Page 170 of Glass Jawed
Liam grunts beside me.
Raj uncle grumbles playfully. “I told you it’s for the younger crowd, Kiki. I didn’t want to outshine the bride and groom.”
Kiki Aunty laughs and leans into her husband, murmuring something in Hindi.
That’s when Rohi reaches me—still grinning.
Gorgeous fucking woman. Find a defibrillator—fast.
“You do look handsome,” she says, light as air, propping her sunglasses up.
I tilt my head slightly and grin back. “And you look gorgeous.Always.”
Something flickers in her gaze—surprise? Awe? Whatever it is, it softens her whole face. She gives me one of her upside-down smiles, the kind that makes my heart sit down and shut up.
It feels like we’re in a little bubble.
Until Mina Aunty yells for everyone to head to the gazebo.Pop.
We start walking over, but then—I feel her fingers brush my arm.
I nearly jump.Jesus Christ.
The ceremony kicks off with cheers as family and friends begin smearinghaldipaste over Ishika and Vikram. Laughter erupts from all directions.
I stand to the side, watching with something close to awe, until it’s Rohi and Kashvi’s turn.
But instead of being sweet and graceful about it, they scoop up obscene amounts of paste and slather it across the couple’s faces—cackling like gremlins.
Rohi’s laugh is so infectious I find myself laughing too, even from ten feet away.
Ishika, shrieking, lunges toward her. “Oh you’redead!”
She grabs a fistful of paste, aiming for Rohi’s face—but Rohi dodges like a damn ninja.
And then—she runs.
Straight. At. Me.
Oh hell.
The next second, she’s using me as a human shield while Ishika tries to attack. I get flailed around like a prop, turmeric smeared everywhere—which, conveniently, blends into my yellowkurta.
But I’m laughing. Genuinely laughing.
“No, no, no!Ishi!It’syourstupid wedding!” Rohi giggles.
She darts off again, and I just watch her go—my heart thudding like it’s trying to escape.
I force myself to look away and catch Kiki Aunty watching me.Smiling. And it’s a knowing kind of smile. The kind that sees more than she lets on.
Ishika, still grumbling, climbs back into her tub as Advik and Navya step forward to take their turns.
After a few minutes, the music shifts—faster, louder—and apparently, that’s the signal.
It’s time to dance.
I don’t know any of the songs blasting from the speakers, but my stupid feet still move to the beat—mostly by copying whatever Rohi or Kashvi is doing.
