Two and a half years ago...

The city was already awake long before the sun had properly risen. Traffic moved through the streets in a restless stream, shop shutters were being pulled open, delivery vans were stopping outside buildings, and somewhere in the distance, the sound of a temple bell mixed with the noise of morning traffic.

But inside a large hotel on the outskirts of the city, the day had started much earlier. The ballroom was slowly transforming. What had been an empty, elegant hall the previous evening was now covered with boxes, flowers, ribbons, lights, tables, fabric samples and decorations. Staff members moved in every direction. Someone was carrying a ladder. Someone else was trying to fix a string of fairy lights. The decorator was arguing with the florist. A catering supervisor was checking the buffet area.

And in the middle of all of it stood a twenty-two-year-old Anitha. She had a clipboard tucked against her chest and a phone pressed to her ear.

"Ji, stage ke flowers thoda aur left side pe shift kijiye."

(Yes, please move the flowers on the stage a little more toward the left.)

She looked toward the stage.

"No, no... woh white flowers nahi. Pink wale. Haan, wohi."

(No, no... not those white flowers. The pink ones. Yes, those ones.)

She ended the call and immediately turned around.

"Ramesh uncle, entrance pe jo balloons hain na, unka height thoda kam kar dijiye. Bachchon ko obstruct nahi hona chahiye."

(Ramesh uncle, please lower the height of the balloons at the entrance a little. They shouldn't obstruct the children's view.)

The decorator nodded and hurried away. Anitha checked something on her clipboard. Then checked her phone. Then checked the stage again. Everything needed to be perfect. Because this wasn't an ordinary birthday party.

It was Aryaveer's third birthday. Vikas Kohli and Chetna's little boy. And although Anitha had handled several events before, this one had something different. The family. The guest list. The attention. And one particular person who was expected to arrive later that evening. Anitha tried very hard not to think about it. She failed. Completely. She looked down at the clipboard.

Kohli Family — Birthday Celebration

Her eyes remained on the words for a few seconds. Then she quietly whispered to herself,

"Don't be stupid."

She shook her head.

"Tum kaam karne aayi ho."

(You're here to work.)

She took a deep breath. Then continued walking. Their first Kohli-family assignment hadn't been huge. It had started through a recommendation. Someone who had previously worked with Anitha's grandmother had recommended their company to the family. One event became another. A family gathering became a birthday. A birthday became an anniversary.And slowly, their company became someone the family could rely on.

Anitha had met several members of the family through those events. Vikas. Chetna. Bhavna. Sanjay. The children And Virat's mother. She had always been warm toward Anitha. She remembered her name. She asked about her grandmother. She always made sure the staff had eaten. And she never treated Anitha as though she were simply another employee.

That morning, however, Anitha was more nervous than usual. Because she knew Virat was coming.

"Anitha"

She heard her grandmother calling. She turned.

"Nani?"

Her grandmother was standing near the entrance, looking around at the decorations.

"Sab ready hai?"

(Is everything ready?)

"Almost."

Anitha showed her the clipboard.

"Stage done. Catering almost done. Guest tables ready. Return gifts are being arranged. Security team will arrive in an hour."

Her grandmother nodded proudly.

"Good."

Then she looked at Anitha carefully. Anitha immediately knew that expression.

"Nani..."

Her grandmother smiled.

"Virat bhi aa raha hai na?"

(Virat is coming too, right?)

Anitha's face instantly warmed.

"Pata hai."

( I know.)

"Phir?"

(Then?)

"Phir kya?"

(Then what?)

Her grandmother raised an eyebrow.

"Tumhari aankhon mein jo excitement hai, woh kya hai?"

(What's that excitement in your eyes?)

Anitha's mouth fell open.

"Meri aankhon mein kuch nahi hai!"

(There's nothing in my eyes!)

Her grandmother laughed.

"Accha?"

(Really?)

Anitha looked away.

"Nani, please."

Her grandmother gently patted her shoulder.

"Kaam pe dhyaan do."

(Focus on your work.)

Anitha nodded quickly.

"I'm working."

Her grandmother walked away, still smiling.

Anitha exhaled. She really needed to stop behaving like this. She had been watching Virat Kohli on television for years. She had watched his matches. His interviews. His celebrations. She knew his game. She knew his expressions. She knew the way he reacted after losing a match. She knew the way he celebrated a win. She had admired him for years. But admiration was one thing. Seeing him in person was something else. And she was about to find out exactly how different it was.

By evening, the ballroom looked completely different. Soft lights glowed across the ceiling. The stage was covered in pastel decorations. A large birthday backdrop stood behind the cake table. There were little chairs for the children. A play area had been arranged in one corner. The tables were decorated with tiny centrepieces. Everything looked warm, expensive and elegant without becoming excessive. Guests slowly began arriving. Anitha moved from one area to another.

"Welcome, ma'am."

"Your table is this way."

"Yes, the children's area is over there."

"Please let me know if you need anything."

She barely had time to breathe.

Then—

The atmosphere changed. It wasn't loud. There wasn't any announcement. But somehow, people noticed. Anitha was standing near the entrance when she heard a few whispers behind her.

"Virat aa gaya."

(Virat has arrived.)

Her heart stopped. She turned before she could stop herself. And there he was. Virat Kohli. He walked into the venue with his family. Dark trousers. A simple shirt. A watch on his wrist. Nothing particularly dramatic. Yet somehow, the entire room seemed to notice him.

Anitha stared. For two full seconds. Maybe three. Her brain stopped functioning. She had seen him hundreds of times. On television. On her phone. In photographs. But this was different. He was right there. Not behind a screen. Not surrounded by commentators. Not wearing a cricket uniform. Just Virat. Walking toward his family. Her heart began beating ridiculously fast.

"Anitha."

She heard her grandmother's voice. She immediately straightened.

"Ji?"

Her grandmother looked at her.

"Kaam."

(Work.)

Anitha's cheeks turned pink.

"Ji."

(Yes.)

She looked away quickly. But it was too late. She had already seen him. And somehow, the moment had permanently settled somewhere inside her memory.

Before Virat could even greet everyone properly, a tiny boy came running across the room.

"Chachu!"

(Uncle!)

Virat's entire expression changed. The seriousness disappeared instantly. He bent down and opened his arms. Aryaveer ran straight into them. Virat lifted him easily.

"Arre, birthday boy!"

(Oh, birthday boy!)

Aryaveer giggled.

"Chachu!"

Virat kissed the side of his head.

"Happy birthday, champ."

(Happy birthday, champ.)

Anitha watched from a distance. She smiled without realizing it. There was something unexpectedly soft about the way he looked at the child. She quickly looked away. She had work to do.

Vikas was one of the first people to notice Anitha.

"Anitha!"

She turned.

"Hello, sir."

Vikas smiled.

"Sir mat bolo yaar. bhai bolo."

(Don't call me sir. Just call me brother.)

Anitha smiled politely.

"Okay."

Chetna came over with Mehak. At the time, Mehak was only five. She was holding a small doll in one hand and looking around curiously.

"Everything looks beautiful," Chetna said.

"Thank you."

Anitha smiled.

"Happy birthday to Aryaveer."

Chetna nodded.

"Thank you. Tumne bahut achha kiya hai."

(Thank you. You've done a really good job.)

Anitha's smile widened.

"Thank you."

Mehak suddenly looked at her.

"Aapne ye sab banaya?"

(Did you make all this?)

Anitha crouched down.

"Hum sabne milke banaya."

(We all made it together.)

Mehak looked around.

"Pretty hai."

(It's pretty.)

"Thank you."

Mehak smiled. Then she asked the question Anitha had been secretly hoping nobody would ask.

"Aap Virat maamu ko jaanti ho?"

(Do you know Virat uncle?)

Anitha froze.

Chetna laughed.

"Mehak!"

But the little girl continued.

"Aap unse baat karti ho?"

(Do you talk to him?)

Anitha glanced toward Virat. He was still talking to Vikas. She quickly looked back at Mehak.

"Thoda."

(A little.)

Mehak nodded as though this was extremely important information.

"Achha."

(Okay.)

Then she ran away. Anitha laughed softly. Chetna shook her head.

"Don't mind her."

"It's okay."

Anitha smiled.

"She's cute."

A little later, Virat's mother called Anitha over.

"Anitha beta."

Anitha immediately walked toward her.

"Ji, aunty?"

Virat's mother smiled.

"Virat."

Virat turned. She gestured toward Anitha.

"Yeh Anitha hai. Event company se."

(This is Anitha. She's from the event company.)

Virat looked at her. For the first time, their eyes properly met. Anitha's heart skipped. She forced herself to breathe.

"Namaste."

(Hello.)

Virat gave a small nod.

"Hi."

That was it. No dramatic conversation. No instant attraction. Nothing. Just one word. But Anitha would remember it for years. Because she had just spoken to the man she had secretly admired for so long. She smiled awkwardly. Then stepped aside.

Virat turned back toward his family. And within seconds, he had forgotten the interaction. Anitha hadn't. Not even remotely.

Half an hour later, Anitha was near the stage checking the cake table when she heard a small voice.

"Didi..."

She turned.

Aryaveer was standing there.His lower lip was trembling. Anitha immediately crouched down.

"Kya hua?"

(What happened?)

He held up his birthday crown. It was broken.

"Mera crown toot gaya."

(My crown broke.)

Anitha's expression softened.

"Oh."

She took it gently.

"Bas? Itni si baat?"

(That's all? Something this small?)

Aryaveer nodded sadly. Anitha smiled.

"Hum theek kar denge."

(We'll fix it.)

She sat down beside him and carefully adjusted the broken piece.

"Dekho."

(Look.)

She fixed it as best as she could. Aryaveer's face immediately brightened.

"Ho gaya!"

(It's fixed!)

"Haan."

(Yes.)

He suddenly hugged her. Anitha laughed.

"Arre!"

Aryaveer ran away happily. Anitha watched him go. She didn't notice the person standing several feet away. Virat had seen everything. His eyes followed his nephew. Then shifted briefly toward Anitha. She was already back to work. No attempt to get his attention. No nervous glance toward him. Nothing. Virat looked away. It was nothing. Just the event coordinator.

The birthday party continued for hours. Children ran around. Adults talked. Pictures were taken. Aryaveer cut his cake. Mehak insisted on taking photographs with everyone. Anitha moved through the entire event without stopping. She solved problems before anyone else noticed them. When a microphone stopped working, she had another one brought. When one of the children's tables ran out of juice, she fixed it. When an elderly guest needed assistance, she personally made sure someone helped them.

By the end of the evening, her feet hurt. Her hair had started coming loose. Her clipboard was filled with handwritten notes. But everything had gone smoothly. As the final guests began leaving, Virat's mother approached her.

"Anitha."

She turned.

"Ji?"

"Tum bahut achha kaam karti ho."

(You do very good work.)

Anitha smiled.

"Thank you, aunty."

His mother held her hand for a moment.

"Tumhari Nani ko tumpe bahut proud hona chahiye."

(Your grandmother must be very proud of you.)

Anitha's smile became softer.

"She is."

(She is.)

A few feet away, Virat was standing beside Vikas. He glanced toward them. His mother was smiling at Anitha. Anitha was smiling back. He looked away. He didn't think much about it. Not then. For him, it was just another family event.

For Anitha It was the night she had finally met the man whose face had lived inside her television screen for years. She had imagined their first meeting countless times. None of those imaginary versions had included a broken birthday crown, a clipboard, aching feet and a five-year-old girl asking embarrassing questions. And somehow She preferred the real version.

PRESENT

Anitha closed the old event folder. The memory faded. She looked at the date on her laptop. Two and a half years. So much had changed since that evening. Aryaveer was no longer three. He was five now. Mehak was eight. The company had grown. Her responsibilities had grown. And she had somehow gone from being the shy event coordinator at a Kohli family birthday party to becoming Virat Kohli's wife.

Anitha leaned back in her chair. She couldn't help but smile at the absurdity of it. She had once been too star-struck to properly look at him. Now she had to sit across from him and discuss his schedule. She shook her head.

"Life bhi na..."

(Life really is something else...)

Her phone suddenly buzzed. A message from her grandmother.

Nani:

Event ka final guest list mil gaya?

Anitha typed back.

Anitha:

Almost. Virat ke schedule ka confirmation bhi chahiye.

She stared at the message. Then slowly sighed. There it was again. Virat. She had spent years trying not to act like a fan around him. Now she has to live with him under the same roof and also to work around him. And she had no idea that the quiet, intimidating man she was afraid to approach was slowly beginning to notice the woman behind the clipboard. The woman who had existed long before she became his wife. The woman he had never bothered to understand. Not yet. But he would. Eventually. And when he did nothing between them would remain the same.