Page 187 of Glass Jawed
Jesus. I nearly jump out of my skin. What’s with these two trying to murder me with their sudden bouts of yelling?
She launches off the floor like she’s powered by rocket fuel and sprints toward me. I glance at Rohi, whose eyes are now wide with something between horror and disbelief.
“What—what’s going on?” I manage.
“What-what!” Kashvi mocks me, giggling as she plops dramatically onto the couch beside me.
“I hear congratulations are in order,” she says, and I’m still watching Rohi, who looks like she’s about to bolt.
Kashvi sighs dreamily. “Can’t believe my plan is working.”
I frown. “What plan?”
“Oh, you know...” she waves her hand nonchalantly. “Now that you’re wrapped around her little ring finger, I can brainwash her into arevenge plot.”
I blink. No panic. No dread. Just... deadpan.
“Really? And what exactly would that entail?”
“Leaving you at the altar,” she replies sweetly.
I snort. “Nice try. I’m not giving her a Western altar to walk away from. Indian wedding, remember?”
Her face lights up. “Perfect!I’ll kidnap her from themandap. Ooooh! Hijack yourbaraat.”
She swings her feet happily.
Then out of nowhere—”Where’s my kadhai paneer?”
“Um...”
“You do want me to call off the hitman, right?” she says with mock seriousness.
Now I’m frowning. “Are you drunk already?”
She bursts into laughter. “No, Lucifer. Just high on mischief.”
But then, softer—more real: “Stupidity aside... I’m glad you fixed things.”
My face goes still. Last night flashes behind my eyes. Everything we said. Everything we admitted. The pain. The healing.
“I won’t hurt her again, Kashvi,” I murmur. “I’m sorry I ever did.”
She pats my hand. Twice. “Call me Kash.”
I blink—my eyes widening. “You... you want me to call youKash?”
“Ew! Not withthatface,” she grimaces.
I laugh, then sober. “Alright. What’s happening right now,Kash?”
She giggles again—floaty, almost suspiciously light. Either she’s drunk, or...
Oh fuck. Is this post-coital bliss? We swapped rooms last night. Which means she was with Liam.
Jesus.
“So those bangles Ishika’s wearing?” she says, pointing. “That’s thechooda. Bridal bangles. Red, white, gold. She’ll wear them for at least three months after the wedding. Or maybe six—I don’t know. It’s how you know she’s a newlywed.”
