Chapter 16: Jealous Much?
Arnaud’s P.O.V
My words have come back to haunt me.
Zoya looks so incredible that an Indian guy did fall for her. And it’s no random dude at that, it’s her childhood best friend Jay. I don’t stand a chance anymore.
It’s been three months since the wedding and a lot of things have changed. Zoya still stays with me, but she is no longer the same girl who moved in. She spends most of her time at the university or with that damned Jay fellow. I can understand that they were childhood best friends and shared a lot of memories together, but she is forgetting her other friends. I spoke to Ava and she too affirmed that Zoya had been spending a lot less time with her than usual.
Not that I’m spying on her or anything, I just care about my friends and their well-being. And Zoya is more than a friend to me. I don’t know what our current relationship status is, but I understand that we became something more than friends when she agreed to be my date to Laurent’s party.
During the pre-Jay period, evenings were the best part of my entire day. They got me through work, the stupid pranks my annoying boss played and the constant attempts at flirtations by Christine, my colleague. I knew that Zoya would be there at home to open the door for me.
With that smile that lit her eyes and illuminated the whole room, she would ask me how my day went while expertly massaging my aching shoulders. She would then share a glass of wine with me and laugh at my stupid lame jokes. We would slow-dance to soft music in the candlelight, her head resting right below my chin, my face buried in her beautiful hair, silken to the touch.
It was all that mattered.
Her laughter, the way she licked the chocolate off her spoon (and more often, her fingers) after having scrumptious chocolate mousse,(totally oblivious to the effect it had on me; the way she nodded her head and her hair bounced up and down; the way she would enthusiastically jump up and down when she wanted to say something… Every little thing about her just made me love her a little bit more.
Thanks to her, my house felt like home. Everywhere I look, I find a little of Zoya: in the knick knacks she purchased from India, her favorite books resting next to mine, a colorful painting by her sister hanging on the wall in the living room, the Bollywood magnets on the fridge... EVERYWHERE.
Now, it’s not the same. If I’m lucky, I may just get a glimpse of her before she leaves in the morning,
If God was really benevolent, then maybe He would allow a conversation over coffee or sometimes a quiet peaceful dinner together, just the two of us, before that blasted Jay turned up and took her away for a dessert or a long walk.
Trust me, his walks are so long, it’s a miracle she hasn’t ended up in Australia.
I hate the way he makes her feel, the way she smiles so openly with him, the way she playfully smacks his arms when he whispers sweet nothings in her ears, and the way he puts his hand possessively over hers as though he has sole rights over her.
Last time we ate at my house, the conversation became two-sided with Jay purposely bringing up some childhood memory and Zoya defending herself. Before Zoya could tell me about the incident, he brought up another memory. I smiled through the whole dinner and my jaw has never hurt more.
I felt like breaking his jaw, but that wouldn’t have been very polite.
I cornered her in the kitchen when she came to fetch wine, but before I could say or do anything, Jay appeared. It’s like he has this siren that goes off every time I get close to Zoya.
God is truly trying my patience with this guy. I’m at my nerve’s end, especially when Jay comes twice in the same day to pick up Zoya as though once was not enough. He comes by in the morning for breakfast (he thinks that I don’t feed her well or something) and in the evening for dessert. I often feel like beating the crap out of him but I know that will make Zoya angry (although, I could handle that... she is extremely attractive when she is enraged) and even worse, it will make her sad.
The one thing I can’t stand is tears in Zoya’s eyes.
My love for Zoya overpowers my hate for Jay and if she is happy with him, I will readily step behind. I’m trying to be the bigger man and it’s hurting me more than anything. I need to talk to Zoya, to tell her how I feel about her, about us.
That can only happen if I get her alone to myself.
The thought of how I would use that precious time to make her understand my feelings and make her reciprocate them, to blow her mind completely, makes me smile. But with Jay hovering over me like that, my chances are slim.
Slim, but not impossible.
AN : Hey guys, I hope you enjoy this chapter. What do you think of this growing distance between Arnaud and Zoya? It's the first time I have attempted writing from a guy's point of view so I appreciate your feedback. Would you like more chapters with Arnaud's P.O.V? Comment and vote and I'll update chapter 17 fast.