Page 145 of Glass Jawed
What is this?
It’s not guilt. Not even shame.
It’s that stupid organ in my chest, trying to piece itself back together.
Because I’m looking at a symbol of something I once convinced myself wasfake. But now?
Was it really fake?
Would he have gone through the trouble of buying me slippers just to pretend to care? Would he have learned how to cook that elaborate-asskadhai paneerjust to impress my mom for some fuckingact?
I can’t stop the rabbit hole.
Can’t stop wondering if maybe—justmaybe—the relationship wasn’t the lie.
Maybe just the beginning was.
And I sit there crying on the cold floor, with another man wiping my tears.
But they keep coming.
Because they’re nothisto wipe away.
??????
“No, no,no!”
Kashvi barrels into our room like a woman on a mission. “What did he do? What did the devildoooooo?”
I’m sitting cross-legged on the bed, slippers placed carefully in front of me on top of the paper bag, like they’re ancient relics. My quiet sniffles make her skid to a stop.
She narrows her eyes, scanning my face.
I’ve already showered, changed into my bedtime clothes, done my skincare—but I feel like I haven’t moved in what feels like hours. I’m still staring at those stupid slippers like they might grow fangs and bite me.
“Rohi,” she says gently, her tone shifting to serious. “What is thismonstrositydoing on our bed?”
I snort. Just a tiny one. But then the dam breaks again.
She rushes forward and yanks me into a crushing hug, muttering an endless stream of curses while patting my head like I’m both a toddler and a grenade.
We lean back and she uses the hem of my t-shirt to wipe my eyes—pulling at the seam so hard she flashes herself with my tiny tits.
“Rohi,behen, bol kuchh?” she asks softly. (Rohi, sister, say something?)
My face crumples, and I sob the next words like a deranged rom-com side character:
“Why do I s-still l-love... Lucifer?”
And then Iwail. Like an actual baby. Because this is the first time I’ve actually admitted it to myself. Actually spoken the four-letter word out loud—toanyone.
She groans loudly but still clutches me tighter. “I’m going to kill the fucking bastard!”
I hiccup into her shoulder. “Can... can you check on him?”
She pulls back, eyes wide. “What the fuck?No!”
My face twists like I’ve just been stabbed in the heart. My whole body crumples into a pleading heap.
