Page 41 of Glass Jawed

Aarohi

“If you wanted to fuck a woman, you could’ve found one who actually looked like one.”

Some words don’t leave you. You can dig them out, bury them, pretend they’re gone. But they’re not. They linger like mold on your skin—waiting for the next crack to seep into.

And I seem to be collecting those words like a damn comic book maniac.

“My healing came at the cost of your heart.”

“When I say I love you... it’s because I don’t have the energy to pretend anymore.”

I know I’ll carry these with me for a long, long time.

But now is not the time to unpack this. Because I’m staring at Kashvi’s face—flush with red fury—and behind her, Liam’s miserable one.

I step forward until I’m beside Lucian, not behind him anymore. “Kash... it wasn’t Lucian. I think— shit —I think I may have encouraged this.”

Her eyes widen, and just like that, the fire redirects—aimed straight at me. Great.

“Are you serious ?” she gasps. “You’re not that deep in love with Lucifer that you’ll cover for his ass!”

Oh. Ohhh .

“No, no. I’m not—” I glance at Lucian. Huge mistake. Because he’s grinning. Actually grinning .

I scowl and redirect. “I’m not covering for him, okay? Liam messaged me . I didn’t ask him to come here. He just... did.”

“Traitor,” she gasps dramatically.

“Sorry,” I mutter. “But I swear I didn’t tell him where we were. Just that you were with me . For the wedding.”

Lucian clears his throat and gestures toward the mansion. I follow his gaze—Dad’s walking toward us with his usual concerned dad-face.

Kashvi visibly deflates.

“Lucian beta ,” Dad calls out, voice filled with concern. “Everything alright?”

Wow. No concern for me ?

My dad gives a suspicious once over to Liam as he walks past him.

Lucian starts, “Um... uncle, my—”

“This is Liam,” I cut in quickly. “He’s my friend from Canada. He’s also friends with Kash. Actually.”

Kash grumbles something unintelligible. I don’t want Liam to be here as Lucian’s friend. That puts him too far in connections for him to randomly show up here.

I turn to Liam, who looks like he just got caught sneaking into a VIP event. “Liam,” I say sweetly, eyes wide in warning. “Come introduce yourself to my father.”

His steps falter, but he manages to walk over.

“H-hi. I’m Liam Winters. Aarohi and Vee—uh—Kashvi’s friend.”

He offers his hand to my dad, who looks him up and down with quiet confusion. Probably wondering why another random white man has materialized out of nowhere during peak wedding chaos.

“Hello Liam,” Dad says, still frowning slightly. “You’re welcome to join the wedding party.”

Shit.

Then he turns to Lucian. “ Beta , maybe he can stay in your room? And get him something to eat—he looks like he’s traveled far. I think the rajma from lunch is still left.”

“ Ji , uncle,” Lucian says politely. (Yes, uncle.)

Did he just—? He’s becoming too sanskari (cultural). Oh god!

Dad gives Liam one last once-over. Probably wondering why the poor guy’s dressed like he just walked out of a corporate merger. And then he leaves.

I’m trying very hard not to laugh.

“You have some nerve ,” Kashvi snaps at Liam the second Dad’s out of earshot.

Lucian snorts—actually snorts—but sobers real quick under my glare.

I turn to Liam, arms crossed. “How did you even find this farmhouse?”

He’s full-on deer-in-headlights now. Eyes darting to Kashvi like she’s his only hope of survival.

“Uh... don’t be mad,” he says, already halfway to dead. “But I got it from...”

He mumbles something.

“The who ?” Kashvi bites out.

“Christian,” he breathes.

No fucking way. There’s no world in which Christian—Kashvi’s friend—just handed out her location to Liam of all people. What the hell?

“Oh-ho-ho- HO ,” she laughs, the sound high-pitched and homicidal. “He’s dead. You’re dead. You’re all dead !”

Lucian, whose survival instincts are clearly broken, picks that moment to speak. “Sooo... tiny, baby truce. Still on?”

I roll my eyes. Liam looks like he wants to crawl into a ditch.

Kashvi crosses her arms. “Fine. Still on. Now go feed this manchild some goddamn stupid rajma so he has the energy to get the hell out of here .”

Lucian clutches his chest like she insulted his ancestors. “Excuse you—Manju Caterers would never serve anything less than excellent .”

Wait. He knows the caterer’s name? He knows the caterer’s name.

My brain short circuits for a second. This man... he’s fully integrated. Camouflaged into my family like a seasoned wedding pro.

Liam, unwisely, laughs. “Are you like... a servant here or something?”

I’m about to launch into a defense of Lucian when—

“Oh, you wish you were treated like he’s being treated,” Kashvi snaps. “Only people considered part of the family help out. You’re a guest —to my dismay. But Lucian? He’s their own. So fuck you, two-timer!”

And just like that, she spins on her heel and stomps off, fuming.

I glance at Lucian, expecting a smirk or a smartass quip—but he’s just... standing there.

Beaming.

Chest puffed.

Like someone handed him a medal.

That’s when it hits me—he really thought he was helping just because help was needed. He didn’t realize that, under our rules, doing all that work means you belong . Because just like family, he’s working too.

I probably should’ve told him sooner that in this house, being put to work means you’ve been unofficially adopted .

Liam watches Kashvi walk away, stunned. “She... defended you.”

She did. Fuck, I’ve lost an ally.

Then his head snaps toward Lucian, eyes wide like he’s just seen a ghost. “ You ! She defended you ! Oh my God. Am I—am I in the multiverse? Is this still Earth-616?”

Lucian groans. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

I understood that reference.

But I keep my mouth shut, mostly because Liam looks like he’s on the verge of a full-blown existential crisis.

Lucian claps him on the shoulder with a dry smile. “Come on, guest of dishonor. Let’s get you fed before Kashvi returns with a knife.”

Together, they head off toward the center hall, Liam still mumbling about “Vee” not giving him a chance and Lucian trying not to laugh.

??????

The game night is not going well.

For starters, Kash and Liam are suspiciously missing. I caught a glimpse of them arguing in the courtyard earlier, but now—poof. Gone. Together. That can’t be good.

What’s left of the squad is me, Ishi, Simran, Vikram, Advik, Navya... and Lucian. The uncles, aunties, and kids bowed out over half an hour ago, understandably so. We started with good old Antakshari and Charades—classic, harmless. Then someone decided to play Telephone—aka Chinese Whisper.

But this wasn’t the childhood version. No. This was grown-up, boundary-testing, toe-curling Telephone, and the older folks made a tactical exit before someone whispered “handcuffs” into their ear.

The crowd has thinned out dramatically. I don’t mind—it’s late anyway.

I’ve been dodging Advik all night. He tried to talk to me earlier, but it didn’t feel right. Not with everything that’s happened. We’re friends, yes. But after what we shared—and after what I realized —I think some space is necessary.

Especially after that conversation last night, right before we ran into Lucian outside his room. It’s been looping in my head too.

??????

“Are you okay?” Advik asked, as we both quietly pulled our clothes back on.

“Yeah...” I replied, dazed. “I’m... I’m not sure we should do this again, though.”

He frowned and stepped closer. “Why? I mean—I’m fine either way, but... what’s in your head?”

I sighed. “I guess I thought that maybe... doing this would fix something. That my brain would just stop screaming all those ugly things at me. It didn’t.”

“Shit,” he muttered. Then after a pause: “Listen, I’m all for you trying to reclaim sex on your terms. I get it’s hard—especially after everything people have said. And I don’t know what that... Lucian did. But—and please don’t take this the wrong way—I think you’re confusing sex with intimacy.”

That stung. But I stayed silent—trying to absorb his words.

He continued. “Listen... sex requires trust and attraction. Intimacy? Well, I think that requires both of those—and feelings .”

My eyes widened and I let out a disbelieving laugh. “Are you a therapist now?”

He shrugged. “I’ve known you for years, Rohi. Our attraction? It’s always been there. But I don’t think that’s what you’re really looking for. I think... you’re trying to find out if he still wants you. Not just someone. Him . After whatever happened.”

My breath caught in my throat. “I want to yell at you and say no . I really, really do. But... that’s a one-dimensional answer.”

I groaned. “I think I need to talk to Ruth.”

“Ruth?”

“My therapist,” I mumbled, embarrassed.

He gave me a small, understanding smile. “Good. I think you should.”

??????

That conversation hasn’t left me. Not for a second. Not because it hurt—but because it felt... accurate . And I need someone to help dissect it for me.

So now, here we are. Me pretending to be okay. Lucian sitting across the room, probably doing the same. Advik avoiding eye contact too, likely trying to respect the distance I’ve built.

So yeah. Game night? A disaster in slow motion.

After one round of Telephone ends, Lucian glances at his phone and excuses himself quietly.

I won’t lie—I’m curious. But I let it go. He does have a company to run. And with Liam suddenly showing up, there are probably a dozen fires he’s trying to put out remotely.

We shift gears and play another round of Antakshari —back to basics. Honestly, nothing beats the rush of remembering a song just in time and belting it in your opponent’s face like it’s a war cry.

But our teams are painfully small now. Even Navya bowed out after her fifth yawn.

Eventually, we call it a night.

I start toward the staircase near the back door when I catch the sound of low murmurs—tense, hushed, like the beginning of an argument.

My nosey ass is instantly intrigued. Please be Kash and Liam, I think, nearly giddy at the potential drama.

I sneak toward the back garden, all light feet and curiosity. But the second I spot them, I stop cold.

Navya is sitting next to Lucian on the bench.

Too close. Way too close.

But Lucian’s posture is telling—he’s leaning back, like she’s a live wire.

Relief floods me. Only for it to crash the very next second.

Because I hear what he says.

His voice is low, placating , like he doesn’t want to be overheard. Like this is private .

“Navya. I promise you, you have nothing to worry about. Aarohi and I are absolutely not together.”

My heart drops.

I mean, yeah. We’re not together. I know that. But hearing him say it like that—to her —what the hell?

Is he... trying to reassure her? Is he trying to get with her?

No . No fucking way. That’s not who he is. Not the Lucian I’ve come to know. Not the man who’s spent the last few weeks proving he’s not that guy anymore.

The thought alone short-circuits my brain. Because I trust him. I trust him enough that the idea of him betraying me with Navya while he’s been confessing his love for me is... unthinkable.

So unthinkable that my dumbass mouth makes a noise before I can stop it.

A stupid little yelp.

Loud. Awkward. Obvious .

God . A gasp would’ve been more subtle.

Both their heads whip toward the sound. Toward me .

And I wish the garden would just fucking eat me alive.

“Sorry,” I mumble, turning to leave.

Lucian moves fast—panic flashing across his face as he bolts upright, keeping Navya at arm’s length like she’s radioactive.

“Rohi,” his voice is low, lethal, hot —”don’t you dare take one fucking step back inside.”

Okay. So I used to think I wasn’t the type of girl who’d melt over a man’s tone alone.

Turns out—I lied.

Because that voice? That voice could melt the polar ice caps. That voice could short-circuit my brain and set my ovaries on fire simultaneously. And it has .

And wait—did he just call me Rohi?

Fuuuck . I’ll allow it.

“Lucian!” Navya whines like the child she is.

He doesn’t even blink. Just stares her down like a damn apex predator.

“You need to back off, kid,” he growls, voice all grit and menace when she takes a step toward him.

Oh. My. God. Say it again. Growl it into a mic. Put it on vinyl.

“It’s fine—” I start, even though it’s very much not.

“No, it’s not,” he cuts me off, eyes burning. “She very generously informed me that you were cheating on me with her cousin. I was just setting the record straight.”

Then he turns to a wide-eyed Navya, and though his voice softens by a hair, his words are still sharp.

“You need to leave. And I won’t be taking this to Vikram. But if you keep dragging me onto dance floors or brushing up against me during meals, I will have a word with him—wedding or not.”

What an absolutely normal response, but...

...Puddle.