where the grand three-tiered birthday cake stood—decorated in soft white and rose gold with delicate sugar flowers and a glittering "18" topper. It was perfect.

But it all blurred in her vision.

Her eyes, despite herself, kept flicking toward the mansion gates. Every time a car door slammed or footsteps approached, her breath caught. Maybe it's him. Maybe he's here.

But it never was.

Muktha squeezed her hand gently.

Rohan, standing by her side, watched her closely. He noticed the slight shake of her hands, the too-wide smile, the way her gaze darted—searching, waiting, hurting.

Everyone around her was singing.

🎵 Happy birthday to you... 🎵

And with a heavy heart masked by a polite smile, Anjali cut the cake.

Inside, she felt hollow. Like she had waited for something magical, something movie-like, and instead was handed a quiet disappointment wrapped in expensive ribbons.

She fed her father first, who kissed her forehead.

Then her brothers. Rohan kissed the top of her head and whispered, "Smile properly, birthday girl. Or I'll tell everyone you cried watching a dog food ad yesterday."

She let out a small laugh. But her heart didn't join in.

Then she fed Arjun's parents—Anuradha and Rakesh Singhania—who adored her like their own.

Anuradha hugged her tightly and whispered in her ear, "You look beautiful, beta. Truly. Happy Birthday." There was a pause. "He'll come. Don't worry."

Anjali swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded. How did she always know what Anjali was feeling without her saying a word?

Finally, she turned to feed Muktha and Tanya, her best friends who had become like a sister. Tanya's story was different from everyone else's in that party. She was raised in an orphanage and had been given a new life through the Khannas' sponsorship. But she had never let it make her feel small. She stood beside Anjali with pride and loyalty etched into her every smile.

"You sure you're okay?" Tanya asked, quietly.

Anjali shrugged and lied like a pro. "I'm turning eighteen. I can't be anything but okay."

Tanya raised a brow. "Liar. But I'll let it slide. You look like a goddess, and I'm obsessed with your hair. Did you sell your soul for those waves?"

Anjali smiled, this time genuinely. "Yes. And I'd do it again."

They giggled. For a moment, the ache inside Anjali quieted.

But as she looked once more at the entrance gate, her smile dimmed.

He wasn't here.

He hadn't come.

And she didn't know whether to be angry... or heartbroken.

*

*

The moment Anjali saw Arjun step into the garden, her entire world lit up.

It was already past 10.30pm. Most of the guests had begun leaving, the music had mellowed, and the evening had settled into soft laughter and lingering conversations.

But for Anjali, time stopped the second her eyes met his.

He was here.

Wearing a crisp black suit and his usual unreadable expression, Arjun walked in like the night itself—cool, calm, and distant.

Her heart did a somersault.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear nervously and began walking toward him, her steps shy but eager. The garden lights bounced off the shimmer of her gown, and for a moment, she hoped he'd look at her like she was special. Like she mattered.

"Hi," she greeted, almost breathless.

"Hi. Hmm... Happy Birthday," he replied flatly, barely glancing at her. His tone held no warmth, no trace of fondness—just a mechanical formality.

It was a stab. But she didn't feel it. Not yet.

Too naïve. Too blinded by the joy of his arrival, she smiled anyway. "Thank you... Thanks for coming. I'm really happy you're here."

Her voice trembled with sincerity, and her eyes... they sparkled with unspoken love.

But Arjun's gaze was already scanning the crowd.

"There's Rahul... I'll just join them," he said without waiting for her reply and walked away toward his friends.

She stood there, smiling like a fool to no one.

Slowly, she turned and walked back toward Muktha and Tanya. Her heart sank, but she forced herself to pretend. Laughter, banter, and celebration filled the air. But she heard none of it.

Her eyes?

They were fixed on him.

Every smile he gave someone else. Every sip of his drink. Every step he took.

She tracked him like a starved soul tracking hope.

And Arjun noticed.

It irritated him. Her gaze. Her presence. Her undivided, obsessive attention.

*

*

"Anjali beta," Manoj called her, motioning toward a few elite guests nearby. "Come, I want you to meet someone."

"Yes, Papa," she said softly, walking toward him.

But just as she took a step forward, she accidentally bumped into a waiter carrying a tray of drinks. The glasses tilted, and the bright-red mocktail splashed all over her gown.

The waiter gasped. "I-I'm so sorry, ma'am!"

Anjali blinked in shock before smiling gently. "It's okay. Really. Don't worry."

She turned to her father. "Papa, I'll just go up and change, okay?"

"Of course, Princess. Take your time."

She began walking toward the house when her steps faltered.

Voices. Familiar ones.

She paused, her heart stuttering.

In a dimly lit corner of the garden, hidden behind a veil of shadows, stood Arjun and Muktha. Their tones were hushed but sharp. Heated.

Anjali's curiosity gripped her. Her feet moved before her brain could stop them.

And then... she heard the words that shattered her world.

"Muktha, you very well know I didn't want to come. Why did you keep calling me?" Arjun's voice was tight with irritation.

"Bhai, Anjali was looking for you all night. She didn't even want to cut her cake without you. What's the harm in being here for a little while?"

"The harm is in the attention she gives me. I didn't ask for it."

Anjali froze. Her breath hitched.

"She really likes you, Bhai," Muktha whispered.

"Well, I don't like her," Arjun snapped.

Every syllable was like a dagger to her chest.

"She's just a kid. Immature. Even a twelve-year-old would be more grown-up than her. She's spoiled, rich, and can't do a single thing without someone doing it for her. She bosses people around like her father and brothers are her staff, and she thinks money can solve everything. She's clingy and keeps chasing me even though I've never encouraged it."

Anjali's throat tightened, tears welling in her eyes.

"She doesn't have a single quality I want in a woman. And definitely not someone I'd want as my wife. Or as mom and dad's daughter-in-law."

Arjun's voice was bitter, angry. Every word thrown carelessly.

Muktha gasped. "Bhai! That's not true! You've misunderstood her so badly. She has the purest heart. She—she loves you more than anyone ever could!"

Arjun scoffed. "Stop it, Muktha. I told you, I'm not interested. And anyway, I'm already in a relationship."

Muktha blinked. "W-What?"

"With my PA. Sneha. We've been dating for over five months now. She's everything I want. Independent. Smart. Classy. She's the kind of woman I can see myself marrying."

Muktha stood there, stunned. "You never told me...?"

"It's new. I didn't want to tell anyone until I was sure. Once things get serious, I'll speak to Mom and Dad."

And then—a loud crash.

Glass shattered against the marble floor.

Both of them turned in shock to see Anjali standing there.

Her eyes were wide. Her hands trembling. The empty glass she had been holding slipped from her fingers and lay in pieces on the ground—just like her heart.

Her face paled as her gaze met Arjun's.

He froze.

For a second, time stood still.

The garden faded. The music vanished.

All that remained was a girl who had loved too innocently... and a boy who had just broken her.