The warm, golden glow of the evening sun bathed the lush garden in light, casting long shadows across the party guests who mingled, laughed, and clinked glasses in celebration. Kanya adjusted her lilac silk dress nervously, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her shawl. Her heart pounded against her chest as her gaze fixated on the tall figure standing a few feet away. Aran.
He looked like he stepped out of a glossy magazine, his black tailored suit fitting him perfectly, his strong jawline and sharp features highlighted by the setting sun. His signature cold aura drew everyone's attention, but it was the girl clinging to his arm that made Kanya's stomach twist uncomfortably. She was stunning, tall with sleek, jet-black hair and a perfectly coordinated dress. She whispered something into Aran's ear, earning a faint smirk in return.
Kanya hesitated, clutching the small gift box in her hand. Her brother's voice echoed in her head, encouraging her. 'He's not as cold as he seems, Nong Kanya. You've just got to take the first step.'
Taking a deep breath, Kanya walked toward Aran, her heels clicking against the stone pathway. She had rehearsed this a thousand times, her confession ready, her heart full of hope. As she approached, Aran glanced in her direction, his dark eyes locking onto hers. His expression didn't soften. If anything, it grew colder.
"Aran…" Kanya's voice wavered slightly, but she pushed forward. "Can I… talk to you for a moment? Alone?"
The girl on his arm raised an elegant brow, clearly annoyed, but Aran sighed and nodded. "Fine." He disentangled himself from the girl, who pouted before sauntering off.
Kanya led him to a quieter corner of the garden, her palms sweating. She turned to face him, summoning every ounce of courage she had.
"I… I like you, Aran" she blurted out, her cheeks burning. "I've liked you for years. I know you're my brother's best friend, but I couldn't keep it to myself anymore. I just—"
"Kanya, stop." Aran's cold, detached voice cut through her confession like a blade. She froze, her heart sinking.
He crossed his arms, his dark gaze piercing. "Are you serious? You've got a childish crush on me, and you thought telling me now, at your brother's birthday party, was a good idea?" His tone was laced with disdain.
Kanya's breath hitched. "I—I thought you deserved to know how I feel…"
Aran scoffed, shaking his head. "Listen, Kanya. You're just a kid. I don't have time for childish games or awkward crushes. What makes you think I'd ever be interested in someone like you?"
His words hit her like a punch to the stomach. She blinked back the tears threatening to fall, her vision blurring. "But… I thought—"
"You thought wrong." He stepped closer, his towering frame casting a shadow over her. "I'm not your prince charming, Kanya. I don't do relationships, and even if I did, I'd never consider someone like you. You're naive, clingy, and completely out of your depth."
Tears spilled down Kanya's cheeks despite her best efforts to hold them back. "You didn't have to be so cruel" she whispered, her voice cracking.
"Cruel? It's better you hear the truth now than embarrass yourself further" he said, his tone devoid of any emotion. "Don't waste your time on me, Kanya. Grow up."
With that, he turned and walked away, his rejection final, his silhouette disappearing into the crowd. Kanya stood frozen, her heart shattered into pieces, her gift box slipping from her hands and landing on the ground with a soft thud.
The world seemed to blur around her, the laughter and chatter of the party guests becoming a distant hum. All she could feel was the sting of his words, the ache in her chest, and the bitter humiliation of laying her heart bare only to have it crushed underfoot.
For the rest of the evening, Kanya avoided everyone, retreating to the solitude of her room. Her brother knocked on her door several times, but she pretended to be asleep. She didn't have the strength to face him—or anyone else.
That night, as she curled up in her bed, tears soaking her pillow, Kanya made a silent vow. She would never let Aran—or anyone—see her vulnerable again. If he thought she was naive and weak, she'd prove him wrong. She'd bury this heartbreak deep inside and build walls so high, no one would ever hurt her like this again.
Aran's cold rejection would haunt her for years to come, shaping the woman she would become. But for now, she was just a heartbroken girl, staring into the darkness, wondering why the man she loved couldn't see her worth.
5 YEARS LATER...
The bustling streets of New York buzzed with life, the cacophony of honking taxis, street performers, and hurried pedestrians serving as a symphony of organized chaos. For Kanya, it was just another ordinary day in the city that had become her home. Five years had passed since she left Thailand, leaving behind painful memories and the version of herself that she hated the most.
Now, she was unrecognizable. Her long, dark hair cascaded down her back in soft waves, her piercing eyes framed by sharp winged eyeliner, and her presence exuded a bold, unapologetic confidence. The young girl who once fumbled with words and let her emotions dictate her actions was long gone. In her place was a striking woman who took no nonsense from anyone. She was fearless, fierce, and undeniably captivating—someone who turned heads wherever she went.
But beneath the surface, there were shadows she didn't talk about. Memories she had locked away, actions she had buried deep. There was no denying that the blood on her hands still lingered—a secret she carried like a hidden dagger. The girl who had been in love with Aran was nothing more than a memory now, erased by Kanya's own hands. It was a chapter she refused to revisit, even as the nightmares sometimes clawed their way back.
She finished her modeling gig for the day, her heels clicking against the tiled floor as she exited the shoot. The cameras loved her, but the industry respected her. Kanya was known for her sharp tongue and her ability to command attention without trying. Her phone buzzed with notifications, but she ignored them. She wanted nothing more than to go home, shut the world out, and breathe in the solitude of her apartment.
Her sanctuary was a minimalist haven of white and black, accented with soft hues of beige. It was her safe space, the only place where she could let her guard down. Tossing her bag onto the couch, she kicked off her heels and poured herself a glass of wine. As she leaned against the counter, her thoughts began to spiral.
Thailand.
Her brother.
Aran.
No matter how far she ran or how much she transformed herself, the memories of that garden, his icy gaze, and his cruel words haunted her. Even now, her hatred for him burned fiercely. Or so she thought.
The shrill ring of her phone shattered her reverie. Startled, she fumbled to grab it, her brows furrowing as she saw her mother's name flash across the screen. She hadn't spoken to her parents much since she moved away, maintaining a polite but distant relationship.
"Kanya" her mother's voice was trembling, barely audible. "It's… it's your brother."
The world seemed to stop. Her chest tightened as dread clawed at her. "What about him?" she whispered, her voice barely steady.
"There was an accident. He… he's gone."
The words hit her like a freight train. Her grip on the phone faltered, and the glass of wine slipped from her other hand, shattering on the tiled floor.
"I'm booking your ticket" her mother continued, her voice breaking. "You need to come home."
Home. A place she had sworn never to return to.
Hours later, Kanya found herself on a flight to Thailand, her mind a storm of emotions. Grief, anger, and unease swirled within her, but one feeling loomed above all else—dread. She wasn't ready to face her family. She wasn't ready to face the memories. And she certainly wasn't ready to face.....him.
The funeral was somber, the air thick with sorrow. Kanya stood at the edge of the crowd, her sunglasses hiding the emotions she refused to let anyone see. She had barely spoken since she arrived, her mother's tear-streaked face and the sight of her brother's framed photo too much to bear.
As she turned to scan the gathering, her breath caught in her throat.
There he was.
Aran.
Even after all these years, his presence was like a punch to the gut. He stood tall and composed, his black suit tailored to perfection, his broad shoulders and lean frame exuding authority. His jet-black hair was slicked back, his sharp jawline and high cheekbones only accentuating his striking features. His dark eyes, cold and unreadable, were the same as she remembered—eyes that once shattered her heart without mercy.
But there was something else, something deeper in the way he carried himself now. A weight, perhaps. A hint of tiredness beneath the stoic mask.
Her gaze locked with his, and the world around them seemed to fade.
For a moment, neither of them moved. Neither of them spoke.
The years of distance, pain, and bitterness all condensed into that single moment of eye contact. Kanya's heart raced, her fists clenched at her sides. She thought she hated him. She was sure of it. But the ache in her chest betrayed her.
And as for Aran, his gaze lingered on hers longer than it should have, his expression unreadable.
The air between them crackled with unspoken words, unresolved tension, and something neither of them dared to name.
It was the point again where it all began.... with her looking into his cold, piercing eyes.