!Story Time!
*Dev's Point of View**
The sun had barely risen when I arrived at the café. The usual clatter of morning customers and clinking cutlery filled the air, but my mind was elsewhere. I spotted Sahil and Justin sitting at a corner table by the window, already deep in conversation.
Sliding into the seat next to Sahil, I leaned in and asked, "What's the matter? Why did you call me so early?"
Sahil's eyes were sharp and unwavering. "None of the people who attacked Kartik's wedding survived. But we found out who was behind the attack. Give me two days… I'll catch him."
Justin's expression hardened. "Take all the time you need, but I want *all* of them. If they attacked once, they can do it again—anytime, anywhere."
"You're right," I agreed grimly. "Our lives—and the girls'—could be in danger."
As if on cue, the waiter appeared at our table. Justin waved him off gently and ordered coffee for all of us.
He turned to us and said in a lower voice, "Increase their security, but don't let them know what's going on. They don't need to panic."
"Don't worry," I nodded. "I'll handle it. They won't even notice, but they'll be protected."
Sahil exhaled, then added, "And don't tell Kartik. He's happy—just got married. He's leaving for his honeymoon. Let's not drag him into this mess."
Justin and I exchanged a silent nod. Our coffee arrived, bringing with it a momentary sense of normalcy.
As we sipped, Sahil added casually, "There's a party tomorrow. Be on time. I'll message the address."
"A party?" I raised an eyebrow.
"It's Ishika's birthday," he said with a small smile. "Radhika, Gulafsha, and I planned everything together. We've booked a restaurant to celebrate."
"Gulafsha didn't tell me," I said, surprised.
"Same with Radhika," Justin added.
"I told them not to. You guys don't help with planning anyway," Sahil smirked.
Justin and I exchanged amused glances.
"Don't give me that look. Just be there on time. Anyway, I'm going back to Italy next month for business. I'll be away from Ishika for a while. I want to take her along, but..."
"But what about her job?" I asked.
"Exactly. That's what I'm thinking," Sahil sighed.
Justin leaned back, thoughtful. "I want to take Radhika to Italy too. Show her my childhood home. Let my mom know about her."
"I'm thinking of talking to Gulafsha's family first," I confessed. "Heard they're looking for a match for her."
Sahil laughed, looking between us. "We're all in the same boat. We want to take them with us, but we can't just decide that for them."
"Exactly," Justin agreed. "They have their own dreams, lives. Let them decide."
Sahil raised his coffee in a quiet toast. "To love. Complicated, chaotic, but worth every second."
Soon after, I glanced at the time. "Alright, I've got a business meeting. I need to go."
"Same here," Justin stood. "Let's meet at the party tomorrow."
We both waved to Sahil, who remained at the table, already tapping away on his phone—lost in thoughts and plans.
---
### **Chapter 8: The Unseen Gift**
**Ishika's Point of View**
Birthdays.
For most people, they bring cake, laughter, and love.
For me? Just another ordinary day.
I had been sprawled on the sofa all morning, snacking and half-watching some TV drama I wasn't even following. The sun filtered through the windows, casting long shadows across the living room. The silence felt heavier today—like it had something to say.
It was my birthday.
And I wasn't in the mood for anything.
Not that anyone had given me a reason to be. Ever since childhood, my birthdays felt...forgotten. My mother hadn't called or messaged. Probably didn't even remember. She never did.
Friends messaged, calls came in—I replied with a simple "thank you" before tossing my phone back onto the table like it was burning my hands.
Sahil hadn't called either. Not a text. Not even a missed call.
That hurt the most.
I had waited all morning, pretending I wasn't checking my phone every two minutes. Then, frustrated, I gave in and called him myself—breaking my own silent vow not to be the one who always calls first.
No answer.
I tried to brush it off. *Maybe he's busy. Maybe he's planning something.* I wasn't sure whether I was hopeful or just fooling myself.
Just as I tore open another packet of chips, the doorbell rang.
I frowned. "Who's here at this hour?"
Dragging myself off the couch, I opened the door to find a delivery guy holding a small box. He handed it to me with a polite nod. On top of the box was a single rose petal and a flower—fresh and fragrant, like it had just been picked.
I took the package and closed the door slowly, heart suddenly beating a little faster.
I sat on the sofa again and picked up the card nestled beside the rose.
***Happy Birthday, Sweetheart.***
I stared at the handwriting. It was Sahil's. I knew it. Every curve of those letters, every stroke.
My breath caught as I saw the inscription on the box: ***Open Me***.
I opened it slowly. Inside was another card and the most beautiful dress I had ever seen. Deep royal blue with intricate embroidery—elegant, yet soft. It looked like it was made just for me.
The second card read:
**Happy Birthday, baby.
This is a small surprise.
Meet me outside your house at 4:00 PM.**
I blinked back the sudden tears forming in my eyes. My fingers brushed the fabric of the dress—so smooth, so perfect.
I rushed to my room, excitement pulsing in my veins for the first time in the day. I changed into the dress and stood in front of the mirror. For once, I didn't feel invisible.
For once, I felt...seen.
I tried calling Sahil, desperate to hear his voice, to say *thank you* or maybe *I miss you*—but again, no answer.
And yet, this time, I didn't feel disappointed.
Because I knew\... the real surprise was still waiting.
........^.^
Thank you....