Zoya’s P.O.V
Once I was finally satisfied that I had given the man enough medical treatment so that he would not get infected by any bacteria, it was time to wait.
At first, I only sat next to him, feeling his warmth and listening to him breathe as he slept on, further into the sweet embrace of the night. But I quickly realized that it was not a very ideal position to be in. First of all, watching someone sleep, even though it was not my intention, was creepy. Second, I felt sort of restless as I sat here, doing nothing.
To cure my restlessness and make me feel as though I was doing something worthwhile during my free time, I stood from my sitting position on the floor, deciding to go around the house to explore and make it feel more like a home and less of an abandoned, unloved building.
The first thing I did was to remove all the dust cloths that covered the furniture in the house. I then folded them and put them away in the cabinet that I found in one of the rooms. Thanks to those coverings, the furniture were safely protected from dirt, dust, and grime that would have otherwise accumulated as time flowed by, so they were very much available for my use without having to be cleaned.
As for the rest of the cabin, though, I could not say the same. There was dust everywhere, and I was only so relieved to find that there were no signs of a termite infestation anywhere. What I did manage to find, though, was a broom, a dustpan, and a feather duster, which I used to do some minor cleaning around the house.
As I cleaned, my mind wandered back to the events of the previous day, back to everything that had happened that brought me here, in this very situation. It had all happened so fast, like a domino effect where one thing led to another to another to another. I barely had time to breathe, and just when I thought I could finally catch a break, something would happen again.
The fact that things were not going the way they should have, the way I wanted, made me feel like I was the one in the wrong. Was my mother right, then? Was I the one to blame for all this shit after all?
Was I the one to blame for my fiancé's infidelity, for my cousin's betrayal? Was I the one to blame for not being enough for Ravi, to the point where he felt the need to cheat on me?
I knew in my heart that the answer to all those questions was a singular, definite no. Still, there was no stopping the seed of doubt once it had buried itself beneath the soil of my mind.
Where did I go wrong? Did I love my work too much? Was that even a crime? Did I not give Ravi enough attention? Did I not make him feel loved? And my cousin, did I not make her feel important throughout the entirety of our friendship? Did she not feel any sort of loyalty for me?
They left me for each other — what did that make me?
I shook my head. I must not think this way. If I keep spiraling downward, toward this storm cloud of self-doubt and pity, then it only means that they've won. To keep some semblance of my pride and dignity for myself, I must keep my head above the water, no matter how hard the world tries to pull me beneath the waves.
I turned my questions the other way around, targeting Ravi instead of myself. Why were all men interested in just one thing, sex? Why did they not treasure the bond of love the same way they craved for a sexual relationship? Did they not see any value in an emotional connection? Did sex have to be a constant factor in the equation for men to treat it as something worth their while?
Was my decision to remain a virgin until marriage wrong? Was it my fault for getting into a relationship, an engagement, without being ready to give that part of myself away, even to someone I had supposedly loved? Was it my fault, then, that Ravi cheated on me with my cou—? No. I had to stop this.
I must not blame myself. I must not.
Other people have taken too much from me. I must not shred the pieces of myself to splinters as well. If I did not love myself, who would? If the recent events of my life were any indication to go by, it seemed that no one would.
I finished removing most of the dust from the house, having only swept the areas I could reach and see, as I was too exhausted to move the furniture around and clean the places that light normally wouldn't touch.