Haya stood before the tall mirror, her fingers expertly tracing a delicate line of kohl beneath her eyes, enhancing their deep, expressive warmth.

The sleek slip dress she wore hugged her figure perfectly, its hem grazing just below her knees. She slipped on a pair of elegant heels, their soft click on the floor syncing with her steadying breath.

Taking a moment, she surveyed her reflection with a critical eye, adjusting a stray lock of hair before lifting her purse and stepping out of her apartment, the lock clicking softly behind her.

Aditya had left earlier that day, a shadow of recent upheaval trailing behind him, and now she faced the dilemma of what to bring as gifts. After mulling over options, she settled on a carefully chosen trio: his favorite perfume, a bottle of exquisite wine for his father—confirmed with Adi himself—and a pair of cufflinks for Abheer, the birthday boy.

Despite the sting to her wallet, she justified the expenses. It was Aditya’s milestone, and she wanted to stand by him no matter what.

No sooner had she slid into her car than her phone buzzed insistently.

"Yes?" she answered, shifting it to speaker mode as she buckled her seatbelt.

"Where are you? Should I send a driver? The party’s already underway, and the announcements will start soon. Five minutes, or else—"

"Hold on, I’m coming," she cut in, a smile curling her lips at his impatience before ending the call.

Her nerves fluttered beneath her poised exterior. After seven years apart, tonight would be the first time she’d meet his parents—and at a party, no less.

Part of her felt calm, almost indifferent, but a nagging worry clung to her. What judgments would they pass? For years, whispers had swirled around her friendship with Aditya—questions and assumptions about a man and woman’s platonic bond, as if that line were so easily blurred.

She silently wished his parents would see through the noise, just as hers had: a friendship could be pure, without hidden motives.

The song playing softly through the car’s speakers carried her away—"…cause baby, I could build a castle out of all the bricks they threw at me…" she sang along, the familiar melody easing her heartbeat.

The venue came into view, its grandeur undeniable. She glanced in her rearview mirror, adjusted her makeup once more, then switched off the engine as the song reached its end.

"Quite the place," she murmured, stepping out with a deep breath, clutching her gifts tightly.

Inside, the banquet hall shimmered with opulence—crystal chandeliers dripped light onto polished marble floors, but beneath the glitter, Haya noted the hollow smiles and distracted eyes. The atmosphere felt curated, as if everyone were actors playing their parts in a scripted performance.

Her gaze swept the crowd until it landed on Aditya. Relief washed over her, replacing the earlier tension. He caught her eye and waved energetically, excusing himself from a conversation as he made his way toward her.

"Finally looking human," he teased, stopping just short of her.

"Wish I could say the same about you," she shot back, a playful smirk tugging her lips as she deliberately stepped on his foot.

He glanced around furtively before tugging at a loose strand of her hair, his grip firm but familiar.

"Where’s my gift?" he demanded with mock sternness.

"It’s on the gift table with the rest," she replied, arching an eyebrow. "But can I ask something?"

"Shoot."

"Do you actually keep these gifts, or do they just get donated, unseen?"

He laughed softly. "Stupid question. We keep the useful ones, and donate the rest. Why?"

"Because I wasn’t about to leave those cufflinks there—they nearly cost me a kidney," she quipped, brandishing her clutch as proof.

He trailed off, his eyes flickering to a figure in the distance.

"Who’s that?" she asked, following his gaze.

"Don’t look," he warned sharply, but curiosity got the better of her. She turned, lips curving in a sly smile.

"Haya—" Aditya began, but she was already slipping away.

"Here I go," she teased.

His hand caught her arm, pulling her back gently. "Stay here," he commanded softly.

"Wrong song," she muttered, folding her arms with a grin.

"Will you shut up?" he groaned, rolling his eyes.

"At least tell me the name first," she bargained, tapping her foot impatiently.

He sighed dramatically but relented. "Come meet Ma and Papa."

"But—"

"They’re waiting," he insisted, guiding her through the crowd.

Haya took a steadying breath as she approached Aditya’s parents. "Namaste," she greeted, bowing her head respectfully.

Both returned her smile warmly, easing some of her tension as small talk blossomed between them.

"Are you the one who cut his hair last month?" Abheer Agnihotri asked with an amused sparkle in his eyes.

"Oh no, he told you?" she gasped, shooting Aditya a mock glare. He had promised to keep it a secret.

"It’s okay. Thank you for that. We were all tired of his homeless look," Abheer chuckled.

"I know, right? It was either braids or a trim, and he picked the latter," Haya said, eyes wide as she nodded emphatically.

"I always wanted a daughter," his mother smiled gently. "Maybe you should’ve braided his hair."

"Mom! Men can rock braids too," Aditya argued.

"Alright, time for announcements," he said, ushering his parents to their seats. "Papa, you go first. Haya, sit with Ma and—"

"I’ll cheer the loudest for you!" Haya chimed in.

"That’s my girl. Don’t make me laugh up there," he teased.

Once they were settled, he moved toward the stage.

"He looks happy, doesn’t he?" a voice beside Haya asked.

She turned, suppressing a smile as she recognized the speaker—the same woman Aditya had tried to divert her attention from earlier.

"Yeah, he’s earned it," Haya replied, extending her hand. "I’m Haya."

"Naina," the woman smiled back.

"So, how do you know him?" Haya asked.

"He’s sort of my boss," Naina answered smoothly. "I work at the company."

"Right," Haya nodded, about to continue, when the announcement interrupted them.

Her attention shifted to Aditya’s father delivering a speech. His words flowed, but her mind drifted, eyes wandering the room filled with unfamiliar faces.

And then she saw him—the man standing beside Aditya. The briefest glimpse made her pause, a small smile playing on her lips as she caught the shadow of a dimple.

Their eyes met for a fleeting moment before he turned back to the speech, leaving Haya’s heart unexpectedly stirred.

Though the celebration buzzed around them, a quiet current of connection rippled beneath the surface, hinting at stories yet to unfold.