Page 168 of Glass Jawed
My breath catches. I know what he’s saying. But still—clarity matters.
“And if I asked you to leave?” I whisper.
The light in his eyes dims slightly, like someone’s turned down a dial. “Then... I’ll leave.”
“You wouldn’t fight?” I ask, voice barely audible.
A flicker of something returns to his expression. Not just relief. But hope.Love.
“I’d find another way to fight for you,” he says. “But I won’t ever make you uncomfortable again.”
And just like that—it hits me. All at once. Like air finally rushing back into my lungs after being underwater.
My whole body softens. “You want me back.”
It’s not a revelation. Not a question. Not even a declaration.
It feels likepermission. Like something I’ve finally allowed myself to see. Forhimto see.
He doesn’t blink. Doesn’t flinch. “How could I not?” His voice cracks. “I don’t just want you back. I wantyou. I wantus. Without lies. Without fear. Without barriers. Without... pain. I want you, Rohi.”
And that’s when the tears come. Fast. Unforgiving.
My eyes shut as the first sob breaks through. Then the second.
But before the third can come, Lucian pulls me into him.
I collapse into his chest, fists tangled in his T-shirt so tightly my knuckles ache. His arms lock around me like he’s scared I’ll vanish if he lets go.
Then I feel it.
A wet warmth against my temple.
His tears.
And somehow... that undoes me more than anything else. So I cry harder.
FORTY-TWO
Lucian
“Gimme that,” I snap at Liam when he tries to grab my sunglasses from my bag.
“Fucker,” he grumbles.
He’s in a plain white shirt and jeans, looking like a lost tourist, while I’m wearing the yellow kurta Rohi picked out for today’s Haldi ceremony. And unlike most events so far, this one’s in the blistering heat under a sun that’s clearly out for blood.
I catch Liam eyeing my outfit with envy. I just smirk, slipping my sunglasses on as we step outside.
It’s surreal that last night even happened.
The memory of holding her—after so long—is still imprinted on my skin. She was trembling, crying. And when she broke, something inside me did too. I hadn’t meant to cry, but I couldn’t stop.
I don’t know why she sobbed like that. Not exactly. I only hope it wasn’t fromhurt. But even if it was... she still clung to me.
How do you reconcile that? Being both the reason someone breaks and the only place they find peace?
The contradiction of it all is maddening. Andhumbling. But I needed to see it. Needed that release. The last time I saw her like that was the night in the park—and then never again. She kept it all locked away.
