Simran’s POV

It had been ten days since we’d returned from Jodhpur, and yet, every corner of our house still whispered his name.

The green dupatta I’d worn on the engagement day was still hanging on the chair in my room, untouched - maybe because every time I looked at it, I remembered the way Sarthak’s eyes had softened for a second when he’d seen me walk in.

Life in Karnal had gone back to its usual pace - Papa going to the office, Maa checking the household accounts, Aarav glued to his phone. But inside me, something had quietly shifted.

I’d catch myself smiling while pouring chai, or replaying the moment he’d tucked that strand of hair behind my ear. It was a just small, invisible threads pulling me back to that one quiet man who rarely said much but made every word count.

---

That evening, the air was heavy with the smell of rain. Maa was folding laundry while I scrolled through my phone, pretending not to wait for his message.

And then - the phone buzzed.

Sarthak calling.

My heart jumped, traitor that it was. I cleared my throat, trying to sound normal before picking up.

“Hello?”

“Hi.” His voice was calm, deep, familiar. “Am I disturbing you?”

“No… not at all.”

“Good,” he said, a hint of relief in his tone. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be busy.”

“I was just… helping Maa,” I lied.

He chuckled softly. “You sound like you were waiting for my call.”

My cheeks warmed up instantly. “Aapko kaafi confidence hai apne upar.”

{“You have a lot of confidence in yourself.”}

He laughed, the kind of laugh that wasn’t loud but made you feel it anyway. “Maybe because I was hoping you were.”

The silence that followed after that wasn’t awkward - it was just full and comfortable.

“So,” I said finally, “how’s work?”

“Same. Construction sites, deadlines, dust everywhere. Nothing interesting.”

“Hmm,” I teased. “Toh phir mujhe call kyu kiya? Bore ho rahe the?”

{"Then why did you call me? Were you bored?"}

“Maybe,” he said quietly. “Or maybe I missed your voice.”

The words landed gently, but they made my pulse quicken. I didn’t know what to say.

He filled the pause himself, “Actually, Papa was talking to your father today. They were discussing the wedding timeline.”

My stomach flipped. “Already?”

“Hmm. They said maybe three months from now. Simple wedding, Karnal mein.”

“Oh.” It came out softer than I intended. “That soon.”

“Too soon?”

“No,” I said quickly. “Bas… itni jaldi sab ho jayega, socha nahi tha.”

{“That… I didn't think everything would happen so quickly.”}

He was smiling - I could feel it in his voice. “You’ll have to tolerate me sooner than expected, then.”

“Dekhte hain kaun kis ko tolerate karta hai,” I shot back.

{“Let's see who tolerates whom.”}

“Challenge accepted,” he said.

And somehow, just like that, the heaviness in my chest melted. We talked for a long time after that - about random things. His mother’s obsession with mango pickle. My brother’s annoying habits. The way Jodhpur’s heat still lingered in his evenings.

Somewhere in the middle, he said softly, “Simran?”

“Hm?”

“I don’t talk much, you’ve probably noticed.”

“I have,” I said, smiling.

“It’s not that I don’t have things to say,” he continued. “It’s just that I like… listening more. Noticing. I think I noticed too much that day you left.”

My breath hitched slightly. “Like what?”

He hesitated - just long enough to make me hold my breath.

“Like how you turned back one last time when you sat in the car,” he said finally. “As if you didn’t want to go yet.”

I froze, smiling helplessly. “You noticed that?”

“Main notice to sab karta hoon,” he said quietly. “Bas bol nahi pata.”

{“I notice everything, I just can't say it.”}

The words stayed with me long after the call ended.

---

Later that night, I sat on the terrace, the air still damp from rain. Maa and Papa were downstairs, talking about wedding dates in that half-serious, half-practical way parents do.

“Three months ka time theek hai,” Papa said. “Ghar bhi ready ho jayega.”

{“Three months is the right time,” the house will also be ready.}

Maa nodded, glancing at me. “Simran ko bhi thoda time mil jayega mentally prepare karne ka.”

{Simran will also get some time to prepare mentally.”}

I smiled faintly. Mentally prepare. As if my heart hadn’t already started moving toward him, one slow heartbeat at a time.

When I went back to my room, I opened my phone and typed:

Goodnight, Sarthak. And I was right - you do notice too much.

His reply came almost instantly.

Only when it’s about you.

And somehow, that one line carried me through the night - soft, quiet, and enough to make me blush even in the dark.

Hi love 💓

Kese ho aap sab..

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