Page 180 of Glass Jawed
His breath catches.
I swallow past the ache in my throat. “When I saw her...that woman... she was so... well, I started wondering if you were imagining someone else when we—”
He drops the cotton ball.
“Never,” he says, his voice rough, eyes flashing. “Not once. Not for asecond. I waswithyou, Rohi. Always. In my mind, in my heart, in my fuckingbloodstream. There wasneveranyone else.”
His words are beautiful. But it’s the way he says them—with grit and anguish—that nearly cracks me open.
The silence returns, but this time, he’s the one to break it.
“I never processed what Tim did to me,” he begins, voice low. “Ishouldhave. I should’ve given myself time to sit with it, to talk about it. Instead, I kicked him out and moved on like it was nothing. I never really looked inward. Maybe if I had, I wouldn’t have turned to drinking. Wouldn’t have let myself rot from the inside out until I became a man who couldhurtyou—or anyone.”
My breath catches. His shame is palpable.
“My therapist, Alan, told me I have a habit of movingoninstead of movingthrough. That’s how I coped with my parents’ divorce. With every relationship since. And with Tim? I didn’t just move on—Iburiedit. Deep.Toodeep. He cheated on me while I was thinking of us as something solid. And that broke something in me. I never got closure but... it wasn’this to give. It wasmine to build.”
I remember his ravaged face from that night. It wasn’t just a man who was cruel. It was a man who I saw breaking in real time.
“Lucian...”
“And then Ibecamehim.” He pauses to collect himself. “Worse. I became a man who could think of someone else as... as a tool for myownbroken selfishness. To gain closure by spewing the... theuglinessthat Tim gave me, out into the world. Because I thought I was... I wasowedthat. And when I came here, all I wanted was to make sure thatneverhappened to you. I didn’twant you to bury this pain. I wanted to help you movethroughit.”
His voice softens, almost reverent. “But you didn’t need me. You were already stronger than I’veeverbeen. And when I realized that, all I wanted... was to be someone you didn’t look back on with regret. Someone you could believe in again. Because the man you saw during our relationship—the one who cooked for you, held you, bought you the plushy slippers, whorefusedto take the bracelet off... he wasreal. I was trying, Rohi. Maybe not enough. Maybe not in time. But I wastrying. To come back.”
He smiles faintly, brokenly.
“Well... until I wasn’t. Until I broke us.”
I don’t even realize I’ve been crying until he reaches up and gently wipes the tears away with his clean hand.
But they don’t stop.
So I turn, swiping them off with my shoulder—uselessly.
They just keep coming.
“I c-called it...” I sob, choking on the words. “R-rape b—”
I can’t finish.
Because the moment I say it, he looks down. And something in himbreaks. Shame settles over his face like a shroud, his shoulders collapsing under the weight of it.
His tears follow mine, silent at first. Then not so silent.
“Baby...” he whispers, voice raw and hoarse, “it was eitherthator... I’m a cheater.”
He blinks rapidly, swiping at his eyes, but they’re overflowing now. Just like mine.
“I want to say this—and I know it’s not an excuse—but from them-momentI kissed you, the only things I felt were love... and g-guilt. Crushing guilt. For starting our relationship with a l-lie. But never... neverthat. The plan—whatever twisted revengeI had in my head—it was already gone. You werereal. What we had wasreal. I don’t know if that helps.”
His voice fully cracks at the end. He pauses, shoulders shaking.
“I don’t think it does,” he admits, brokenly.
That’s what undoes me.
Not his pain. Not his remorse. But his hopelessness. That even his honesty now might not be enough.
