Page 193 of Glass Jawed
I love her legs because they’re mine to tangle with when we sleep, all angles and warmth and the softest pressure against my thighs.
And her boobs? They’re perfect, because they keep my heart tucked safely underneath along with hers.
Poetic asshole.
But that was almost three weeks ago. I’m in a much better place now—thanks to the weekly peer-based support sessions withKind Mirror. And thanks to someone Lucian introduced me to.
Her name is Diana Marie Graham.
When I learned her story, I cried. For her. For everything she went through. For the fact that her FBI ex-husband showed no remorse. Not even a sliver.
My situation was very different—worlds apart, really—but neither of us pointed that out. We didn’t have to. Apparently, she was also the reason Lucian flew to India in the first place.
“I saw it, Aarohi,” she told me on our Zoom call. “The difference between my ex and Lucian. It wasn’t just remorse. It waslove. And I’m glad you found the strength to forgive him.”
“I... he’s different,” I replied softly. “But not really. He’sback. And working on becoming the best version of himself.”
She smiled, and I smiled back. We spoke for almost an hour before she had to go. But just before signing off, she said something that stuck with me.
“The bruises, Aarohi, will fade. Not becausehe’strying—but becauseyouare. For yourself. My bruises are almost gone now,” she said with a wistful smile. “Yours will too. Just try not to create new ones while you’re healing.”
One night when Kashvi and I were having dinner on a rare Lucian-free night—I was forced to think about the bruises again.
“I keep waiting... earplugs ready at my nightstand,” she began, her voice trembling—uncharacteristically. “But the sounds of you being ripped into two with his monster dick never come.”
My eyes widened at the way she said it.
“‘Rohi, why haven’t you fucked him yet?’There, fixed it.” I said, all while my face was pure horror.
“Fine,” she rolled her eyes. “Why?”
“Because... because he’s... he’s going toseeme and the... the bruises.”
I meant the metaphorical ones. The emotional ones. But apparently, I didn’t say it clearly enough.
She stood up so fast her chair nearly toppled. “Bruises? Who did that to you?”
I exhaled and waved her down, explaining what I meant. That I wasn’t talking about physical marks. But how his old words were like a baseball bat hammering at my already bruised body.
“You’re afraid he’ll... add more bruises?” She squinted at me.
I nodded dumbly.
She was quiet for a while before she frowned. “Damn. That’s deep. But alsodumb. But alsodeep.”
Then she shrugged. “Well, he’s already seen you naked. And aren’t you the one holding the bat this time?”
It was like her stupid, eccentric comment snapped something into place. ThatIgot to decide how close someone got to me. Not like last time—when it felt likehisdecision.Hispursuit.Hispower.
This time, it wasmine.
Things didn’t change overnight, but slowly—like shifting sunlight across a wall.
Our kisses have been lasting longer. My hands have been wandering further.
And tonight... I’m planning something that just might tip us over the edge of all these constant hard-ons and soaked panties.
Kashvi has been politely kicked out. I don’t need her to use her earplugs tonight. Hopefully she finds her way to Liam’s place.
