SHATTERED HEART: Because every love story has an ending

**Chapter 8: The Birthday**

**Chapter 8: The Birthday**

The apartment was filled with the soft glow of candlelight, the scent of freshly cooked food lingering in the air. Yuvan stood in the kitchen, stirring a pot of curry with a quiet determination. Today was Irish’s birthday, and despite everything—the doubts, the silence, the painful discoveries—he had wanted to make it special. He had wanted, just for one night, to hold on to the thread of hope that they could still find their way back to each other.

But the emptiness of the apartment gnawed at him. He glanced at the clock for the hundredth time, watching the minutes tick by. Irish was supposed to be home by now. **Where was she?** He tried calling, but it went straight to voicemail. His heart, already fragile, began to pound with a familiar, growing dread.

Then came the message.

“I have a meeting tomorrow. Can’t make it for dinner tonight. Sorry.”

That was it. No explanation. No apology. Just a hollow excuse that left Yuvan standing there, the weight of his efforts hanging heavy in the air. His hand tightened around the phone, the reality of the situation sinking deeper into his bones. **She wasn’t coming.** She didn’t care about the dinner, about the candles, about the love he had poured into the evening. Not anymore.

His chest tightened as a surge of anger rose within him, mixing with the hurt that had been festering for weeks. He had tried so hard to hold it all together, to keep his suspicions at bay, to give her the benefit of the doubt. But this was too much. **A meeting? On her birthday?**

Yuvan couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. The lie was too obvious, too careless. He could feel it in his gut—the truth he had been avoiding, the one that was now staring him in the face. He couldn’t sit in this empty apartment any longer, surrounded by the dinner that would go uneaten, the candles that would burn out unnoticed. He needed to find her. He needed to know the truth.

Grabbing his coat, Yuvan left the apartment, his heart heavy with the weight of betrayal. The streets were cold and quiet, but inside, his thoughts were anything but. **Where is she?** His mind raced, replaying every suspicious moment from the past few months. The late nights, the excuses, the distance. And now, her absence on a night that should have meant something—should have meant everything.

As he wandered through the city, unsure of where to go, he found himself heading toward the places he knew Irish liked to visit. He walked with a growing sense of unease, his feet carrying him faster with each step. And then, by chance, he bumped into one of her friends outside a cafe.

“Yuvan?” the friend said, surprised. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m just looking for Irish,” Yuvan replied, trying to keep his voice calm, though inside, his heart was pounding.

“Oh,” the friend said casually, “she’s at a club with Joseph and some classmates. They’ve been out celebrating.”

Yuvan felt the world tilt beneath him. The words echoed in his mind, each one a sharp blow to his heart. **A club? With Joseph?** He didn’t even have to ask who Joseph was—he already knew. He had seen the looks, the brief interactions, the tension that seemed to hover around them every time they were in the same room. And now, it was all falling into place.

For a moment, Yuvan stood frozen, unable to move or speak. His worst fears, the ones he had been trying so hard to deny, had been confirmed in the most casual, indifferent way. His heart shattered, the pieces falling like shards of glass, cutting him deeper with every breath.

“I… I see,” Yuvan finally managed to say, his voice hollow. “Thanks.”

He turned and walked away, barely able to hear the friend’s parting words. The streets felt colder now, the air biting at his skin, but nothing could compare to the cold that had settled inside him. The confirmation of Irish’s betrayal was more than he could bear. **She had chosen someone else.** She had chosen to be with Joseph, to spend her birthday with him instead of the man who had loved her for eighteen years.