Page 204 of Glass Jawed
He glares at the ceiling like it personally betrayed him. “He’ll know exactly how to manipulate me legally.”
I curl into his side, laughter still bubbling in my chest. “Relax, Mr. Vale. You’ve got time to plot your cross-examination.”
“I already started,” he says darkly. “First question:What are your intentions with my daughter and why do they suck?”
I giggle and kiss his shoulder. He exhales, wrapping an arm around me.
A long, quiet moment stretches between us—comfortable, familiar. And full of every version of love we’ve ever known. From broken pieces to rebuilt hearts. From bruises to becoming.
“Still can’t believe we have kids in university,” he murmurs wistfully.
“I still can’t believe you proposed to me with my robe half open.”
He laughs, low and soft. “That wasn’t a proposal, woman. That was a—”
“Warning,” I finish with an eye roll. “Yeah, yeah. I know.”
He smiles into my hair, and this time when he speaks, it’s soft and certain. “Thank god for those damn slippers.”
And just like that, right there on our couch, we burst into laughter. Still imperfect. Still us. Still worth it.
Can’t get enough of Lucian and Aarohi?
Here are, not one, but two never-before-seen bonus epilogues!
BONUS EPILOGUE ONE
Lucian
TWO MONTHS AFTER
MOVING TO VANCOUVER
“Uh... it’s a three-carat oval with a diamond-studded white gold band,” I tell Kiki Aunty.
She’s been after me for days to send a picture of the ring, and up until now, I’ve only had mockups. But today? Today I have the one.
My mom and Kiki Aunty have been absolutely unhinged since I started ring hunting. It’s become their shared obsession—texting ring designs, sending me voice notes with “constructive feedback.” Honestly? I don’t mind. Because nothing will ever feel good enough for my Rohi anyway. But if it makes them happy to obsess, I’ll let them.
“Ohbeta, are you sure? Wouldn’t gold be better?” she asks gently, her face soft and curious on my phone screen.
We video call often. Rohi thinks it’s just our moms who’ve gone full wedding-planner-mode, but the truth is—I’m just as deep into the chaos. Quietly. Happily.
I send the photo. And just like that, I watch her face shift from cautious to ecstatic.
“Oh wow! No—this is beautiful. Ohhh…”
Aaaand there go the tears.
Every time I do anything remotely wedding-related, Kiki Aunty cries. It’s a pattern now. A sweet one.
Kash? She’s more reserved. The type who begrudgingly accepts that I’m not going anywhere and eventually gives in.
To be fair, she’s still working things out with Liam. But she’s the one who helped me pick this design, so I know she gets it—how important this is.
“Aunty, please don’t cry,” I say, grinning.
She sniffles and nods, trying to get it together. “Record a video, okay? And send it to me.”
