Hi love 💖

Kese ho sab?

So, here I am introducing my new book with the first chapter of "Bound By Choice"

Also I want to request something from all of you, please leave your reviews on the chapter. Like it or Comment on it or do both, it will really mean alot to me.

As it will really help me to know if you are liking the chapter or not, or if I have something to improve or not.

And please don't be a silent reader, if you can't comment then just hit the like button.

Its a request 💗

Have a happy reading..

___

Simran’s POV

If you’d asked me a year ago what I thought about arranged marriage, I would’ve said, “Maybe… but only if I get to decide when my heart says yes.”

I wasn’t against it, not the way my friends in Delhi were, but I always imagined that I’d know when the time was right.

I was sitting at the dining table that Sunday morning, flipping through the newspaper, when Papa walked in with that half-smile that usually meant he had something to say but wasn’t sure how to start.

“Simran beta,” he said, clearing his throat. “Ek baat karni thi.”

{“Simran beta, I wanted to talk to you about something.”}

I looked up, suspiciously. “Batao na, Papa. Kya baat hai?”

{"Tell me, Papa. What's the matter?"}

He took a sip of chai and said casually, “Tum Sarthak ka naam pehli baar sun rahi hogi shayad?”

{“Maybe you are hearing Sarthak's name for the first time?”}

I frowned. “Kaun Sarthak?”

{“Who is Sarthak?”}

“I have a business partner and who is also my friend, Mahesh ji,”he said. “Unke dost hain Mr. Devgan - Jodhpur se. Unka beta hai Sarthak. Construction company chalate hain wahan. Bahut hi ache log hain, same vo bhi Vishwakarma background se hi hai.”

{“He has a friend, Mr. Devgan, from Jodhpur. His son is Sarthak. He runs a construction company there. They are very nice people, and they too comes from a Vishwakarma background.”}

Maa, who’d been cutting fruits nearby, gave me that gentle smile she always used when she wanted me to listen before reacting.

“He has sent Sarthak's proposal for you,”she said softly.

I froze, spoon halfway to my mouth. “Proposal?”

Papa nodded, smiling carefully. “Yes. And we just wanted to talk. Mahesh ji said the guy is very nice, well-educated, and responsible too. And most importantly, he's also open to an arranged marriage, but at his own pace. No hurry.”

That last line caught me off guard. “At his own pace.”

It wasn’t often you heard that from a family.

I leaned back in my chair, still unsure how to respond. “Papa, main abhi ready nahi hoon shaadi ke liye. Mujhe lagta hai—”

{“Papa, I'm not ready for marriage yet. I think—”}

“We are not saying that you should get married tomorrow only,”he interrupted gently. “Just meet him once. See what kind of a guy he is. You can make the decision yourself.”

Maa placed a bowl of papaya in front of me. “Simran, love marriage isn't always the solution. Sometimes love happens slowly... and then it grows deeper.”

Her voice was calm, reassuring - the kind that reminded she’d had an arranged marriage too, yet shared a love story that could make any movie look pale.

I didn’t reply, just nodded. My younger brother Aarav, who’d been eavesdropping from behind the fridge door, suddenly popped out and grinned. “Didi ki shaadi hone wali hai!”

{“Sister is going to get married!”}

I glared. “Aarav, shut up!”

He laughed and ran out, shouting, “Maa! Didi dulhan banegi!”

{"Mom! Didi will become a bride!"}

Papa chuckled under his breath. “See? He's the most excited person in the whole house.”

---

That evening, after dinner, Maa came into my room. She sat beside me, her fingers brushing my hair.

“We're not forcing you,” she said softly.

“Just meet him once. Sometimes you have to meet to understand the heart.”

Her words stayed with me. Maybe meeting him didn’t mean agreeing to anything.

So I said yes.

---

Two days later, the Devgan family came to our house.

I wasn’t nervous until Maa handed me a light peach suit and said, “Wear this. It will look beautiful.”

When I stepped out into the living room, I saw them - Sarthak’s parents, his younger brothers, and then him.

He was dressed simply - crisp white shirt, light blue jeans, clean-shaven. Not conventionally movie-star handsome, but there was something disarmingly calm about him. The kind of person who doesn’t need to speak too much to be noticed.

Our parents began chatting easily, laughter filling the room. It felt more like a family get-together than a proposal meeting. Sarthak’s mother, was warm and affectionate, constantly praising Maa’s hospitality. She said, smiling at me with genuine warmth. “Humari beti nahi hai na… toh socha agar ye aa gayi toh ghar poora ho jayega.”

{“We don't have a daughter... So I thought if she comes then the house will be complete.”}

Something about the way she said that felt softened me.

After a while, Sarthak’s father asked, “Let these two talk a little?”

Everyone smiled knowingly, and soon, we were standing on the balcony together.

For a few seconds, neither of us spoke. Then he looked at me and said, “So… you’re okay with this meeting?”

I smiled faintly. “I wasn’t sure at first. But my parents said you’re also not in a hurry. That made it easier.”

He chuckled, eyes steady. “Mujhe bhi same lagta hai. Mujhe koi aisa chahiye jo samjhe… ki shaadi ek process hai, not a checkbox.”

{“I feel that way too, same. I want someone who understands... that marriage is a process, not a checkbox.”}

I blinked, surprised. Most boys I’d met earlier (thanks to nosy relatives) had been eager to “settle me down” quickly.

But he seems different - maybe steady and thoughtful.

We talked for fifteen minutes - about work, family, random things. He told me he’d grown up in Karnal but shifted to Jodhpur when his father expanded their construction company. “Par dil abhi bhi yahin hai,” he’d said with a half-smile.

{“But my heart is still here.”}

When he spoke, his voice was calm but layered with sincerity. “Main bhi believe karta hoon ki pyaar waqt se aata hai. Force se nahi.”

Something in me exhaled quietly.

It wasn’t a confession, not even close, but it was the first time I’d felt understood by a stranger.

When we came back inside, our parents were smiling. Maa looked at me, her eyes asking what my heart hadn’t yet answered.

I just said, “He’s… easy to talk to.”

That night, lying in bed, I replayed our short conversation in my mind.

He’s easy to talk to. It wasn’t much, but it was a beginning.

And sometimes, beginnings are enough.

.