“You’re jealous for no reason,” she says, trying to reason with me like she always does.
“There’s always a reason when he’s near you,” I growl back.
She leans closer and cups my face. “You have my heart, Dev. Stop tormenting yourself with ghosts that aren’t real.”
“I know Ihaveyour heart,” I murmur, holding her gaze, “but that doesn’t stop me from feeling jealous when someone else looks at you, sweetheart.”
She shakes her head, a faint smile on her lips, and I let the topic drop. Instead, I help her pick out a red saree.
When she’s finally dressed, I can’t tear my gaze away. The way the fabric curves over her bump makes her look utterly breathtaking.
A few hours later, dinner is finally done, and we all settle into the living room. Her parents take one couch, my dad and Veer take another, while Samarth lounges in the single recliner. Meera perches beside me on the two-seater, and soon, we drift into easy, comfortable conversation.
But every time Samarth looks at her with that gentle, platonic warmth, a flare of possessiveness tightens in my chest, making me want to break something.
Meera squeezes my hand with a silent command:Behave. And it’s the only thing stopping me from walking over and breaking his teeth.
It’s almost ten and Dad and Veer retreat to their room, while Meera slips away to our bedroom with her parents to spend some time with them. I make my way to the balcony, intending to talk to Samarth.
When I reach the terrace, I find him already there, leaning against the railing. As I approach, he glances over his shoulder, then turns and settles fully against it, hands folded, as if he knew I’d come.
I exhale sharply, my fingers tightening on the railing. “I’m not good at this… talking.”
“I know,” he says with a small smile.
I ignore the jab. A full minute drags by before I clear my throat, feeling like each word is a damn boulder I’m shoving uphill.
“For the way I behave with you…” I begin, then snap back only for my pride to bare its teeth. I take a deep breath and try again. “I shouldn’t keep snapping at you,” I manage, the words tasting bitter on my tongue.
“You do that because you are jealous,” he says plainly.
I glare at him, irritated by his mocking. “Don’t you dare label it.”
“I didn’t mean it as an insult.”
“I don’t care how you meant it.” There I go, hating anything he has to say, even when it’s the truth.
He lets out a small chuckle under his breath. “Dev, I’ve never crossed a line with Meera. And I never will.”
“I know,” I say quietly. “It’s just that with her, my jealousy always gets the better of me.”
Samarth nods. “She loves you deeply. That’s never going to change.”
I swallow hard because hearing someone else say it hits differently.
“And I know how important you are to her, and she would never want you upset because of me,” he continues. “So if my presence ever makes things harder for you, just tell me. I’ll step back.”
“No.”
He looks at me, surprised.
I continue, “I don’t want her losing her friend because I’m—” I stop myself before I can say insecure. Because Dev Rathore does not admit to insecurity.
He waits, his eyebrows raised. “Because you are…?”
“Because I’m possessive,” I finish. “And it’s not your job to shrink to accommodate that.”
“Fair enough.”
