All Chapters of The next door love: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

I was in the kitchen with Elijah when my phone rang.I glanced at the screen and froze.Zara.I stared at the name like it might disappear.“Elijah,” I said slowly, “my best friend is calling me.”He looked up from where he was pretending to wash dishes. “The one you always talk about?”“Yes,” I said. “The one that traveled to the States three years ago.”He smiled. “Answer it.”I picked up immediately. “Zara?”“Amara!” she screamed through the phone. “Oh my God, you picked!”I laughed, already feeling emotional. “When did you get back?”“I landed this morning,” she said. “And before you ask—yes, I came straight home. I missed you.”My chest tightened. “You didn’t even tell me you were coming.”“I wanted it to be a surprise,” she said. “Are you home?”I hesitated for half a second. Then smiled. “Yes.”“Good,” she said. “Because I’m coming over. Right now.”The call ended.I stood there, still smiling.Elijah raised an eyebrow. “She sounds… loud.”“She is,” I laughed. “And dramatic. An

Zara didn’t disappear after that conversation.If anything, she became more present.That morning, I woke up to the smell of food and the sound of laughter in the living room. I rubbed my eyes and walked out slowly.“What is happening?” I asked.Zara turned around from the kitchen. “Good morning, sleepyhead.”Elijah stood beside her, holding a spoon. “Your friend is bossy.”“She has always been,” I said, smiling.Zara pointed the spoon at me. “Don’t pretend like you don’t love it.”I laughed and sat at the table. “Why are you both cooking?”“Correction,” Elijah said. “She’s cooking. I’m just trying not to get kicked out of the kitchen.”Zara nodded. “He’s learning.”I watched them and felt something warm settle in my chest. It felt good—seeing two people I cared about in the same space, not clashing, not awkward.Zara placed a plate in front of me. “Eat.”“Yes, ma’am,” I said.Elijah laughed. “She scares me a little.”“She should,” Zara replied. “I protect what I love.”I looked at he

By the time Zara left that evening, the house felt quieter—but not empty.Elijah stayed.Not because I asked him to.Because it felt natural.We were in the kitchen, washing dishes together. I rinsed; he dried.“You know,” I said, “this feels very… domestic.”He smiled. “Is that a bad thing?”“No,” I replied quickly. “It’s just new.”He leaned against the counter. “New can be good.”I glanced at him. “You’re not scared of that word, are you?”“Domestic?” he teased.“No,” I said, rolling my eyes. “New.”He thought for a moment. “I’m not scared when it’s with you.”That made me pause.I turned off the tap. “You’re very sure of yourself.”He shrugged lightly. “I’m sure of us.”We moved to the living room and sat on the couch, close but comfortable. His arm rested along the back of the couch, his fingers brushing my shoulder every now and then.“Zara likes you,” I said.He laughed. “I feel like that’s a big achievement.”“It is,” I agreed. “She doesn’t trust easily.”“I don’t blame her,”

Elijah didn’t let go of my hand the entire morning. Even when we brushed our teeth side by side, even when he reached for his shirt, his fingers stayed linked with mine like letting go wasn’t an option anymore. “You know,” I said, watching him struggle to pull a T-shirt over his head with one hand, “this is very impractical.” He grinned. “Worth it.” We ended up back on the bed, not sleeping, just lying there—faces close, legs tangled, his thumb tracing slow lines on my arm like he was memorizing me. “You’re very touchy today,” I teased. “Correction,” he said softly. “I’m comfortable.” That word again. Comfort. I shifted closer, resting my head on his chest. His heartbeat was steady, calm. “I like mornings with you,” I admitted. “I was hoping you’d say that,” he replied. “Because I want a lot more of them.” His hand slid to my waist, firm but gentle, pulling me fully against him. There was no rush, no urgency—just warmth and closeness that felt intentional. “You feel diff

Elijah showed up earlier than he said he would. I was still in my room, standing in front of my wardrobe, holding a black dress in one hand and a blue one in the other like they were about to answer me. They didn’t. Then came the knock. “Amara,” his voice called, amused. “If you’re changing outfits again, I’m timing you.” I groaned. “You’re not supposed to be here yet.” “I know,” he said. “I missed you.” That made me pause. I opened the door slowly, and the way his eyes moved over me—slow, appreciative—made my breath hitch. “Wow,” he said simply. I crossed my arms. “I’m not done dressing.” “You’re done enough,” he replied, stepping closer. “Come here.” Before I could argue, he slipped an arm under my knees and lifted me. “Elijah!” I gasped, grabbing his shoulder. “What are you doing?” “Carrying you,” he said calmly. “You were taking too long.” “You can’t just—” “I absolutely can.” I laughed despite myself. “Put me down!” “Not until you stop smiling.” I realized too