When morning came, Anirudh opened his eyes and checked his phone. He rolled his eyes, got up, and went through his morning routine before getting ready for the office.

After breakfast, he left, fully occupied with his upcoming project. The day passed in a blur, and he barely got the time to check his phone.

Evening arrived, and he finally returned home.

🦢

“He didn’t call you?” Kritika asked, crossing her arms as she stood in Sanaya’s room.

Sanaya shook her head, pouting. “I think he’s getting forced.” Kritika scoffed. “Do you really think anyone can force him into something?”

Sanaya sighed. “No, but then why is he acting like this? I don’t want to look like a desperate bride.”

Kritika chuckled. “Are you shy?”

“Not at all!” Sanaya argued quickly, but then hesitated. “It’s just… he might think… he might think I’m dying to talk to him.”

Kritika smirked. “If you’re dying to talk to him, then do something about it.” She checked the time. “Anyway, I have an assignment to complete. We’ll talk later.” She waved before leaving the room. Sanaya stay still for a few moments, she was still processing her words.

She shut the door and changed into a comfortable dress. She picked up her phone, a dupatta with a bottle of nail polish and remover.

Their Haveli had a rarely visited rooftop, an ancient bricks staircase leading up to it. She climbed the steps, her heart oddly light.

The last time she had come here, she was upset—when her mother had praised her brother and her aunt had adored her own children, leaving Sanaya unnoticed, longing for a single compliment on a festival day. She had escaped here that day, feeling invisible.

But today was different. Today, she carried excitement in her heart, and happiness shone in her eyes.

She reached the rooftop and stood there for a moment, watching the sunset. From here, she could see the full expanse of their white Haveli—the locked hall they never used, the sprawling backyard, and the elegant front yard.

She sat on an old wooden palang, painted her toenails, and waited for them to dry. Then, after a moment of hesitation, she picked up her phone and dialed his number.

It rang once before he picked up. “Hello?”

Her heart skipped a beat. She hadn’t expected him to answer this quickly.

“Actually… Dadi puch rahi thi ki shaadi ki tareekh is mahine ki tehra, pandrah aur bees ho pad rahi hai. Toh aap apni raaye bata dijiye,” she said, trying to sound formal.

[Actually… Dadi was asking about the wedding date. It's falling on the 13th, 15th, and 20th of this month. So, please share your opinion.]

He stayed silent for a moment before speaking again, his tone calm but laced with amusement.

“Acha ji?” he reassured, as if double-checking.

Before Sanaya could respond, he added smoothly, “Thik hai toh aap apni Dadi ko phone dijiye, main unhi se baat kar lunga is baare mein.”

[Alright, then give the phone to your grandmother. I'll talk to her about this myself.]

Her face immediately stiffened, eyes narrowing as she glared at the name glowing on her phone screen.

“Aap takleef mat uthaiye,” he added, his words ending with a soft chuckle that made her roll her eyes in frustration.

[Don't trouble yourself.]

Sanaya clenched her jaw, trying to maintain her composure. “Yeah, so?... I'm giving it, just hold up,” she pretended to be unaffected.

He only hummed in response, as if enjoying her struggle. She knew exactly what he was doing—teasing her—but she tried to hold back. She really did.

But she couldn’t.

“You know what? I'm not going to agree that I called you to talk to you,” she snapped, her foot beating against the floor as she sat back with an annoyed huff.

"Of course, why should you? I hundred percent agree with you," he said, his voice effortlessly smooth. Sanaya smiled brightly at his unexpected support.

"You should have called first and talked to me," she complained, folding her legs on the wooden palang beneath her.

"Bahut lambi zindagi padi hai, usme kar lenge," he replied with a deep sigh, as if he had leaned back to relax.

[There’s a long life ahead, I’ll do it sometime.]

Sanaya's grip on her phone tightened. He sounded… hot. His voice was deep, calm, and effortless, carrying a teasing laziness that made her stomach flutter. She suppressed a smile, waiting for him to say something else.

"Engagement isi weekend par hai," he informed casually.

Her eyes widened slightly in shock. "What?!"

"Hmm… your brother is doing everything quickly. I even told to take it slow, but never mind," he said, sounding unaffected.

Sanaya blinked, still processing his words. This weekend? That was too soon!

"Aapko pata hai, aapke mummy-papa kitne ache hai?—"

"Nahi, batao," he interrupted calmly.

[Do you know how wonderful your parents are?]

[No, tell me]

"Batati hoon! Mujhe laga tha ki kitna judge karenge mujhko, lekin wo toh impress the mujhse. Even itne saare ashirwad diye! Aur jab me unse unka number maang rahi thi, toh aapka de diya," she chuckled.

[I'll tell you! I thought they would judge me, but they were actually impressed with me. They even gave me so many blessings! And when I was asking for their number, they gave me yours.]

"Mera number kyun diya jab tumne manga hi nahi? Galat baat." he complained, his tone dripping with sarcasm, something Sanaya completely failed to notice.

[Why did you give my number when you didn’t even ask for it? Not right.]

"Ye step ladka uthata hai, ladkiyan nahi," she scoffed, flipping her hair dramatically.

[This step is taken by boys, not girls.]

"Ladkiyan stalking karti hai," he said casually.

[Girls do the stalking.]

"Haan!" she agreed instantly—then froze. A realization hit her like a slap.

Her eyes widened, and she shook her head furiously. "Nahi! Nahi toh!" she denied immediately.

"Chalo, toh mujhe bata do dono ki duties," he said, his tone laced with amusement.

[Alright, then tell me the duties of both.]

"Me bata dungi," she shrugged her shoulders confidently.

[I'll tell you.]

"Haan, toh batao," he mirrored her action.

[Yeah, then tell me]

She cleared her throat. "Ladke ko first call karni chahiye kyunki ladkiyan sharmati hai—"

[The guy should make the first call because girls tend to be shy.]

"Lekin tum toh nahi sharmati," he pointed out.

[But you don't get shy]

Her brows furrowed, and she huffed. "Bich me baat mat katiye!" she snapped.

[Don't cutt off my words]

He chuckled, his voice deep. "Okay, Madam," he said obediently.

"First action ladke ko hi lena chahiye," she declared confidently. "Chahe wo koi gift dene ka ho, baat karne ka ho, propose karne ka ya touch karne ka bhi."

[The first move should be made by the guy.]

"Acha? Kyun ki ladkiyan sharmati hai?" he asked, his tone teasing. "Aur ladkiyon ko kya karna chahiye?"

[Oh really? Because girls are shy?] [And what should girls do?]

"Kalesh," she laughed.

He chuckled. "Okay, ladkiyon ko kalesh karna chahiye, naraz hona chahiye taki ladke manaye, hai na?" he taunted, his voice playful.

[Okay, so girls should create drama and get upset so that the guys can pacify them, right?]

Before Sanaya could retort, a worker approached. "Aapko Dadi bula rahi hai," she informed politely.

[Grandmother is calling you]

Sanaya sighed. "Hmm, thik hai, me aa rahi hoon," she responded before glancing at her phone.

[Hmm, alright, I'm coming.]

She hesitated for a second before saying, "Aapko rakhna hai ya me rakhun?"

[Do you want to hang up, or should I?]

He smirked, knowing she didn't want to end the call. "Sabse pehle bhi ladke hi rakhte honge" he taunted. Her jaw dropped.

[Guys must be the ones to hang up first as well.]

"Waise ye ladka-ladki aur inki duties kuch nahi hoti. Jo jaisa feel karta hai, waise effort karta hai," he spoke calmly.

[By the way, there's no such thing as 'boy duties' or 'girl duties.' People put in effort based on how they feel.]

Sanaya stayed silent, caught off guard by the sudden shift in their conversation. She had been joking, teasing him, but he had taken it somewhere deeper. Had she offended him?

"Zindagi mein bohot saari cheezein hoti hain jo shuru mein nahi aati, par baad mein aati hain," he continued, his voice steady yet reflective. "Jahan kitne sacrifices karne padte hain, kitni baar rona padta hai, kitni baar rulana padta hai."

[There are many things in life that don’t make sense in the beginning but become clear later.]

[Where you have to make so many sacrifices, cry countless times, and sometimes even make others cry.]

She clutched the edge of her dupatta, her playful mood suddenly replaced by something else, something she couldn’t quite name.

"Jaise tumhe baat karni thi toh tumne ek bahana banaya… jaise mujhe milna hoga toh main apne client ka bahana bana ke travel karunga… jaise tum public survey kar rahi thi waise hi main kisi bagiche mein gir jaunga aur mere upar bohot saare phool gir jayenge, jo main baad mein tumhe de dunga," his tone turned lighter at the end, teasing again.

[Just like you made an excuse to talk, if I ever want to meet you, I'll use my client as an excuse to travel… Just like you were doing a public survey, I'll somehow fall into a garden, and a bunch of flowers will fall on me, which I'll later give to you.]

Sanaya bit her lip, trying to hold back her smile.

"It’s all about efforts." He paused. "And making efforts has no gender."

Her heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t just about their conversation anymore. It was about something bigger, something she hadn't expected from him.

“Chaliye toh aap apni dadi ke saath shaadi ki date fix kare aur main bhi kuch office ka pending work karta hoon,” he said, preparing to end the call.

[Alright, then you fix the wedding date with your Dadi, and I'll get started on some pending office work.]

“Haan, bye,” she replied. “Hm.”

She hung up the call and ran downstairs, muttering to herself, "Main kyun rou? Roye mere dushman! Sacrifice? Ye koi TV serial chal raha hai kya?" She scoffed, shaking her head.

[Why should I cry? Let my enemies cry! Sacrifice? What is this, a TV serial?]

She reached the last step and adjusted her dupatta, her thoughts racing. "Aur ab manpasandida mard bhi hoga!" A victorious smile crept onto her lips.

[Now, I'll have my favorite man too!]

Sanaya didn't believe in unnecessary sacrifices, And now, even fate was on her side.

🦢

Anirudh put the phone on the table and leaned back against his chair, exhaling sharply.

“Ugh… you act so cringe around her. Pehli hi baat mein sacrifice, rona, and all,” he muttered, rubbing his temple in frustration.

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "But she's too delusional. I mean, life isn’t just about giving and receiving gifts or sweet talk. There’s so much more to it. But why did I bring it up now? It could’ve waited."

Regret settled deep in his chest. He closed his eyes and buried his face in his palms, shaking his head at himself.

To be continued....