Vihaan's POV:
I know if she can keep her biggest wound of life to herself, then she will never share anything little, and the back door wasn't just broken, someone actually got to enter there, but why and who?
It's the morning I hated the most, November 11th, my birthday. Ever since Mom left, I have never celebrated my birthday, and this day automatically feels heavy without even realisation.
I took a shower, got ready for the office as always, when suddenly my phone rang, and I couldn't say if I was upset now because this is the call I always wanted, my Amara, my Ama's call.
"Hello," I said. "Mr. Mickelson, I got my leg injured, and I can't walk. It hurts so much. Can you please come?" she said. I want to hear her voice, but never like this, never in pain.
"Where are you? I am coming. Tell me, where are you now?" I said while quickly leaving.
"I am in front of 'New Wings Foundation', please come fast," she said, and the call got disconnected. I drove as fast as I could. I don't care about breaking traffic rules for now because the only thing I can hear now is her painful voice asking for help.
I reached there, but I can only see a crowd surrounding as if there is something at the center or someone. My feet went trembling now, and the next thing I have to see I can't, I don't want to. As I was walking through the crowd and found my way to the center, there she was, Ama, standing, looking at me.
I ran to her as if my life depended on it, and hugged her tightly, but she didn't say anything, just hugged me back. I was relieved for a moment, but then I remembered why I came here and looked at her top to bottom, but there was no such injury.
"Ama,... your leg, you, is it ok?" I asked while looking at her and trying to figure out what was happening.
"Happy Birthday, Mr. Mickelson," she said, smiling and holding both of my hands.
"Don't do that, Ama, it's not funny, I was scared to hell." I was saying she cut me off, saying.
"Okay, sorry for that, but how should I call you, Mr.Mickelson? There is a party organised for your birthday, come and join us?" she answered.
"I am good, look, now don't worry and come with me," she said, walking ahead of me while dragging me by the hand.
Soon, we entered the orphanage. It was well decorated, and the children were waiting for us. As they saw us entering, they all started singing the birthday song together, it was not in unison and chorded, but still felt soothing. Jia was also there waiting for us. As she saw me, she also came ahead and wished me Happy birthday.
We celebrated my birthday there, as I was watching the day, I thought how strange and unpredictable life could be, just in the morning, I was complaining about this day, and now I am thankful. Thankful to life that I met Ama. She definitely knows how to make someone's day better. I am watching her being cheerful and celebrating this day more than I ever could.
The room glowed in a soft amber from the paper lanterns strung across the ceiling. Laughter from the children skipped through the air like a melody I didn't know I needed. I stood there, half-lost, watching Amara move among them—her hair catching the light as she bent to help a little girl with a crooked crown, her voice lilting like a secret meant only for the moment.
How did she do this? Turn a day I'd buried under years of silence into something alive.
She caught my gaze across the room and smiled—small, knowing. For a heartbeat, the noise around us blurred into a single hush, and it felt as though the two of us were standing inside a bubble of warm light while the world kept spinning outside.
Jia came over with a plate of cake, teasing me about not eating, but even while I answered, my eyes strayed back to Amara. The children sang again, off-key but bright, and she clapped along, her laughter like a quiet bell.
I'd told myself long ago that birthdays meant nothing, that I was fine without them. But as the candles flickered and the scent of vanilla drifted up, I felt something shift—like the edges of an old wound softening.
Later, when the last candle had been blown out and the children scattered to play, Amara drifted to my side." Did we manage to surprise the birthday boy?" she asked, voice low, almost shy.
"You did more than that," I said, and the words came out rougher than I intended."You turned a day I wanted to forget… into the one I'll remember."
For a moment, we simply stood there, side by side, watching the lanterns sway in the evening breeze. Her shoulder brushed mine—light as a breath, but enough to set every quiet part of me humming.
And for the first time in years, I thought: November 11th isn't just a date, I should curse, but a day I can celebrate. Maybe it's the day she found me.
Amara's POV:
I am happy seeing him genuinely happy with these little kids. I don't know how his childhood was, but I know that without a mother, it's never so good. He is always so composed and fine with others, but if he is cheerful and funny with me, that means he is just trying to mask his emotions. I just wanted to hold this moment for as long as I can. I was so busy in my thoughts, but came back to reality when I heard a voice, I swear I never want to hear. Olivia Salvatore.
She has to ruin this happy moment with her presence.
"Happy Birthday, Vihaan," she said while hugging him. On seeing her this close to him, I just wanted to say, "This bitch and the audacity of this bitch". But here comes my man, never hugging back any women other than me.
"Thanks a lot, Olivia," he said while trying to free himself from this bitch's arms.
"Was it essential for her to come here? I can sense that she is here with some bad motives." Jia whispered to me.
"I came to your office to wish you Happy Birthday, but Marco said you didn't come."
"And see, I found you here, but it feels like your friends are not happy to see me," she said while looking at us with a fake, annoying face.
"It's not like this; they are just not familiar with you." Mr. Mickelson replied.
I forced a smile, though every nerve in me bristled. Olivia's perfume drifted forward—a sharp, sugary note that clashed with the warm scent of candle wax and cake. She didn't belong in this quiet glow; she was all edges and calculation.
Vihaan stepped back just enough to free himself from her embrace, his shoulders still easy but his eyes carrying that subtle warning I'd come to recognize.
"What a sweet little celebration," Olivia said, glancing around the lantern-lit room as if it were some novelty she might purchase. Her gaze skimmed over Jia and me, lingering a heartbeat too long, a knowing glint tucked behind her practiced smile.
"Amara, isn't it?" she asked, tilting her head like a cat toying with a bird."I've heard… interesting things."
The way she let those last two words breathe made the room feel smaller. I answered evenly, "Good things, I hope," though my brain wanted me to pull her hair out of his head.
Olivia's lips curved, not quite a smile. "Oh, I'm sure Vihaan has shared… something."Then, with a casual grace that was anything but casual, she looped her arm through his."I simply had to see him on his birthday."
Vihaan gently eased her arm away, still polite, still the perfect host."Olivia, thank you for coming," he said, his voice calm but clipped. "Please, enjoy some cake."
Her eyes flicked between us—me, Jia, and Vihaan—measuring, calculating. A single spark of triumph flashed when she caught Jia watching a little too closely.
I felt the first ripple of unease slide through the night, like the moment before a storm when the wind holds its breath.