Page 30 of Glass Jawed
I groan, because I know what’s been on my mind constantly.
Not Tim.
Her.
How she prepares my coffee order before I even arrive on the mornings she’s working. How our lunch date went after my guest lecture this week—not a snide remark in sight. How her voice was starting to go soft.
How cripplingly attractive she was.
No flinching. No biting remarks.
Just Rohi. As she is.
“Do you think your relationship with him was perfect?”
That freezes me.
Was it? Clearly not if he cheated.
I rewind back. There was distance. Moments where I felt him pulling away, but I didn’t know why. Or maybe I did, and I ignored it. Either way—I never confronted it. Never asked. Neverdidanything.
“No, I don’t think our relationship was perfect.”
He claps my thigh. “And now I get to call you out.”
I blink.
“You once said that Tim destroyed something that was perfect. A relationship that could’ve headed for marriage. This was three—maybe four months ago. You were drinking but not drunk. Although, that’s not new.”
A rough breath escapes as I drag a hand over my face. Had I really idolized my relationship with Tim? Maybe. I knew we were in a rough patch—Cooper had just passed, I was drowning in work, barely sleeping. But I thought we’d get through it.
Meanwhile, Tim was... trying to figure himself out. Questioning his sexuality in silence while lying next to me every night.
“Okay,” I exhale. “So maybe I’m conflicted.”
Liam stays quiet, which isn’t rare.
“I know for a fact I don’t want Tim back. There’s no fucking way. But—”
I pause mid-thought, catching the flicker in his expression as he glances between me and the paused screen.
“What?” I narrow my eyes.
“Whatwhat?” he tries to play it off, shifting in his seat.
“That face you just made.” I point. “You think I want Tim back?”
Liam scratches the back of his head and lets out a sigh. “No... I don’t think you do. But that doesn’t mean you should start dating someone when you’re still wondering whether you’re really past all of it.”
The words land harder than I expect. There’s something unsaid in his tone. A line he doesn’t cross. I bristle, but let it go.
“I’m just talking holistically,” he continues. “I think you’reover Tim. But you’re not over what hedid.”
That earns a slow nod from me. Because yeah... maybe he’s right.
Eventually, we go back to our game. We play until just past eleven. He gives me a quick side-hug before heading out, leaving behind the faint scent of beer and a gnawing loop of thoughts.
I stare at the door after it closes.
