TUM, BAS TUM

Chapter 18- The Unexpected Call

It was Tuesday evening, the sun dipping behind Noida apartments, painting the sky orange.

Bhavya was sprawled on her bed, half-studying, half-scrolling her phone, when an unknown number flashed on the screen.

She almost ignored it, but something made her swipe to answer.

"Hello?"

A calm, deep voice came through.

"Bhavya?"

She froze for a second.

"Aap?"

"Hmm," his tone was polite, almost hesitant,
"Number aapke papa se liya tha... socha directly baat kar loon."

Bhavya sat up straighter, heart thudding.
"Baat? Kise baare mai?"

She didn't wait for his answer.

Words started spilling out - not angry, but sharp, challenging.

"Dekho, ek baat clear kar doon mai apko" she said,
"Mujhe shaadi ke baare mein sochna bhi nahi tha. Aur agar kabhi bhi future mein aisa kuch hua na - main puri ghar ki bai nahi banne wali."

Her tone sharpened,
"Main cooking, cleaning, saara kaam... yeh sab karne ke liye nahi baithi hoon. Mujhe apna career, apna kaam sab maintain karna hai."

She stopped, expecting silence.

Expecting him to feel uncomfortable.

Maybe even say, "Oh, then this won't work."

But Randhir didn't flinch.

There was a pause - then his voice, steady and warm.

"Theek hai."

Bhavya blinked, surprised. "Theek hai?"

"Haan," he said simply,
"Jo tumne kaha - sahi hai. Tum apne career par focus karo. Tumhare sapne zaroori hain. Main bhi chahunga ki tum apna kaam karo. Ghar ke kaam baant lenge."

His calmness... his acceptance threw her off balance.

"Main seriously bol rahi hoon, Randhir," she pressed,
"Main subah se shaam kitchen mein khadi hone waali ladki nahi hoon."

Randhir's tone didn't change.

"Main bhi aisa expect nahi karta. Tum jo ho... waise hi raho. Usme hi tum mujhe pasand aayi ho."

For the first time in the call, Bhavya didn't know what to say.

She had expected him to argue.

Or defend his "expectations."

Instead, he agreed so easily - almost like he'd already thought about this.

Bhavya muttered, "Main bas clear karna chahti thi."

Randhir replied softly,
"Clear ho gaya. Aur Bhavya..."

She hesitated, "Haan?"

"Main tumhe badalne nahi aaya hoon."

When the call ended, Bhavya stared at her phone.

Her brothers barged in, teasing.
"Kisse baat kar rahi thi? Itni serious voice thi?"

"Tum dono chup," she snapped, but her face wasn't as angry as before.

In her head, the same words replayed:

'Main tumhe badalne nahi aaya hoon.'

For the first time, the annoyance she always felt around Randhir was mixed with something else.

Something she didn't want to name yet.