PREETI'S POV

By the time Mr. Agrawal's car stopped outside my house, the clock had almost touched five in the evening. The harsh afternoon sunlight had already softened, spreading warm golden shades across the narrow lane outside our home.

Somewhere nearby, a vegetable vendor kept shouting loudly, children were playing cricket at the corner of the street, and faint temple bells had started echoing in the distance.

But honestly, I noticed none of it properly.

Because since the moment we walked out of that café, my mind had been occupied by only one person.

Shobhit Agarwal.

Even now, inside the silence of the car, I caught myself stealing glances at him unconsciously. One of his hands rested casually over the steering wheel while the other tapped lightly against the gear. His expressions remained calm exactly like before.

No unnecessary flirting. No fake sweetness. No attempts to impress me forcefully.

And somehow… that simplicity itself was affecting me more than it should have.

I quietly adjusted my dupatta over my shoulder before finally gathering enough courage to speak.

“Ghar par mil lijiye sabse ek baar, aap the nahi jab aapki family aayi thi..”
(You may meet my family..You hadn't met them right?)

My voice came out softer than I intended.

He turned slightly toward me before replying calmly,
“Ma keh rahi thi, kuch din mein aane hai, sabke sath hi aata hun..”
(Ma was saying we'll soon come.. I'll meet then.)

I nodded lightly.
“Jesa aap chahein..”
(As you wish.)

I tried sounding normal while opening the car door, but the moment I stepped outside, my feet slowed near the gate.

For some reason… I didn't feel like leaving yet.

The entire day, I had continuously tried judging him logically. Whether he was suitable for me or not. Whether I could actually imagine spending my life with someone like him or not.

But every single time I tried thinking seriously, my mind remembered completely different things instead.

The way he quietly listened whenever I spoke.
The way he never mocked my old-fashioned thoughts.
The way he waited outside school without making things awkward for me.
The way he tried Chai for the first time, for me..
And strangest of all, the way I had felt safe around him.

Safe.

That word alone disturbed me the most.
I stopped near the gate and slowly turned back toward the car again.

He was still looking at me.
And suddenly, for absolutely no reason, my heartbeat quickened.

“Acha suniye.. vo maine btaya tha na aapko… mai ek classical dancer hun.. kal ek performance hai meri… aap aa payenge?”
(I have told you I'm a classical dancer as well... I'm performing Tommorow.. Would you like to come?)

The moment I asked that, I mentally scolded myself.

Why was I inviting him?
Why did his presence suddenly matter to me?

He stayed quiet for a brief second, almost like he was genuinely considering it seriously, before replying,

“Mai nikalta hun time..”
(I'll try..)

And stupidly enough, that answer made something warm spread quietly inside my chest.

A small smile appeared on my lips before I could stop it.
Then almost impulsively, I added softly,

“Shayad… kal tak mera jawab taiyaar ho..”
(May be..I find my answer by tomorrow..)

The moment those words left my mouth, even I froze internally.
Because that wasn't supposed to come out.

I myself hadn't fully understood what answer I wanted to give yet.

Still… somewhere deep inside, the strict no I had held onto till yesterday had already started weakening.

He kept looking at me silently for a few moments.

His face remained composed, but there was something softer in his eyes now.

“Mai jarur aaunga..”
(I'll surely come.)

That affected me much more than it should have.
I immediately turned away before he noticed the smile growing on my face and quickly walked inside the gate.

But the second I entered the house, reality attacked instantly.

Mummy was already standing near the entrance like she had been monitoring the street for the last fifteen minutes.

The moment I stepped inside, she questioned immediately,

“Kaun tha vo.. IPS Agrawal? Milne gayi thi usse? Kaisa laga?”
(Who was he? IPS Agrawal? You went to meet him? What do you think about him?)

I almost closed my eyes in exhaustion.
Of course.

Quietly removing my sandals near the door, I avoided eye contact.

“Mai fresh hoke aa jau..”
(May I go?)

Without waiting for another question, I escaped straight toward my room.
The moment the door shut behind me, I leaned back against it and let out a slow breath.

Silence filled the room.
But my mind remained unbearably noisy.
Fragments of the entire day replayed continuously.

Him standing silently while I panicked and covered his mouth with my hand.
His amused eyes in the corridor.
The way he said my name in the parking lot. Preeti Ma'am..

The café.
The tea.
His calm voice.

And then.. the sincerity with which he listened to my thoughts about love without making me feel foolish even once.

I slowly walked toward the mirror and stared at myself quietly.
What exactly was happening to me?

Till yesterday, I had been completely prepared to refuse this proposal politely after one formal meeting.

Then why was I thinking about him continuously now?
Why did his silence feel comforting instead of awkward?
Why did the thought of him coming tomorrow suddenly make me nervous?

I shook my head lightly as if trying to stop my own thoughts before walking to freshen up.

By the time I came downstairs later, dinner had already been served. Aarav was half asleep in Neha bhabhi's lap while Pankaj bhaiya scrolled through something on his phone. Papa had also returned from work and sat quietly at his usual place.

The moment I sat down, Mummy immediately started again,

“Mrs Agarwal ka phone aaya tha, vo agle hafte aa rahein hain.. unka beta bhi aa gya toh sab sath mein..”
(Mrs. Agarwal called, they are coming next week… if their son also arrives then everyone together...)

I lowered my eyes toward my plate.

Before I could answer anything, Papa suddenly spoke,
“Uski koi jarurat nahi hai..”
(There is no need for that..)

The entire table fell silent.
I looked up slowly.

Papa turned fully toward me before speaking gently,

“Preeti beta, aap usse kal milne gayi thi… aapka mann nahi hai ya pasand nahi aaya toh hum mana kar dete hain..”
(Preeti beta, you went to meet him yesterday… if your heart isn’t in it or you didn’t like him, then we will refuse..)

For a moment, I simply stared at him.
And suddenly guilt settled heavily inside my chest.
My family wasn't pressuring me. Not even once.

Papa was ready to refuse an IPS officer's proposal immediately if I felt uncomfortable.

Just because my happiness mattered more.
I quietly placed the roti back onto my plate.
My fingers tightened slightly beneath the table.

Because the truth was,
I didn't dislike Shobhit.

Not even close.
In fact, that itself had become the problem.

“Papa… mai aaj bhi unse mili.. vo insaan bure nahi hai..”
(Papa… I met him today as well.. he is not a bad person..)

The words left me softly.

But they were honest. Very honest.

And maybe for the first time, I realised that somewhere inside my mind, I had already started defending him naturally.

I slowly looked toward Mummy before continuing,

“Aur mummy… isse pehle mai shaadi ke liye haan kahu… mai unhe thoda aur janna chahungi… mai soch kar batati hun kal tak… aap mana na karein..”
(And Mummy… before I say yes to marriage… I want to know him a little more… I will think and tell you by tomorrow… please don’t refuse..)

There was hesitation in my voice.
But not fear.
Because saying yes to marriage still scared me deeply.

Marriage meant trust. Commitment. Emotional safety.

And after my past, I could never blindly walk into someone's life again.

But Shobhit…
he didn't make me feel unsafe.
And maybe that was exactly why I needed one more day.

Just one more day to understand whether this strange calmness I felt around him…
was slowly turning into acceptance..

.
.
.

The next evening, the entire auditorium buzzed with noise, lights, and restless excitement.

One of Indore's biggest state-level cultural events meant the place was overflowing with people. Participants rushed through backstage corridors in heavy costumes, volunteers ran around carrying files and microphones, judges occupied the front rows, and loud announcements continuously echoed through the massive hall.

But despite all that chaos around me, my mind remained stuck on one thing only.

Would he come?

I stood near the backstage mirror while Ritika adjusted the pleats of my costume carefully.

The deep maroon and golden classical attire felt heavier than usual today. My ghungroos were tightly tied around my ankles, my hair neatly secured into a bun decorated with white flowers, and traditional jewellery rested against my skin. Usually before performances, my mind focused only on dance.

Only on rhythm. Only on expressions. Only on stage.

But today, I kept glancing toward my phone lying nearby.

No message. No call.

I pressed my lips together lightly.

Should I text him? No.
Should I call him once? Absolutely not.

What would he think?
That I was desperately waiting for him?

The thought itself made me internally scold myself.
Still… I couldn't understand why his presence mattered this much suddenly.

Why I was unconsciously waiting for him.

“Preeti, stop moving,” Ritika muttered while fixing my dupatta again. “You feel nervous today..”

“I am not nervous.”

“You've checked your phone seven times in two minutes.”

I immediately looked away.
“Shut up, Ritika.”

She only laughed softly.
Before I could reply again, an organiser entered backstage announcing loudly,

“Miss Preeti Parmar! You're next.”

The moment those words reached me, something inside my chest tightened instantly.

This was it.

I took a deep breath, adjusted my bangles once, and walked toward the stage entrance.
The bright auditorium lights hit my eyes the moment I stepped onto the stage.

Thousands of faces blurred before me.
Rows after rows of audience. Judges. Guests. Participants.

My introduction began echoing through the speakers while I stood in the centre of the stage with folded hands.

But before the performance started, my eyes unconsciously searched the crowd.
And then I found him.

Front row.
Sitting calmly amongst the chief guests.
Looking directly at me.
And smiling.

My heartbeat stumbled for one brief second.
A small smile appeared on my lips unconsciously.

He came.

For some strange reason, that thought settled something restless inside me instantly.
I introduced myself softly before the music finally began.

And the moment the first beat echoed across the auditorium, everything disappeared.
The audience blurred. The noise faded. The world stopped existing.
There was only rhythm. Only expressions. Only devotion flowing through every movement.

My ghungroos echoed sharply against the wooden stage while my hands moved gracefully with years of discipline and practice. Every spin, every expression, every step carried emotion deeper than performance.

Dance had always been the only place where my mind truly became silent.
And for those five minutes, I forgot everything.

Forgot fear. Forgot confusion. Forgot marriage. Forgot Shobhit Agarwal. All I remember was my dance.

Until the performance ended.
The final pose froze.

And then suddenly, the entire auditorium erupted into applause.
Breathing slightly heavily, I bent down into a pranam before walking backstage again.

The second I entered behind the curtains, Ritika immediately hugged me tightly.

But before she could even say anything, the first words leaving my mouth were..

“He was there..”

The moment I said it aloud, even I realised what I had done.

Before asking how I performed… before caring about results… before anything else, I had searched for him.

Ritika pulled back slowly and looked at me knowingly before smiling.

“Like always, you performed too good.”

But I barely heard half of it.
Because somewhere inside me, a strange warmth had already started spreading knowing he actually came.

Not just promised. Actually came.

While other performances continued on stage, I went to change into a simpler outfit. The heavy jewellery came off one by one, but somehow my nervousness still remained exactly the same.

By the time all performances ended, a small break was announced before the award ceremony.

The auditorium had become slightly less crowded now. Some people moved around clicking pictures while participants nervously discussed results amongst themselves.

Ritika had brought snacks for me from outside, but I barely touched anything.

My eyes kept drifting toward the entrance repeatedly.
Waiting.

“Preeti…”

Hearing my name, I turned toward Ritika distractedly.

I hesitated for a second before speaking quietly,

“Should I call him?”

“Whom?”

“Mister Agrawal…”

“No need to.”
A calm masculine voice answered before Ritika could. I turned immediately.

And there he was.
Standing just a few steps away.
My heartbeat reacted instantly.

He walked closer toward me before extending a bouquet of fresh white lilies and roses.

“This…”

I stared at the flowers for a moment before looking back at him.

“I learnt from someone… women like flowers. So I thought maybe I shouldn't come empty-handed.”

That simple awkward honesty almost made me smile properly.

“Thankyou…”

Ritika immediately stepped forward dramatically.

“Good evening sir, you recognised me? I'm Ritika. Preeti's best friend.”

A faint smile appeared on his face.
“Nice meeting you.”

Then his eyes shifted toward me again.
“You performed really well, Miss Parmar.”

The sincerity in his voice felt genuine.
Not formal. Not polite for the sake of it.
Real.

“Thankyou…”

"Vese..I was planning a dinner? Aap chalengi?" He asked me.

Ritika smiled beside me. I looked at her once. She turned her gaze to her phone and said,

"Mummy is calling me.. I'll leave early. Tu..Mister Agrawal ke sath aa jana.. He'll drop you."

I looked at him. He nodded and said,

"Will that work miss Parmar.. I'll drop you after dinner.."

I hesitated before nodding. He smiled.

Before the conversation could continue further, an organiser hurried backstage again announcing that the award ceremony was about to begin.

Shobhit nodded once before walking back toward the front seating area reserved for guests.

And for reasons I couldn't explain— my eyes followed him till he disappeared.
The award ceremony started slowly.

One by one, different participants' names were announced.

My fingers remained tightly intertwined in nervousness while Ritika continuously whispered predictions beside me.

And then suddenly,
“State Level Classical Dance Category winner… Miss Preeti Parmar!”

For one entire second, I froze.

Ritika screamed excitedly beside me before hugging me tightly, but I still couldn't process it properly.

I won.
I actually won.

My heartbeat thundered loudly inside my ears while I walked toward the stage under loud applause.

But then, the next announcement followed.

“And to present the award, we invite IPS Shobhit Agrawal on stage.”

My steps halted for the briefest second.
Then slowly, I looked up.
Wearing a calm smile, he walked toward the centre of the stage.

And suddenly, everything inside me changed.

Chief guest. Of course.

He hadn't come because I invited him.
He was already invited by the organisers.
That meant even if I had never asked him, he still would've been here.

The strange happiness I had been carrying since seeing him in the audience cracked quietly inside me.

How stupid.

I had actually thought he came because of me.

“Congratulations, Miss Parmar.”
His voice pulled me back.

I accepted the trophy from him mechanically while cameras flashed continuously around us.

People clapped. Pictures were clicked.
But the smile on my face no longer felt real.

I didn't even look at him properly before leaving the stage immediately.
The rest of the ceremony ended slowly after that.

People started leaving gradually while conversations and laughter filled the auditorium once again.

I walked outside quietly clutching the trophy tightly against my chest.
But before I could reach the parking area, his voice stopped me.

“Miss Parmar.”

I halted.
Then slowly turned around.
He had followed me outside.

Standing beside me now, he looked directly into my eyes before speaking calmly,
“Toh kya decide kiya hai aapne, Miss Parmar? Kya hai aapka jawab?”
(So what have you decided, Miss Parmar? What is your answer?)

For a moment, I simply looked at him silently.
The bouquet. The performance. The stage. The award. Everything replayed together inside my head.

And suddenly, something hurt more than it should have.

Because somewhere between yesterday and today, I had unknowingly started believing his presence mattered personally.

But maybe for him, this was still just another formal proposal.

Another responsibility.
Another decision.
Just like this marriage will be if I agreed..

I slowly lifted my eyes toward him.

“Aapko mera jawab sunna hai na?”
(You want to hear my answer, right?)

My voice remained calm. Too calm.

“Mera decision aapka bhi final decision hoga na?”
(My decision will be your final decision too, right?)

He kept looking at me silently. He nodded once.

And then finally, I spoke the words that shocked even my own heart.

“Toh yehi hai mera jawab… ki mujhe aapse shaadi nahi karni, Mister Agrawal.”
(Then this is my answer… that I do not want to marry you, Mister Agrawal.)

For the first time since meeting him, I saw his expression change completely.

But before he could say anything, I turned around and walked away.
Leaving him standing there alone..