Page 121 of Glass Jawed
His voice cracks. He pauses. Pulls himself together.
“I started something amazing. With this incredible woman. And I built it all on a lie.”
My throat tightens.
“So when Tim and I met, you just... decided to resume your revenge plot? For old times’ sake?” I ask, biting.
“No,” he says quickly. “That night... I self-destructed. That’s what my therapist helped me understand. That I used my guilt to burn it all down. Because I couldn’t stand how much I wanted you—when I thought I didn’t deserve you.”
I blink. “You said to me: ’This is how I felt. This is what I never got closure from.’That sounds pretty revenge-y to me.”
His face pales. He shuts his eyes, as if physically bracing himself. “I know. I did say that. Because I was angry. And drunk. And spiraling. But it wasn’t calculated. It wasn’t about you. It was about me thinking I had no right to what we had. So Ibrokeit. Before you could.”
I breathe out a long, slow sigh.
I don’t know what hurts more—what he did, or the fact that he truly believed he didn’t deserve me. That somewhere deep down, he thought this was inevitable.
And for some reason... that shatters me more than it should.
“Okay. Let’s say I believe you,” I say, resting my elbows on the table and leaning in slightly. “Whether it was self-destruction or revenge—either way, you got the end result. Thatstilldoesn’t tell me why you’rehere.”
He opens his mouth, but I raise a hand to stop him.
“And don’t give me that sappy reason about wanting to be near me. I don’t trust it. I don’t trustyou.”
He exhales sharply, like my words physically knocked the wind out of him. “Because... I wanted to give you everything you’d need to move past this. To know that you weren’tused. That you were... collateral. Of my selfishness. Of my completeinabilityto be the kind of person you deserve.”
I scoff out loud. But inside, I’m spiraling.
Because I believe him. Even if it’s just a sliver. And that terrifies me.
Maybe that’s why the next words fall out of my mouth without permission.
“You’re getting good with words. Even better than before.” I narrow my eyes. “Where are you learning these new manipulation techniques?”
His flinch is violent. The tears that were poorly concealed are now ready to burst out of his eyes.
I shut my open mouth quickly. Noticing him for the first time as a man who might not be lying. Or manipulating me.
We stay silent for a while.
“Lucian,” I whisper, my voice cracking. “I don’t know what’s real anymore. I don’t know if you’re lying or not. And I don’ttrustmyself with your words. I... I just don’tknow.”
He nods slowly, like he’s been expecting that. “I get it, baby, I’m sorry. Shit—I shouldn’t have called you that.”
He buries his face in his hands, groaning softly, wiping at his eyes like the contact burns. “My words meannothing. I know that. I used them like weapons before. I lied with them. Easily. But I hope you can see the difference now.Feelit maybe. And if you can’t... I get that too.”
He looks utterly broken. And damn it—that gets to me. That look. That helplessness. That quiet devastation. It presses against the softest part of me and threatens to crack it open.
“You should book a flight,” I say gently. “Go back. Focus on Kepler Health.”
His breath stutters, like I just kicked him in the chest. But he nods.
Lucian insisted on dropping me home after our coffee. I told him I came by metro—Delhi’s version of the subway—but he looked borderline offended by the idea of me going back alone.
So I let him. Not because I trust him, but because I’m tired. And because I do need to be home soon. We’re heading to the farmhouse this evening, and knowing my family, the chaos has already reached DEFCON 1.
He parks in front of my parents’ bungalow after a silent ride but doesn’t turn off the engine all the way. The AC hums, low and steady, and the doors stay locked. I turn to him—and that’s when I see it.
