Page 45 of Glass Jawed

Lucian

“It’s not here, uncle. I swear I saw it!” I mutter, completely losing my mind. The little fireworks box has disappeared.

I remember putting it here—with the rest of the stuff. This is the only store room in the mansion. Where the hell could it have gone?

Raj Uncle scratches his head. “ Beta , maybe... hmm... the groom’s side stole it?”

I blink. “Stole it? Is... is that a thing?”

He bursts out laughing. “No, no! But anything can happen during weddings. Some families are just scary!”

I laugh too, shaking my head. Honestly, it does feel like two chaotic families crashing into each other. Loud, colorful, opinionated—forming bonds that somehow last.

Jesus . Would my very-divorced parents even survive this glorious circus. Would they get along with Mina Aunty? Would my family dance? Would they... embarrass me?

Would they even come?

I don’t have much of a family. A few cousins, a handful of aunts and uncles, all scattered across North America.

But her family’s all here. Her people. Her chaos. And our wedding, I’d want it to be here. In this beautiful, loud, ridiculous, unforgettable place.

Wait.

Did I seriously just think that?

Because of fucking firecrackers ?

Jesus Christ, what is wrong with my brain?

We’re not even together. Not really. She hasn’t said anything. No label. No “we’re back.” Just Kashvi’s teasing, a haldi-smeared nose, and that forehead kiss.

You don’t kiss just anyone’s forehead during a wedding, right?

You don’t let them kiss your temple in public. In front of family .

Right?

I don’t even realize I’m spiraling until Raj Uncle claps me on the back, jolting me back to earth.

“Oh, just wait till joota churai!” he says.

“What’s that?”

“It’s a tradition where the bride’s family hides the groom’s shoes during the wedding,” he grins. “And they only give them back for a generous price.”

He rubs his thumb and forefinger together, the international sign for cash.

I laugh, despite myself. That sounds exactly like something Rohi and Kashvi would cook up together.

Wait. Ishika and Kashvi... hiding my shoes.

Christ. Stop thinking like this.

I clear my throat. “Do we need the fireworks tonight, Uncle?”

He waves it off. “No, no. Mehendi’s tonight—just the henna ceremony. Fireworks are for tomorrow for the wedding!”

I nod, grateful for the reprieve, and head back toward the courtyard. The haldi chaos has mellowed, but the music’s still going and the drinks are flowing. The evening breeze is cool on my skin.

I’m just about to go look for Rohi when someone grabs my wrist and yanks me around the side of the mansion.

At first, I follow—assuming it’s someone I know. But the second I see who it is, I jerk back hard.

“What the hell?” I snap.

Navya stares at me, arms crossed like she’s channeling a soap opera villain. “Is it true?”

I narrow my eyes. “Is what true?”

She glares harder. “You let Aarohi apply haldi on you?”

I blink. “Yes,” I say flatly. “Right after her mother put it on both of us. What’s your deal , kid?”

“She’s playing you!” Navya hisses. “She’s still talking to Bhaiya and going to his room every night.”

Bhaiya —brother. Advik. Right. Yeah, I don’t think so.

“Listen,” I grit out. “I don’t know why you’re pulling this shit, and honestly? I don’t care. But you’ve crossed a line, and now your other Bhaiya is gonna be—”

“What the fuck is happening?” Advik’s voice cuts through the air like a whip.

He strides toward us, jaw clenched, and my stomach sinks. Great. Just when I was finally making progress with Rohi... now this.

But then—

“Navya,” Advik growls, “I told you what would happen if you didn’t stop interfering.”

Wait. He’s on my side?

“I haven’t been with her since that night,” he says to me, softer now. “And I won’t be. I’m sorry, man. I didn’t know Navya was... stirring all this up.”

“ Bhaiya !” she gasps, switching to rapid-fire Hindi like it’s a damn strategy. Clearly doesn’t want me to understand.

Advik responds in Hindi too—quieter, but pointed. I only catch bits and pieces. Something about Kiki Aunty.

“Alright, enough,” I interject. “Either speak in English or just leave. And Navya, please stop. I’ve given you zero signs— none —to justify whatever fantasy this is.”

“I’m helping you!” she whines.

“You’re helping no one. And your help isn’t needed. I’m sorry, kid, but you aren’t even a remote part of this,” I say.

“You’re coming between two people who are in love,” Advik adds, dead serious now. “And even I’m not doing that, considering everything. Stop. Or I will tell Vicky.”

“You’re blind,” she says to me. “That Kiki Aunty is just—”

“Stop right there,” I snap, voice cold. “Don’t say another word about her. I promise you, it won’t help your case. In fact, it might bury it.”

Then I turn to Advik. “What the hell’s wrong with her, man? Isn’t she... I don’t know, an adult?”

“She’s acting like a ten-year-old,” he mutters, dragging a hand over his face.

“Wow! You’re both so fucking stupid,” Navya seethes. “She’s playing you both like the sl—”

Advik gently places a hand on her shoulder. “Stop.”

And I see it hit her—the line she just crossed. Her face falters.

“Navya,” I say, keeping my tone even even though I’m fuming, “do you want to ruin this wedding? Because I’m very close to having you removed. And I don’t think Ishika would appreciate someone trying to meddle in her cousin’s business. So unless you want me to make a scene, back off.”

Her eyes fill with tears. She sniffles and gives a tiny nod.

“Good,” I say. “Now I’m going to ask you to never— ever —speak to me or Rohi again. Understood?”

Advik exhales hard. “Fuck. This isn’t how I wanted things to go. But Navya... I don’t know what’s gotten into you.”

She looks down and then at me. “I’m sorry. I just—you helped me with my luggage that first day and... I thought...”

What? I don’t even remember that. I must’ve helped the whole family on my first day here. She didn’t even register.

Advik leans in and whispers something in Hindi. She doesn’t reply—just quietly walks away.

“I’m sorry. I’ll talk to her,” he says, watching her go. “Kash told me last night. Otherwise... I’d have stepped in sooner. I think she’s just... fixated. On you.”

There’s concern in his eyes, and I get it. He cares about her. But she’s still an adult. This behavior isn’t excusable.

I nod, swallowing the tension. “I just hope this doesn’t affect your family.”

“I’ll make sure it doesn’t,” he says simply.

An awkward silence lingers. And I try to wrap my head around this. Advik—the man who... shit. I can’t even think about that without wanting to kick his ass.

He breaks silence with a smirk. “Are you worried Kiki Aunty will prefer me over you ? I’d make a great son-in-law, you know.”

The asshole is teasing me and it’s just in poor taste. But I’ve got some ammunition now.

I raise an eyebrow, a cocky grin on my face. “Really? I don’t see a smack of haldi on your face.”

He laughs, smacks my shoulder. “Touché, man. Feel free to make her your mother-in-law.”

“Oh, don’t worry. She’s mine . And I don’t plan to stop until she’s my mother-in-law.”

“Huh?”

The sound nearly knocks the soul out of my body. My head snaps toward the voice— her voice.

Advik starts laughing like a damn hyena. I almost commit murder.

Rohi’s standing there, completely unfazed, licking an ice cream bar. “What are we talking about?”

Advik has now doubled over in laughter.

“Oh, he just wants Kiki Aunty,” Advik says unhelpfully. “Real adamant about it.”

This motherfucker.

“As a mother-in-law ,” I clarify, glaring at him. Then realize what I’ve just said.

Fuck.

“I mean—shit.” I stammer, cheeks burning.

Advik claps my back one more time and walks off, laughing like the bastard he is.

Rohi’s has a slight frown, but her attention is still locked on the ice cream bar in her hand. Then, casually, she walks over.

“You want to make my mom your mother-in-law?” she asks, her tone distracted, gaze still fixed on the melting treat.

Then—to the absolute horror of my dick—her tongue flicks out for a slow, deliberate lick.

I groan. “Okay, stop that.”

“What?” she shrugs, completely unbothered. “You didn’t answer me.”

She licks again, slower this time.

“ Jesus , Rohi.” My voice comes out rough. “You need to stop that, baby. My pajamas are not that forgiving.”

She giggles, finally giving me mercy. “Answer me, Mr. Vale.”

I let out a long breath. “Yes. I do. But I want to take you out on a real first date before I even think about going down on one knee.”

“You’re thinking waaaay too far ahead, Lamebrain,” she teases.

But I don’t laugh. I meet her gaze, steady and serious.

“I know. I know I’m getting ahead of myself. And... I think we need to talk. About today. The haldi. The forehead kiss. All of it.”

She stills. The playfulness fades from her face like a tide pulling back.

“I just need to know, baby,” I say quietly. “Are we... do you want me?”

Her posture shifts—subtly, but enough. Shoulders slumping. Eyes cast to the ground.

“There’s a difference between wanting you and forgiving you,” she says, voice soft but sharp with meaning. “And there are things I haven’t told you. Things we’ve never really talked about. Things I don’t know if we can... get past. But I want to.”

I nod slowly, heart pounding. Panic gripping me slightly. Because I can feel it—whatever she’s holding back, it’s important. Maybe even everything.

“Whenever you’re ready, Rohi. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

She lifts her gaze. And in the middle of that pained little smile, I see it—just the faintest flicker of hope.

“Find me after I get my henna done.”

And with that, she turns and walks away—leaving me wondering whether the distance between wanting and forgiving is just a conversation apart...

...or a chasm we’ll never close.