His Permanent Scar

Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Contrary to her family and friends’ beliefs, Ruhi Patel believed in love. Love was a scientific, provable fact. Beyond the data, she’d experienced it happen many times with her own five senses.

She’d seen it in her father’s glances at her mother. She’d smelled it in the food her brother, Kabir, cooked for his wife, tasted it in the curries her sister-in-law made for her extended family. Ruhi had heard it in the songs her sister, Anika, sang for her husband. But Ruhi had never felt it herself.

And that was fine. Ruhi wasn’t looking for love. Not exactly. She was far too practical and grounded. But she did harbor a hope that, like her parents and siblings who’d all fallen in love at first sight, love would sneak up on her and knock her off her feet.

“Ruhi, we have to talk.”

Those words certainly knocked Ruhi back on her feet. But it was in the wrong direction. It wasn’t what she was expecting to hear from the guy she’d been seeing for the past five months.

Ruhi had been spending most weekends at Dr. Michael Paskiewicz’s place. So, this talk could go either way. Either he wanted to end the relationship or he wanted to move it forward.

They were seated in a small cafe in the trendy district in town. It was a place just outside the free clinic they both worked in; she as a nurse practitioner and he as a doctor. The entire clinic often came to this place before their shift started to get a mug of dark brewed energy, or for lunch to get refueled with a protein-packed sandwich.

It was after work now and Ruhi was having a tuna salad. Admittedly, it wasn’t the best choice while on a date, and her stomach had grumbled a bit at the choice. But she and Michael were past the impress-me stage. The trouble was she didn’t know if they were moving on up from there or taking a detour to a dead end.

Ruhi leaned back in her chair. For the first time in a long time, she considered; What did she want? Did she want to progress or get off this ride with Michael? And if they did progress, how far was she willing to go?

She’d always proclaimed she wouldn’t get married or have a family until her career was well underway. She wasn’t exactly where she wanted to be with her career today. Her soul was satisfied helping the less fortunate at the free clinic, as well as working with wounded veterans alongside her father at the Purple Heart Ranch. Still, there was more she wanted to do.

She’d applied to work with Doctors Without Borders, an organization that provided medical aid where it was most needed and often not accessible. It had always been her dream to travel and offer her services to those who needed it most. Unfortunately, she was still waiting to hear back about her application to the organization. If she got the job, it wouldn’t be conducive to a relationship.

“We’ve been seeing each other for four months now …” Michael was saying.

It was actually five. But who could expect the guy in the relationship to keep track? Michael probably wasn’t counting their first few weeks of dating. Or all the times when they’d gone out in a group but stuck close to one another.

“… and I think you feel it too.”

It? Did she feel it? She supposed she felt something for him. And apparently, he felt something too.

He didn’t reach across the table for her hands. He retracted both of his hands below the table. Ruhi looked down and saw a bulge in his pocket.

This was it. He was going to do it. He was going to propose … something. That they move in together? That they join their assets? That they get engaged?

Her gaze stuck to the bulge. Was it big enough to be a ring? Or maybe a spare key? No, it was too fat to be a key. It had to be a ring.

Oh, God. It was happening. She was getting proposed to. But did she want to be proposed to? Did she love him? Did love truly matter in these days?

She and Michael were entirely compatible. Even though everyone in her family had fallen in love at first sight, they’d all had their unions arranged based on compatibility. Her parents were matched based on their personalities and goals. Kabir and his wife were both in the food industry and loved classic literature. Anika was a singer and her husband wrote film scores.

Ruhi and Michael were both in the same field. They were both health conscious and environmentally responsible. He had a compost bin and a rain barrel in the back of his townhouse, which was seriously sexy. And he drove a Prius.

Dr. Michael Paskiewicz was perfect for her in every way. She would be a fool not to say yes to his proposal.

Michael tilted his gaze up to hers, and suddenly, she felt it. That it. The butterflies in her stomach. But they felt a bit more like bees buzzing around and stinging her.

She felt some of the fish bubble up in her throat as though it wanted to break free. Oh, no! Was she about to barf?

She couldn’t. Not now. She had to hold it in. This would not make for a great story to tell their children about how daddy proposed to mommy.

“Yeah, I can see you feel it too,” said Michael. “There’s just not that spark between us.”

Ruhi blinked. She opened her mouth … and burped.

Michael reared back. He wrinkled his nose. She’d had extra onions on her sandwich, so not only did he get a whiff of the sea, he got the pungent smell of an earthy weed.

Ruhi’s hands shot to her mouth, and she caught a whiff herself. But the embarrassment of her bad breath paled in comparison to the embarrassment of her assumption. “You’re breaking up with me?”

“Breaking up?” Michael’s nose relaxed and his brows pinched. “We weren’t exactly a couple. Were we? I just thought we were hanging out. Being casual. Isn’t that what you said you wanted?”

It had been what she said. Five months ago. But by the third month, she’d assumed they were a couple. Who wouldn’t have?

“I feel that we’re better off as just friends,” he said.

Translation: I don’t want to commit to you but I’d still like to come over in the middle of the night on a weekday if that’s cool.

“I’m going to take some time and work on myself,” he said.

Translation: I’m going to go off and be selfish and self-centered and everyone else can take a hike because I won’t notice.

“It’s not you, it’s me.”

Translation: It was totally her, and he didn’t want to see her anymore.

“We’re on different paths,” he said.

Translation: You’re a slacker, and I’m about to climb a rung up the ladder of success and leave you in the basement.

Michael reached in his pocket and pulled out the thick bulge. It wasn’t a key. It wasn’t a ring. It was an envelope. He pulled out a piece of paper.

“See? I got accepted to Doctors Without Borders.”

Ruhi’s stomach twisted the knot it had tied itself into in the other direction. “I didn’t know you applied.”

“I got interested when you talked about it. I applied on a whim, and I got in. I leave in a week.”

“Wow. That’s just …”

Not only was he dumping her after their casual, five-month-long, exclusive relationship. Wait? Had he been monogamous?

She couldn’t ask now. She wouldn’t get a key or a ring, and he was stealing her dream job. Her stomach untwisted, and she lurched again. Her hand covered her mouth in time, and she tasted bile. She had to get out of there.

“We’ll still be friends, right?” said Michael.

That was the last straw. There was a votive candle on the table between them. Ruhi picked up her water glass and tossed it in his face. It doused the candle and the rest of the tuna sandwich. But mostly it soaked Michael’s face and his shirt.

“Oh, my bad,” she said standing up. “Thought I saw a spark.”

And with that, she marched out of the restaurant without looking back. She made it all the way to the alley before bending over and giving up her meal to a gutter.