Stories About Jealousy Novels & Stories

The touch was innocent, born from shared pain, but it sent a spark of extreme jealousy through Jax that ignited like gasoline on fire. Jax’s eyes burned with possessive rage as he watched Elara comfort the man who had been both ally and rival. The recording’s implications hung heavy in the air, but Jax’s jealousy overshadowed everything else, turning the moment into something dangerous and charged. The inside job had fractured their trust completely, leaving them all raw and exposed in ways that made every interaction feel like walking through a minefield.

Gabriella asked. Dark brown eyes lifted to look at her through thick lashes holding back tears. "You have managed to conquer something I have battled my entire life. Jealousy is a curse in my family. My mother was Spanish and my father was French. He was so good looking. Many women were drawn to him and my mother seethed with jealousy. He loved her dearly and was faithful to her for years until he could take her poison no longer and left us. Her poison infected me. Who could love someone so riddled with fear and loathing? I'm destined to be alone!" she said quietly and tears dripped from lash to cheek. Ben made to get up but Catherine put a hand on his arm as Gabriella got up from her chair

She somehow felt so jealous that Nolan was going to choose a mistress someday. Carla had stated that he was entitled to do so and Layla had read from books and watched movies where a king had over twenty mistresses. She couldn't help but cringe at the thought of Nolan being with another woman. Layla knew that jealousy was an ugly emotion, but she couldn't help but feel it as she thought about the possibility of Nolan being with someone else. She didn't want to share him with anyone, and the thought of him loving someone else made her feel sick to her stomach.

Communication wasn't something that we did, we would always end up arguing by the end. Do you believe that I'm going about this the wrong way? I know that I shouldn't accuse him, but jealousy was eating me alive. It's worse that he won't tell me what's going on. I knew of his reputation before, how he loves his women. What if I wasn't pleasing him anymore? Fuck, I didn't know what to do.

I was a sucker for pretty faces. The only reason I agreed to date Isabelle was because she was passable-looking as partner material. It had only been a few days since junior year started when my roommate came over to me and awkwardly said, "Damian, I just spotted your girlfriend getting pretty close to that well-known broke pretty boy by the campus lake." I immediately rolled up my sleeves and rushed toward the lake. From a distance, I saw Isabelle standing very close to a slim young man. But the moment I got a good look at his face, I froze. "Damn! This guy was insanely handsome!" He was so good-looking that even I, as another guy, was jealous. Isabelle frowned and stepped in front of me.

"I should have thought of it. Who else would accept you if not for this pathetic being? Who else would be desperate enough to" "Research says," Adrian interrupted, his voice dangerously calm, "that people who are jealous of others only do so when they seemingly cannot achieve what the ones they're jealous of have achieved." Pretzel's smile faltered. "Jealous? Of her?" She gestured at me with a dismissive wave of her hand. "What exactly does this scoundrel have that I could ever want? What has she ever had that has ever gained my attention? Nothing. She's a good for nothing. She's always been a good for nothing. She couldn't keep a man, she couldn't build a career, she couldn't—"

The jealousy was a strange sensation, a malady to which Joe Brian had believed himself proof. He had lived a lifetime building defenses against need, against dependence, against the very kind of openness that jealousy represented. He owned human beings, their time, their skills, their allegiance. He did not need them. To need someone was a failure, and failures were something he could ill afford. It began, as these things always begin, with laughter.

He had imagined that something might happen and he could predict the kind of conversation that might have taken place but to actually see Vevina jealous was something that he hadn’t estimated. It was a good surprise. “Are you perhaps jealous?” he asked, chuckling and getting up as he watched Vevina freeze before him. She didn’t like what she had heard. Jealous? Why would she be jealous? “Aren’t you becoming a little too bold in your assumptions?” Vevina asked, hating the word. Her mother had been jealous all her life of the women that her father brought. Jealousy was therefore an emotion of weakness in her eyes. Something that was as disgusting and far crueler than simply killing people. It

-Well, Jaime, what does your wife say, doesn't she make you cough? ... -Lola no, no, she already knows and it's not the first time, since we got married it's the same thing. -But why? -Look, for me Lola was just an affair, but she got pregnant with my only son, I didn't want to get married, but I was forced to do it, from the beginning I told Lola, but she didn't care, she just wanted to get married and so we did it, she is only with me for money, but she knows perfectly well that if she cheats on me, I'll send her away, but sooner rather than later.

It begins as a subtle whisper, a nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach, and before you know it, it has taken root in your heart, engulfing you in a whirlwind of torment and despair. The genesis of jealousy often lies in the fear of losing something we hold dear. It could be a person, a relationship, or even an idea. We become ensnared in our insecurities and doubts, convinced that someone else is better, more deserving, or more captivating. It's as if we're trapped in a never-ending competition, fighting against an idealized version of our fears.