Page 13 of Glass Jawed

Aarohi

After the first time Lucian and I slept together, things escalated fast.

I don’t mean emotionally unstable fast. I mean, I blinked, and we were... us . He was picking me up from classes. Inviting me over for dinners—to the point that I now had a key to his place.

The man was helping me tweak my resume while his hand wandered to my thigh under the table like he couldn’t help himself. We were glued together in the most unexpected, domestic, scary ways.

And I’d never felt so safe and terrified at the same time.

He’d become incredibly attentive since our first time sleeping together. Thoughtful in ways that blindsided me—like remembering how I take my coffee even when I changed it up randomly one day, or buying a weighted blanket because I once told him I had trouble sleeping before assignment submissions.

Two months have passed since that night. Two impossibly soft, beautiful months. The kind that feel borrowed from someone else’s life.

In my head—and to Ruth, my therapist—I’ve taken to calling the night with Tim as the dreaded night, and the one with Lucian, as the magical night. It was incredibly corny but I couldn’t help it. In some ways, his sweet words had overridden the contempt from the dreaded night.

But Lucian wasn’t just a lover now. He was... woven into my life.

Sometimes, I’d catch him staring into space—eyes slightly distant, jaw ticking—but the moment I reached for him, he’d blink it away like it never happened.

I never asked. Maybe I should.

But I didn’t want to prod. I didn’t want to poke at what I assumed was a bruise that might not have fully healed yet.

He never talked about Tim. Neither did he let it shadow over our moments. But those distant, unfocused gazes of his—they lingered.

One night, a few weeks ago, I was curled up on his couch wearing his hoodie, scrolling aimlessly while he hosted a little get-together. Nothing fancy. Just five of his friends, including Liam, his COO.

Surprisingly, his friends were incredible. Successful in their own right and downright humble. One of them—Karina—even said she’d refer me internally for a job her company had just posted. Her fiancé, Isaac, shared that he was hiring a Project Manager for the Fintech firm he was leading ops for.

I was a flustered mess when they started asking me about my previous experience. But Lucian simply smiled affectionately and nodded in encouragement.

Later, Liam had sat beside me while Lucian was off somewhere mingling.

He gave me a casual side-glance. “So... we meet again, Ms. Barista. You know... he won’t shut up about you.”

I laughed, mildly embarrassed. “I hope so. Also I won’t be a barista soon. At least, I hope not after this job hunt is over.”

“Any company would be lucky to have you.” He smiled and tapped his bottle against mine. “You know I’m technically your Cupid, right? I was the one who convinced—eh... forced —Lucian to take the guest lecture gig at your uni.”

That gave me pause. It made me realize that his friends probably didn’t know the full story. About Tim. About that night. About me.

And maybe it was better that way.

Maybe, for once, I could just be the girlfriend. Not the woman who tore apart a relationship. Not the homewrecker.

Even though a tiny sliver of guilt still lived somewhere under my ribs... it didn’t claw as hard anymore. Therapy was helping. Time was softening the jagged edges.

Two days ago, Kashvi surprised me with a visit from Vancouver. I nearly tackled her at the airport.

We spent the entire first day watching trash TV and catching up, but by the second, she was eyeing me over her morning chai like she was about to stage an intervention.

“So,” she said, “tell me everything about your Lucian Vale. And don’t skip on anything.”

My Lucian Vale? God!

I rolled my eyes but relented.

I told her about his sleepy good morning texts, and how he helps me prep for interviews.

How he learned to make kadhai paneer just to impress my mom when she FaceTimed me unexpectedly during dinner.

How his reaction to my body is now light-years apart from that dreaded night.

How he looks at me like I’m not just enough—but more than enough.

She waited for me to finish, then folded her arms. “Okay. That’s great. But... have you talked about that night?”

I froze.

“Why do I need to?”

“You know why. Have you told him how it made you feel? Have you told him what it did to you? Did you get your closure?”

“I—” I stared down into my mug. “Therapy’s helping. That’s my closure.”

“That’s not what I asked. Have you?”

I swallowed. “No, I haven’t. And I don’t think I need to.”

“Rohi—”

“He doesn’t want to talk about it, okay?” I cut in. “I’ve tried. His whole body goes stiff when I mention it. And honestly? I get it. That night wasn’t just traumatic for me. It was horrible for him too.”

She didn’t say anything for a long while.

Finally, she nodded. “Okay. I trust your judgement. Just... bring it up at some point, though, okay? Him avoiding it is like a red flag.”

I didn’t respond. Because I wasn’t sure I had a logical rebuttal.

??????

The café is buzzing, as usual, a low hum of conversations and espresso machines underscoring the afternoon rush. I’m tucked behind the counter, apron on, pulling a double shot.

Kashvi’s sitting in the far corner—her headphones half-on, half-off, her laptop open, and about three different tabs running. She couldn’t take more than two days off from her job in Vancouver, so she’s working remotely today. Occasionally mouthing profanities at Slack.

Then the door opens, and in walks Lucian—right on cue. That man’s internal clock is synced with my shifts like it’s part of his Google Calendar. It probably is. He’s almost anal about his schedule.

But the real surprise is the guy next to him.

Liam.

I grin immediately. Liam and I have met several times at this point. I’d even call him... a friend.

Lucian had mentioned they’d be grabbing coffee together, but I didn’t think they’d end up here this early.

I quickly wave at my shift supervisor and murmur, “Taking five!” as I round the counter.

“There’s my barista girl!” Liam calls out with open arms.

Before I can even react, Lucian smacks his arm with the back of his hand.

“My girl,” he growls low.

I laugh, rising on my tiptoes to press a quick kiss to Lucian’s lips. He doesn’t let me go right away—gripping my waist, deepening it just a few seconds longer than necessary—before pulling back with that stupidly content, cocky smile of his.

“There’s the birthday boy,” I say as I throw my arms around Liam in a friendly hug. “How’s thirty-four treating you?”

“Painfully,” Liam groans. “My back made a weird sound when I sneezed this morning.”

Kashvi strolls over then, eyes flicking between the three of us.

Liam freezes the moment he sees her.

“ Jesus , Aarohi! Is that your Vancouver friend?” Liam whispers, straightening his blazer. His entire demeanor does a weird shift—like someone just hit the dimmer switch on his sarcasm and turned it to charm .

“Hi. Liam Winters. Birthday boy. I’ve heard great things about you, Kash.” He’s eyeing her up and down—a flirty gleam in his gaze.

Poor guy.

“Kash vi Mehra,” she corrects him and raises a brow, arms folded. “And not interested in men younger than me.”

There’s a second of stunned silence. Then Liam chokes. “Excuse me?”

Lucian immediately snorts. I’m biting my lip, trying not to laugh. Liam does look like he’s super young. Is that why he wears suits all the time?

Kash deadpans, sipping her iced latte. “I assume you are, like, what—twenty-four. Maybe twenty-five? That beard is doing a lot of the heavy lifting.”

Liam sputters. “I’m thirty -four. Just turned. Literally. Today.”

“Cool. Happy birthday.” Kash shrugs, totally unbothered. Then she turns to Lucian, looking at him like she’s got her target locked in. “The infamous Lucian Vale.”

Shit. Here we go.

She holds out her hand to him and Lucian looks about ready to run. And I’m thoroughly enjoying this.

He clears his throat and clasps her outstretched hand in his. “Uh... Kashvi . Nice to meet you. I’ve heard admirable things.”

She narrows her eyes at him. “Can’t say the same. But cook me that kadhai paneer that Rohi raves about—and maybe I’ll call off my hitman.”

I choke on my damn saliva and admonish her while barely containing my laugh. “Kash!”

Lucian looks at me briefly—an amused twitch on his lips. Then back to her. “Consider it done.”

Liam leans into my ear and mutters a little too loudly, “Your friend is terrifying. I like her.”

I grin at him and suddenly Lucian’s grip on my waist has tightened.

“I’m standing right here,” Kash snaps at Liam.

Liam, undeterred, leans slightly closer to Kash. “I’m having a birthday get-together tonight. Just a few friends. Will you come, Kashvi?”

That’s not an invitation. It sounds more like a plea.

Kash blinks and then glances at me, half-amused, half-uncertain. “You’re definitely going then?”

I nod. “Yep. Lucian and I wouldn’t miss it.”

Lucian kisses my temple and steals my oat latte. “ You wouldn’t miss it,” he corrects. “I’m just in it for the beer.”

Liam still hasn’t looked away from Kash. “So? Don’t break my heart—say you’ll come.”

She gives him a slow once-over, unimpressed. “Mm. I’ll think about it. But I’ll need to see your driver’s license first. Just to make sure you’re not fresh out of high school... or halfway to the grave.”

With that, she turns and strolls back to her laptop like she didn’t just verbally body-slam a grown man.

“Oof,” I murmur under my breath.

“She’s... something,” Lucian whispers, his lips brushing my ear.

“She’s brutal,” Liam mutters, but he’s grinning like he just got handed her phone number.

Soon they both grab their coffee orders—Lucian stealing one lingering kiss, before disappearing through the doors.

The café settles again.

Kash stretches in her chair, packs her laptop with a sigh, and walks over to me. “Alright. I’m done waging war with Java. I’m going to your apartment.”

“You’re not even going to pretend to help me close up?” I tease, drying my hands.

“Baby, I’m a guest. Guests don’t mop.”

I squint at her. “You’re lucky I like you.”

She sighs and whips out her phone—tapping the screen. “You’ll love me when I’ve napped and grabbed pre-booze before we head to the rave.”

“It’s a birthday party, not a rave,” I say, grinning.

Her face twists in mock disgust. “Who throws a birthday party at thirty-four? I thought he was a kid.”

“You’re not fooling me, woman,” I smirk. “So... Liam, huh?”

She shrugs trying to look busy on her phone. “Maybe he’s my Toronto fuck.”

I roll my eyes, and wave her off as she exits the café with a lazy wave of her hand.

I check the time—just shy of 3 pm. A slow lull settles in. I wipe down the counter, humming under my breath, heart still warm from Lucian’s earlier kiss.

It’s almost closing time when the door opens again.

I glance up, smile half-formed, and freeze.

He’s standing just inside the entrance. Same tousled hair, same clean-cut jaw. A little leaner than I remember. But it’s him.

His eyes are locked on mine.

Unblinking.

Unmoving.

But I know from his expression that this isn’t a coincidence. That he didn’t just accidentally stroll into a random café.

There’s no shock on his face. And suddenly, I feel cold all over.

What the fuck is Tim doing here?