Simran’s POV

I never thought a name flashing on my phone could make my heart do this strange thing - skip a beat and then flutter like it was confused about what to do next.

But now, every time I saw Sarthak Calling, it did exactly that.

It had only been a week since our engagement, and yet, somehow, his voice had already become… familiar. Something in between, Something quieter, deeper that I am not able to explain in words.

---

“Simran beta, shaadi ki baat fix ho gayi hai,” Papa said that morning, sitting with Maa in the living room. “Within three months, they want to keep it simple but elegant.”

{"Simran beta, the marriage is fixed,"}

Three months.

I nodded, pretending to stay calm, but inside, I could hear my pulse loud and clear. Three months - that wasn’t much time.

When Papa continued talking about venues, guest lists, and designers, I found my mind drifting elsewhere, back to his voice on the phone, low and steady, when he’d said, ‘It’s supposed to feel real. That’s how you know it’s right.’

I didn’t reply that night, just smiled to myself in the dark, phone against my chest, feeling… something.

---

The next evening, as I sat on the terrace with my tea, my phone buzzed again.

Sarthak: Long day?

Me: Not really. Just tired of lehenga discussions

Sarthak: Already? Itni jaldi thak gayi?

{Already? Tired so soon?}

Me: Try choosing between red and maroon with five people giving opinions. Then talk.

Sarthak: Fair point. I’ll stay out of that war.

Me: Good. Smart decision, Mr. Devgan

Sarthak: Noted, Mrs. Almost Devgan.

I laughed, out loud this time. The kind that comes without warning and stays a little longer than it should.

Maybe it was because of the way he texted, enough to make me smile without feeling forced.

---

Later that week, he called again.

We talked about everything and nothing - about the project he was handling, about how my cousin got her mehndi artist from Delhi, about the weather in Karnal and how unpredictable it has become.

But what I liked most was how he listened.

He doesn’t interrupt, he just listens. And somehow, I found myself talking more.

At one point, when I said, “Kabhi kabhi lagta hai sab bahut fast ho raha hai,” he was quiet for a second before replying,

“Fast nahi… bas naturally. Jahan dono log taiyaar hote hain, wahan pace apne aap set ho jaata hai.”

{“Sometimes it feels like everything is happening too fast.”}

{“Not fast... just naturally. When both people are ready, the pace is set automatically.“}

I didn’t know what to say to that.

So, I stayed quiet too. But in that silence, something warm settled inside me like trust.

---

The next few days blurred into fittings, guest lists, and endless relatives. Everyone had something to say, some suggestion, some comment.

But between all that noise, his messages felt like small pauses I could breathe in.

Sarthak: Site visit kal Jodhpur se Haryana shift karni hai. Socha mil lein tab.

{I have to shift the site visit from Jodhpur to Haryana tomorrow. I thought we'd meet then.}

My fingers hovered over the keyboard for a second.

Me: Kal? Yani date?

{Tomorrow? Does that mean a date?}

Sarthak: Agar tum free ho toh, haan.

{If you are free, then yes.}

Me: Deal. But coffee pe first treat tumhari hogi.

{Deal. But you'll have the first treat at the coffee.}

Sarthak: Done. Coffee meri, smile tumhari.

{Both. My coffee, your smile.}

I rolled my eyes at that, but my heart… it didn’t roll its eyes.

---

At night, Maa came into my room while I was scrolling through my messages.

“Kisse chat kar rahi ho?” she asked, but her tone already had a smile in it.

{“Who are you chatting with?”}

“Bas, Sarthak se,” I said, not even trying to hide it.

{“Just talking to Sarthak only,”}

Maa chuckled softly. “Accha ladka hai. Tumhare liye bilkul sahi hai.”

{"He's a good boy. Perfect for you."}

I looked up. “Aapko kaise pata?”

{How do you know?}

“Jo ladka apni baaton mein izzat rakhta hai, woh dil mein bhi rakhta hai, beta.”

{“A boy who keeps respect in his words, keeps it in his heart too, beta.”}

I didn’t reply. Just smiled faintly and went back to my phone rereading the last message he sent.

---

Later, as I finally layed in bed, I couldn’t sleep.

I kept thinking about meeting him again tomorrow.

What should I wear? How would it feel to see him again. This time not as a stranger, not as someone I was simply supposed to marry, but someone I was slowly beginning to want to marry?

It was strange, this feeling.The kind that creeps in softly and stays.

As I closed my eyes, I realized something - maybe love doesn’t always arrive with fireworks or violins. Sometimes, it just happens quietly, between goodnight texts and unspoken smiles.

Hi love ❤️

I am back with a brand new chapter, and you will get 2-3 more updates today as I wasn't able to upload earlier.

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