Wrecked - An After-Divorce Romance✨

Chapter Thirty Three

"Listen to me, no drama. Alright?"

Her dee said as she hugged her and welcomed her inside the hotel. Where the wedding was to be held. It was Viren Jiju's hotel. She hugged Veer Jiju who welcomed her with a warm hug. "I'm glad you're here, kiddo."

"I'm glad you guys made up, jiju." She nodded towards her sister.

"Ah well, she came to me to fight about me calling Dhruv gay and then we just made up...." He winked at her and she understood the double innuendo.

"Come with me," He said leading her to the elevator and as they reached the floor, he wheeled in her suitcase, "This is your room, and across is his. You both should make up too, kiddo."

"Jiju..." She wanted to say that she was trying but she didn't. She didn't know how to make up to him. But she wanted to.

"I know. I know. I'm not one to say anything but loving is so easy but staying in love is not. It's hardwork staying in love."

"But I don't even know if I love him or if I just want things to go back the way they were...."

"That's something you have to figure out on your own, kiddo." He patted her shoulder and turned to leave then turned back, "And tell him I'm sorry, if you see him."

***

After midnight, Khushi had finally mustered the courage to ring the bell to his room. She had put on a sexy negligee then taken it off considering how the fabric at her chest felt deflated. Then she put on her prosthetic bra and slipped the negligee on again. Over that, she put on a thick robe.

What was she expecting? She fanned herself. She wanted him madly. Khushi wanted it to happen. She was tired of the secrets and hiding from him. She wanted to open herself to him.

Khushi knew it was a dangerous game she was playing but she finally mustered courage and rang the bell. He opened the door after a while, he was wearing sweat pants and a sweatshirt.

"Can we talk?"

He looked once over at her with a lazy look and nodded. Letting the door be ajar, he walked inside the room. Khushi walked inside too. She shut the door behind her and stood with her back against the door.

      "Do you need a drink?" He asked opening the glass cabinet.

       "Nope." She squeaked.

    "No point in standing there if you've come her to have the "Are you really gay?" talk."

    He turned around, closing the cabinet, with an angry look on his face which vanished after he looked at her.

      She looked at her shoulder, where his eyes were, her robe had slipped revealing the satin strap of the daring negligee she wore. She adjusted it quickly, but snapped her head towards him, when he gave a mock laugh,

      "Oh you've come to ascertain of my manliness!" He insulted her and now she was angry. She stormed to stand in front of him.

      "That's not why I've come! And I know you're not gay! I know you told jiju you were Bisexual and I have problems with that!"

   Saying that she untied her robe and let it slip into a pool around her legs. His eyes widened as he looked on and she felt so shame.

     "And I've come for two reasons, I to deliver an apology on behalf of jiju–" She stopped as she felt his fingertip tracing a line down along the strap. He was touching the strap and not even her skin, and yet she was on fire.

    "And the other?" He asked, pulling away his finger for a moment, and tracing the air around her bodice.

     "The other?" She asked dazed and confused.
    
     "Fascinating..." He seemed dazed too.

      "What is?"

      "We never played these sort of games....we never needed to.... But, now I wonder why didn't we..."

   She swallowed the lump in her throat and yet she could not speak. She kissed him first, falling over him, when she broke the kiss, she whispered against his lips

     "This. This is what I came for." She made to kiss him again but he moved his head away, Khushi looked at him with a frown.

     "It's a game you started but we'll play by my rules. Hmm?" He said with a hot smile and she nodded.

   He kissed her this time, devouring her entirely. Her legs gave up but he supported her limp form, carrying her to the bed.

      He made a move to remove her negligee but she stopped. "Wait...can we keep this on?"

    "No." He said kissing her again. She shoved him once and he stopped, hovering over her.

     "I've seen your scars before, they don't scare me..." He said.

     She held his face, trying hard not to burst in tears, "It's not like before... It's bad..."

      "Breast cancer...I know."

    Khushi shut her eyes, a year escaping from the corners of her eyes. She felt his lips feather on her eyelids.

    "You show me your scars and I'll show you mine. If I judge yours, you can judge mine." He whispered.

    She felt him move away so she opened her eyes, through the blur of her tears, she saw him sitting on the back of his legs, removing his sweatshirt.

       He then moved her legs up, moving her hem upwards. She pushed her head under her elbow covering her eyes. He must've seen her hysterectomy scars by now, yet he didn't stop, his palms moved over her ribs and he slipped it over her head.

     Khushi had no courage to look in his eyes, so she stared at the lamp by the bedside.

     He lowered to kiss her jaw and the chords on her neck. "Put your arms around me..." He whispered.

    Khushi looked at him then, just a mere inch away. He looked as vulnerable as her. She gripped his arms and then eventually moved to upper back.

    Her eyes widened as she felt uneven skin and ridges. Khushi moved her hands along the length of his back feeling, and finally understanding what he meant.

     When Khushi was done, she raised her hands to the back of his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. He broke the kiss and moved downwards, kissing her mastectomy scars and down her stomach. His tongue dragged downwards and everything was a blur after that.

    ***

          Khushi knew he had laid deliberately on his stomach for her to see the full extent of his back. His head was turned away from her. She traced the uneven ridges on his back as she was curious. "How?" She asked.

      "Hot coffee." He muttered, his voice muffled.

         She wasn't stupid. She didn't belive it was an accident that he had scars from burning hot coffee.

      "Was it Neeta?" She asked even though she knew it must've been her. Who else had loved with him in close proximity all these years.

        He didn't answer and she didn't one. Someday, she vowed that she would get back at Neeta for this. If she didn't go to jail first.

      That was the last thought she remembered before falling asleep.

  ***

          A/N: Short chapter. I know. But examssss 😭. Please vote and comment.

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