Today, as Vanya walked toward the Khurana estate, she carried a tray of perfectly baked banana bread—no walnuts, because Aariv was mildly allergic. She held it with careful hands, as if it were a treasure. She had spent nearly two hours getting ready, though she'd told herself and anyone who asked that she was "just dropping off some sweets."

Lavender blouse, slim-fit jeans, lip tint, gold hoops, just enough highlighter—each detail meticulously chosen. Every glance in the mirror had been a rehearsal. Every strand of hair tucked, every crease smoothed. Her heartbeat picked up with every step, and she imagined herself as the heroine in one of her favorite romantic films, stepping into the sunlight with purpose, yet trembling inside.

The massive Khurana gates swung open, and she inhaled the familiar scent of bougainvillea and freshly polished marble. The luxury of the estate—the manicured lawns, the grand arches, the faint perfume of wealth and power—made her straighten her spine just a little taller.

Maybe today... Maybe today would be different. Maybe he'd ask her to stay for tea. Maybe he'd compliment her new hair. Maybe he'd ask what perfume she was wearing. Maybe... maybe he'd say her name like it mattered.

"Vanya."

Her daydream shattered. Her heart flipped like a trapped bird. But it wasn't him.

Just a guard. Smiling. "You're here early today, Didi."

Vanya laughed, cheeks warming, and adjusted the tray. "Just came to drop this off. My special banana bread."

For him. Always for him. The Khurana estate smelled like fresh flowers, polished wood, and impossible dreams. Vanya stepped into the sunlit hallway, her heels clicking softly against the Italian marble, nerves thrumming through every step. The tray wobbled slightly, but she held it steady, because this was the closest she could get to him, the closest she could be to someone who occupied her every thought.

And then—she saw him...Aariv Khurana.

Standing at the foot of the grand staircase, sleeves rolled up, white shirt clinging to his frame in a way that made her pulse stutter. He held his phone, brows slightly furrowed in concentration, but when his gaze lifted and landed on her, the world narrowed. His expression softened, shifted—instantly.

"Vanya," he said, voice smooth, calm, yet impossibly intimate. "Look at you."

Look at you. Two words, and yet they struck her chest like a soft explosion. Her cheeks heated, and her pulse raced. She opened her mouth to speak, but only a small laugh escaped, the tray wobbling dangerously.

He took two steps toward her. "New top?" His gaze lingered briefly, just long enough to make her feel noticed, but not so long as to make it awkward.

"Y-Yeah! I mean, it's nothing special... just something I saw on sale," she laughed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear for what must have been the third time.

He glanced at the tray. "Is that what I think it is?"

"Banana bread," she said quickly, heart fluttering. "No walnuts."

He smirked. "You remember."

Of course I do, she wanted to scream inside. I remember every little thing about you.

Instead, she gave a small shrug. "Once a professor, always a good student."

He chuckled, warm and unhurried, and for a moment, Vanya felt like she was the only person in the world.

"Honestly, Vanya, you spoil me."

She swallowed the glee threatening to escape. Her hands trembled slightly, the tray now forgotten in his steady grasp. He brushed his fingers against hers as he took it, and the simple contact made her heart skip.

"You look... different," he said finally, eyes scanning her with a subtle intensity, pausing just long enough to make her believe he noticed. "Good different."

That single sentence would be rewritten in her journal a dozen times tonight, each word pressed into memory like a prayer.

"I should get going—college deadlines and all," she said, though every fiber of her being wanted to stay.

Aariv nodded, already returning to his phone. "Drive safe. And hey... thanks for this. Really?"

He thanked me... He noticed my top.... He said I looked different.

Vanya walked out of the Khurana house feeling lighter than air, her steps almost skipping, her heart dancing to a soundtrack only she could hear. Maybe she wasn't delusional. Maybe, just maybe, he was finally seeing her.

Vanya Kapoor had never felt this... seen. Not beautiful. Not suddenly a heroine. But seen. Admired, perhaps. Noticed by the man she had dreamt about since she was seventeen?  Definitely.

Aariv's voice echoed in her mind, a melody she would replay over and over:

"You look... good different."

"You spoil me."

"You remember."

She carried it with her all day, each second between lectures, student presentations, and grading answer sheets. Even while explaining the socio-political themes in Mrs. Dalloway, her mind floated back to the estate.

She wore her smile like a secret perfume, catching glances from her students.

"Ma'am... You look happy today," one girl said, teasing.

"I like happy," Vanya replied, tucking her hair behind her ear. "It suits me, doesn't it?"

It wasn't just happiness. It was hope. A slippery, dangerous hope that made ordinary moments feel cinematic. Because maybe... maybe next time he would ask her to stay. Maybe he would message her. Maybe he would see her again.

Maybe he had already started to. Her phone buzzed just as she was about to leave for college.

"Vanya beta, how are you?" came the chirpy voice of her father's sister. Her aunt's tone was warm, but the underlying purpose was always the same. Matchmaking.

"I'm fine, aunty," Vanya said, forcing a lightness into her voice.

"I've found someone for you," her aunt began, immediately launching into details. "Good family, well-educated, parents adore your photo. He's from a respectable household, Vanya beta."

Vanya's stomach tightened. She had imagined this conversation countless times, but it never got any easier. "Aunty... I'm not ready yet," she said gently, hoping the words would be enough.

"Not ready?" Her aunt's voice rose just a little. "Vanya! You're almost thirty! You'll remain a spinster if you don't settle down soon. Life doesn't wait, you know."

"I... I'll tell you when I find someone," Vanya said firmly, trying to sound confident. "I promise. I'll call you myself."

"Don't delay too long, beta," her aunt warned, a note of exasperation in her voice.

Vanya gave a soft laugh, cutting the call quickly before more words could escape. She placed her phone on the desk and excused herself, retreating to her room. She shut the door behind her, and the cheerful illusion of the day—the floating, romantic happiness she had carried since her encounter with Aariv—crumbled.

Her heart didn't feel light anymore. It sat heavily in her chest, an ache pressing down on the delicate daydream she'd wrapped herself in all day.

In the quiet, she sank onto her bed and pulled out her worn notebook—Aariv's World. The leather cover smelled faintly of old paper and hope. Her fingers trembled slightly as she turned to the last entry:

"White shirt. Smiled at me. Said I looked different. Touched my hand. Remembered no walnuts. Worth the weight of the world."

She closed the notebook gently, tracing the edges with her thumb.

And then, into the silence of her room, she whispered, almost as if confessing to the air itself, "It's you. It's only ever been you."

The words hung there, fragile and intimate, a secret tether to the man who had unknowingly claimed her heart. No one else existed in that moment. No matchmaking, no college deadlines, no bustling world outside her room. Just him. Just Aariv.

And somehow, that was enough.