Page 5 of Bad At Love

Pooja shot to her feet, her moments jerky as she collected her coat and purse. “Chaaru’s in a delicate situation and you go running. Of course.”

His heart pounded and his palms felt clammy at her confrontational tone. “What…what do you mean by that?”

Snapping her purse open, she left a huge tip on top of the bill. She wouldn’t meet his eyes, though. “Nothing.”

He reached for her arm gently. “Please…don’t walk away angry. Chaaru would never interrupt us if it wasn’t an emergency. I mean, she was the one who convinced me to give this a…” He stopped, knowing he’d once again stepped into a dating landmine.

Shaking her head, Pooja sighed. “Sorry for snapping at you. I guess I don’t like to be cock-blocked.” She laughed, as if to take the bite out of her words.

“I could come to your apartment after I…retrieve Chaaru. If you’re still interested, that is. Or we could do this some other time. I’m enjoying getting to know you and-”

“No. The moment’s gone.”

“I’m sorry, Pooja.”

“No, don’t be. You can’t help being in love with her, can you?”

Even though she said the words softly, DP felt as if she’d slapped him. It shouldn’t be a shock to hear it in such bare words, but it was.

He collected his wallet and his phone, checked his coat for his car keys, all the while searching for something to say without further offending her. “It doesn’t mean-”

“You know what the most painful thing is?” Pooja said, cutting him off. “Chaaru was absolutely right. You’re one of the best guys I’ve ever met and you’re…perfect for me. But you’re taken, aren’t you?”

“I’m not,” DP said, swallowing past the lump in his throat. “She’s not interested in me. If you could just put aside that she interrupted us, you’ll see that I’m giving this my all. I like you very much, Pooja. And I don’t give a damn if it’s not the in thing to say it.”

She smiled then, and it was full of both regret and gratitude. “Do other women you date a favor, DP. Either get over her or stop letting her set you up. It’s cruel to raise a woman’s hope like this.”

“Even if there’s no chance of Chaaru and me ever going there?” he asked, genuinely conflicted.

After her disastrous, near-abusive, decade long marriage to one of his ex-best friends, Chaaru loathed the idea of love and commitment from the very depths of her soul. Having witnessed some aspects of the abusive control her ex had wielded, DP couldn’t even blame her.

And he, at forty, wanted all those sticky things she didn’t.

Chaaru chased excitement with pretty fuck-bois who didn’t even deliver while he wanted to settle down to domestic bliss. With her.

Every day, every month, every year that went by, he wondered if his wishes would change. If he could just have an affair with her and walk away without heartache. If he could have a little of her and survive the having.

But that moment never came and he’d gotten used to being in love with her. Like his slightly curly hair, his fondness for Vietnamese food, his high aptitude for numbers, loving Chaaru was just a fact of life.

“Would you be able to play third wheel if Chaaru falls in love with some man tomorrow?” Pooja demanded, not unkindly. “Would you be able to stay in her life then?”

The idea made his stomach twist into such painful knots that he couldn’t even form words around it. Sighing, she kissed his cheek and walked away. His gut churned.

How long was he going to cling to the margins of Chaaru’s life when he wanted so much more?

3

The drive took DP forty minutes. Then he had to find parking that didn’t cost a kidney. Halfway through the ten-minute walk to the high-rise, he went back to the car for an umbrella as the mist turned to a downpour.

The chrome and glass exterior of the building gleamed with rain thumping against it. Clearly, class and wealth didn’t guarantee basic common sense. Getting off on the forty-fifth floor, he found the apartment number and plugged in the entry code.

“Chaaru?” he called out softly, not wanting to spook her.

“In here,” came her reply.

DP walked through a couple of corridors. The place was a damned maze.

“Marco,” she shouted, loud enough for him to turn around.

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