Playing With Fire

Chapter 47 - Past Wounds

His palms were sweaty. Beads of perspiration lined his brow. Nausea churned in his gut as Shahru sat in his truck in front of the modest, single-story home where Juhi lived. It hadn't been hard to find her since she still lived in the same town they'd lived in together. She owned her own little bookstore, something she'd always dreamed about when they were together. It had been easy to find because she used her last name in the title. He didn't know anything about her personal life, whether she was married or not, but he hoped she was. He hoped like hell she'd found a man who treated her much better than he had.

It was midmorning. Dark storm clouds hid the sun from view, making the air outside much chillier even than usual. Shahru hoped that wasn't a sign. He came here for one thing: to make things right with Juhi. He was ready to do that, for Juhi, for Angel, and for himself. It was time and he was finally ready. Shahru wanted to live, and he wanted to live with Angel. For her he needed to do this. The only thing that kept him rooted in his truck was Juhi. What if he hurt her by coming here? Opening old wounds for her that had probably healed over by now was the last thing he wanted to do.

It wouldn't be fair to Juhi. After everything, she deserved to go on with her life without the painful reminders of their past. Not only what he did to her, but the memories of his mum. She'd loved her just as much as he had. Since her own mum left her with her asshole father when she was a child, his mum was the only mother she had.

But then, maybe she hadn't fully healed, either. This visit might be good for her as well. That's what he held on to as he pushed the door of his truck open and got out. Shahru took the long, cement walkway in steady, even strides. After his first knock, he waited. When no one answered, he knocked again. Latches clicked and the door pulled open slowly. It was Juhi, just like he remembered her: black hair with honey highlights, light brown eyes, and a dimple you could see even when she didn't smile.

It was obvious she recognized him right off the bat as well. Her wide, happy eyes glossed over as one tear leaked down her face. Shit. The moment was awkward. Jesus, he didn't want to hurt her, but the look in her eyes made him fear he'd done just that. One shaky hand covered her mouth as another tear fell down her face. Without thinking Shahru reached out his hand to comfort her, but she backed out of his reach. "Juhi—I..." Shahru dropped his hand back to his side. "I'm sorry to show up out of the blue like this. I don't want to hurt you, but I wanted see if maybe we could talk for a minute? There are a few things I'd like to tell you."

Finally she found her tongue. "Out of the blue? That's a bit of an understatement don't you think? It's been five years with no word from you, Shahru. God, I was scared you might be dead or something."

The guilt he'd tried to stamp down began to overflow. "Shit, I know, Ju I'm sorry.
Can I come in for a minute ... please? I need to explain. I owe you that and so much more." His old nickname for her automatically fell from his mouth. It felt good to see her. Just an ounce of the weight on his chest started to lift. At one point in his life this woman had been his best friend, his lover, his wife, and it hurt him to know that after all they'd shared, five years later he wasn't sure if the person in front of him was the same one he left behind. Oh, she was probably stronger, but did she still like to watch old black-and white movies? Did she still kill house plants within days? Did you still have to wait at least an hour before you spoke to her in the morning, or you'd get a lash from her smart tongue?

He hadn't realized how much he missed her until he stood outside her house looking at her. The feelings he felt now were so different from the ones he'd felt before. None of the old, excitement, passion, or hope he had felt all those years ago—but friendship, yeah, he felt that. He missed his friend.

Shahru stepped inside the door when she held it open for him, still not speaking. She closed it softly. "My son is napping. I don't want to wake him. I'll grab the monitor.
There''s a sliding glass door off the kitchen. We'll talk out back."

Shahru went in the direction she pointed. Her backyard was small, but homey. He stood under a patio cover. In the middle of the square of grass sat a small children.s swing set and slide. Juhi had a son. That did his heart good. She was happy. It only took a few minutes in her presence to know it. The gentle sliding sound of the door made him turn around to see her setting a baby monitor on the two-person glass table that sat off to the edge of the patio. "How old is he? Your son, I mean."

Juhi sat down. "One and a half."

Shahru wasn't sure he should join her just yet, so he stayed where he stood. "What's his name?"

"Shahru..."

"Are you married?" Shahru needed to know she was happy. He needed to know someone had been able to give her what he couldn't.

"Yes, Shahru, I'm married. His name is Arjun. Where have you been? I've been worried sick about you. All these years and nothing. I was so scared you were dead!"

Her words almost knocked him on his ass. Staying away had hurt her. After the way he left things the last time they saw each other, he'd turned around and hurt her again. "I went to rehab, Ju"

"I know, Shahru, but I doubt you were there for five years. Hell, I didn't know if you stayed. You could have left and been on the streets for all I knew. I know things ended badly for us, Shahru, but I deserved to know you were okay."

God, he'd been such an ass by leaving her wondering all these years. One more mark
on his screw-up list where the women in his life were concerned. "Things were hard for me for a while there. Well, until recently they have been. I ... Can I sit?" He motioned to the chair.

"Yes."