Page 96 of Glass Jawed
Feel free to book a convenient time.
Respectfully,
Diana M. Graham
Fuck.
I stare at the screen. Then I click the link and book an hour-long slot with her a week from now.
After that, I return to what I’d been doing for the past several nights: researching. Reading.Learning.
I’ve devoured over a thousand Reddit posts. Every single one written by someone who lived through a betrayal like Aarohi’s. Each story like a dagger in my gut.
The realization that I made her one of those stories...
That she’s someone’s cautionary tale.
It’s unbearable.
Also, yes.Aarohi.
Even in my head, I don’t dare call her anything else. I can’t. I shouldn’t.
I’m notworthy.
My phone pings.
Liam: Unlock your door.
I frown at the screen.
What?
It’s nearly 12 am, and I thought he’d be knocked out cold by now. He got back from Vancouver a few days ago, and with me on leave, his workload’s doubled. Investor meetings, platform upgrades, client onboarding cycles—he’s juggling fire with one hand and ice with the other.
So what the hell is he doing here?
Still, I drag myself to the front door, confusion turning into unease. The kind that crawls up your spine and whispers this isn’t just a drop-by.
I unlatch the deadbolt. Barely three seconds pass before the door swings open and in walks Liam—looking like hell.
Suit still on from the day, his tie is undone, collar open, hair disheveled, and his face...fuck.
He lookshaunted.
There are dark shadows under his eyes, not just from exhaustion but something else.
“Hey—” I start.
But he doesn’t even look at me. Doesn’t speak.
He beelines straight to the bar cabinet. Opens one. Shuts it. Opens another. A third.
Slamming doors. Grabbing at nothing.
“Liam,” I say, more firmly this time, stepping closer. “I don’t keep alcohol anymore.”
He freezes, hand still resting on the cabinet handle. Then his shoulders drop. And for a second, I swear he might collapse.
