LOVING MY BULLY...(ON HOLD)

Chapter 5

Under editing.

Back To Story.

Pragya’s POV

“Baby… that… that… we’re engaged.”

For a moment, I just stared at Purab. Engaged? Did he just say engaged?

“Oh, that’s it ah…” I muttered, shrugging casually—then my brain processed it. “Wait—WHAT!!” I almost jumped, my voice shooting two octaves higher.

“Yes, baby. It’s true. We’re engaged,” he repeated, as if announcing what he had for lunch.

“What!! But how?” I gasped, unable to mask the whirlwind of shock and curiosity bubbling inside me.

“All is fate,” he said with a faintly annoyed expression, like he wasn’t thrilled with this ‘fate’ either.

And then he started explaining, his tone softening, a hint of helplessness in his voice.

“We’ve been neighbors since… forever. Even before we were born, our parents were close—best friends. They decided we’d be engaged the day they became parents. Bulbul and I? We’re like two poles—always clashing over silly things. Once, we had this huge fight… she even beat up my close friend Alia just because Alia was my friend. I was furious and ignored her completely after that. She tried to explain, but I didn’t want to hear her side. And then, when she was just seven, she was sent abroad. Ten years later, she comes back—and our parents, still stuck on their ‘dream engagement,’ arranged it for us. They even made sure we’d end up in this college together.”

He sighed deeply, as though just talking about it drained him. “That’s it, baby. But we… we honestly can’t stand each other. That’s why we kept it a secret here in college.”

I blinked, trying to process this avalanche of information. “I’m sorry, jaan… but why do you keep saying Bulz hates you?”

He shrugged. “Because that’s how it’s always been since childhood.”

I crossed my arms and tilted my head. “Hey, Dumbo… why do you think like that? What if she acts like this because she has feelings for you?”

His eyes widened like I had just suggested he marry an alien. “No, baby! No way. I know she doesn’t love me. At least… not now,” he admitted, his voice dropping with a hint of disappointment.

“How are you so sure?” I asked, squinting at him.

“Because she loves someone else,” he said flatly.

“What?! Who? How do you even know that?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, looking guilty. “I… I felt bad about how I treated her before she left. I thought I should at least apologize, or let her explain. So, I called her. Many times. She didn't answer. I eventually stopped after a week. When dadi said she's returning, I called her again a week before she returned. After ten years, on her seventeenth birthday, But… but…” He paused, the memory clearly bothering him. “But a guy answered the call. He said his name was Vin. When I asked for Bulbul, he refused. Said he was her boyfriend, that they love each other. That’s it, baby. That’s all I know.” His face looked genuinely sad, and I couldn’t help but feel a pinch in my heart for him.

“Do you… love her?” I asked bluntly.

He coughed, as if my question had landed straight in his lungs. “No, baby! No way…” he said, trying to sound casual, but I noticed the faint hesitation.

Silence stretched between us.

Then, gathering courage, I said, “Jaan… can I ask you something?”