Page 31 of Glass Jawed

Aarohi

“And we’re sure he’s still here?” Ishi asks, arms crossed.

Kash glances at her phone, raises a finger. “Confirmed. Lucifer has not left the country.”

I deadpan. “And how exactly do you know that?”

She slides her phone back into her pocket like a spy tucking away classified intel, then pops open her suitcase. She just got here and already, I can breathe easier.

“It’s not who you think,” she mutters, rummaging through her clothes. “Aha!”

She pulls out something black and suspiciously shiny. Ishika recoils like she’s just seen a crime scene. “What in the name of tacky is that ?”

I squint. “Wait—is that your lucky camisole?”

Kash beams like a proud mother. “This baby has gotten me laid three times. In. A. Row.”

I glance at Ishika. “Remind me again why we’re going out? Shouldn’t you be, I don’t know, getting a massage, sipping cock ...tails, preparing for your shaadi , or—I don’t know—bikini waxing?” (Shaadi is Hindi for wedding.)

Ishi groans. “It’s the last night before we go to the farmhouse. I want to bask in Delhi pollution and have Vicky go all macho at the leery men, one more time.”

Kash snorts. “Ma’am, we’re going to a farmhouse for like two weeks. Not a prison . Also, isn’t your Vicky whisking you off to Milan right after?”

“We dropped Italy like a month ago. It’s Greece now,” Ishi says, exasperated. “Where have you been ?”

“You did?” I blink.

Ishi glares. “ You too , Rohi? Wow. It’s like you two don’t even love me anymore.”

Kash throws a hand over her heart. “Sorry, we were too busy getting our souls crushed by men with too much hair gel and too little shame.”

I groan while Ishika gasps, scandalized. “ Both of you?!”

Kash nods solemnly. “Yup.”

“By a pair of best friends, no less,” I add.

Ishi clutches her hypothetical pearls. “Wait. You guys got tag-teamed by heartbreak ?”

Kash and I look at each other.

“Damn,” she says at the same time as I say, “Yeah.”

“Imagine that,” I mutter.

“By the way,” I say to Kash with an evil little grin, “Karina calls them Lamebrains . It’s the L in their names.”

“Who’s Karina?” she mumbles, rifling through her suitcase like she’s hunting for treasure.

“Seriously?” I stare at her. “She’s part of their crew? You’ve met her.”

“Oh,” Kash frowns, shrugs. “Sorry, I purged everything related to Liam. Factory reset. New operating system. No viruses.”

She says it so casually, like she didn’t just perform emotional exorcism—and I burst out laughing.

I turn to Ishika. “Um... is Advik coming tonight?”

“Oh you horny bitch,” she says with too much cheer, lobbing a half-eaten pakora at my face. “ Yes . Yes, he is.”

“Advik?!” Kash shrieks like she’s just heard a murder confession.

I instinctively cover my ears. Ishika is cackling. I’m wheezing when both of us burst into the song Beedi . Almost instantly.

And for the first time in forever, the only ache in my chest is from laughing too damn hard.

??????

Last night was amazing. It had to be—Kashvi’s finally here. I can’t even remember the last time the whole crew was together like this. Definitely a few years.

I made a conscious decision not to drink. After that drunk text and even stupider drunk call to him , I wasn’t about to make a repeat performance.

But it’s been four days since. And not a single message from Lucian. Still, his voice won’t leave my head. His words keep echoing.

You didn’t ask the why.

Did I need to?

Maybe not.

But I remember his voice—cracked and quiet—and I felt every sniffle in my bones. Maybe I’m weak enough to believe he was sincere.

Still. I don’t care if he comes up with the most eloquent, soul-shattering explanation known to mankind. It doesn’t change the fact that he once planned to hurt me. That he was once so driven by malice that I was nothing more than a step in his revenge.

Fine. Great. Gold star for being the poster boy of toxicity. But seriously...

Do toxic people follow their victims across the damn ocean?

Apparently, yes . Yes, they do.

I don’t even know why I still have feelings for the man he pretended to be. That man never existed. But lately, he feels more like that man. A little real. A little vulnerable. And I don’t understand it.

But God, why do I want to?

That’s the only way I can justify sitting at this café. Waiting for him. To hear the pathetic “why” he flew across the world to offer.

I’d like to blame Kashvi for this. But really, all she said was one sentence—and maybe I misinterpreted it—but it stuck.

“Looks like he’s finally giving you a chance to get that damn closure. He’s a bitch for it. But yeah... I get it. Maybe he just wants to explain away the blame and walk away.”

Well. If this is closure—I’ll fucking take it.

I don’t plan on dragging it out. I know I didn’t let him speak that night in Toronto. But that doesn’t mean I was ready to listen then.

I’m more equipped now. Stronger. Calmer. Sharper. I’ll ask the right questions. I’ll gauge every word. I’ll let him talk.

He walks in just then, scanning the café. His eyes land on me. And he walks over without a word, sitting across from me like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

I try to read his expression. It’s a mess of regret, tension... and something else. Love?

No. Not acknowledging that.

“You came here to tell me the why ,” I say as evenly as I can. “So go ahead.”

He nods, jaw tight. I notice that he’s still wearing the damn Cooper bracelet when he rests his hands on the table. Fuck .

“I’m going to say some things,” he starts, his voice low. “And you can stop me at any point. Reject it. Shut me down. I get that. But I’m really hoping you’ll let me tell you everything.”

I narrow my eyes at his bluntness—but nod.

He exhales. “When I kissed you on the cheek that first night, I didn’t want to stop. When you beat me at ping pong, I became the proudest sore loser in the world. I was... consumed by you. And at some point, I forgot how it started. Why it started.”

He swallows, shaking his head. “I swear to you— everything between us was real. So fucking real that... every time you brought up that night with Tim, I shut down. Not because it wasn’t important—but because I felt so damn guilty .”

His voice cracks. He pauses. Pulls himself together.

“I started something amazing. With this incredible woman. And I built it all on a lie.”

My throat tightens.

“So when Tim and I met, you just... decided to resume your revenge plot? For old times’ sake?” I ask, biting.

“No,” he says quickly. “That night... I self-destructed. That’s what my therapist helped me understand. That I used my guilt to burn it all down. Because I couldn’t stand how much I wanted you—when I thought I didn’t deserve you.”

I blink. “You said to me: ’This is how I felt. This is what I never got closure from.’ That sounds pretty revenge-y to me.”

His face pales. He shuts his eyes, as if physically bracing himself. “I know. I did say that. Because I was angry. And drunk. And spiraling. But it wasn’t calculated. It wasn’t about you. It was about me thinking I had no right to what we had. So I broke it. Before you could.”

I breathe out a long, slow sigh.

I don’t know what hurts more—what he did, or the fact that he truly believed he didn’t deserve me. That somewhere deep down, he thought this was inevitable.

And for some reason... that shatters me more than it should.

“Okay. Let’s say I believe you,” I say, resting my elbows on the table and leaning in slightly. “Whether it was self-destruction or revenge—either way, you got the end result. That still doesn’t tell me why you’re here .”

He opens his mouth, but I raise a hand to stop him.

“And don’t give me that sappy reason about wanting to be near me. I don’t trust it. I don’t trust you .”

He exhales sharply, like my words physically knocked the wind out of him. “Because... I wanted to give you everything you’d need to move past this. To know that you weren’t used . That you were... collateral. Of my selfishness. Of my complete inability to be the kind of person you deserve.”

I scoff out loud. But inside, I’m spiraling.

Because I believe him. Even if it’s just a sliver. And that terrifies me.

Maybe that’s why the next words fall out of my mouth without permission.

“You’re getting good with words. Even better than before.” I narrow my eyes. “Where are you learning these new manipulation techniques?”

His flinch is violent. The tears that were poorly concealed are now ready to burst out of his eyes.

I shut my open mouth quickly. Noticing him for the first time as a man who might not be lying. Or manipulating me.

We stay silent for a while.

“Lucian,” I whisper, my voice cracking. “I don’t know what’s real anymore. I don’t know if you’re lying or not. And I don’t trust myself with your words. I... I just don’t know .”

He nods slowly, like he’s been expecting that. “I get it, baby, I’m sorry. Shit—I shouldn’t have called you that.”

He buries his face in his hands, groaning softly, wiping at his eyes like the contact burns. “My words mean nothing . I know that. I used them like weapons before. I lied with them. Easily. But I hope you can see the difference now. Feel it maybe. And if you can’t... I get that too.”

He looks utterly broken. And damn it—that gets to me. That look. That helplessness. That quiet devastation. It presses against the softest part of me and threatens to crack it open.

“You should book a flight,” I say gently. “Go back. Focus on Kepler Health.”

His breath stutters, like I just kicked him in the chest. But he nods.

Lucian insisted on dropping me home after our coffee. I told him I came by metro—Delhi’s version of the subway—but he looked borderline offended by the idea of me going back alone.

So I let him. Not because I trust him, but because I’m tired. And because I do need to be home soon. We’re heading to the farmhouse this evening, and knowing my family, the chaos has already reached DEFCON 1.

He parks in front of my parents’ bungalow after a silent ride but doesn’t turn off the engine all the way. The AC hums, low and steady, and the doors stay locked. I turn to him—and that’s when I see it.

His hands are clenched so tight around the steering wheel, his knuckles are pale.

“I hope...” he begins, voice raw, “I hope you don’t take this as manipulation. But I stopped lying a long time ago. I’m so sorry, Aarohi. So fucking sorry for everything .”

He breathes hard through his nose, like he’s holding something back. Then, barely above a whisper, he adds—

“It’s worse because... because I love you.”

His eyes are shut, like the words physically hurt to say.

My heart jumps. Then stumbles. Shit. Not this. Not now.

He’s said those words before. I had scoffed at them then. Tossed them aside like they meant nothing. But now? Now it sounds like... truth .

“You make me want to be better,” he says, more composed now. “So I will be. I’ll get there. Because at one point—the man, the real me that I showed you... you adored him. And I want to be worthy of that.”

Then—he unlocks the doors.

I blink, stunned, still trying to compute what the hell just happened.

Before I can even react, he’s out of the car. Circles around. Opens my door gently like I’m glass.

I get out on instinct, heart thudding loud in my ears.

Because I am too caught off guard.

Too focused on the sound of his confession still lingering in my head.

And that’s the only reason— the only reason —what happened next was not my fault.