Respectfully disagree. Chantal does not love Nader or have romantic feelings for him…she only thinks she does. She’s incapable of fully and selflessly loving another person. She loves the concept of him and the attention and dick, but hates the rest of who he is. She hates his cooking, hates his exercise hobbies, doesn’t understand half the things he says, admitted she likes his company better when they’re both high, and barely listens to what he has to say. Every convo she has with him involves Nader saying something, followed by Chantal only half-comprehending it and giggling hysterically like a brain-damaged child at it, in a blatant show of currying favour, wearing an expression that’s half fear of rejection, half excitement at having a man talk to her. She obsesses on him, willingly denies reality to hang onto him and has transferred all her narc supply needs to him, but she doesn’t love him. Love is about compromise and Chantal won’t even stop hamming piggysnacks into her mouth for him, not for a moment. She waddled away in fear the last time he tried to make her eat a sensible meal. She loves greasy carby sauced-up salty food, will die for that food (and is, in fact, doing so right now, in front of our eyes), she’ll drive four hours round trip for her favourite fast food…but when Nader says, “let’s take a walk,” she panics and cries abuse. She will take any ACTUAL abuse from him to hold on to her dick trophy, but she won't let him come between her and her real love, obscene amounts of shite food.
What she feels for Nader is prideful possessiveness, validation in the eyes of her audience, delight at being begrudgingly paid attention to for hours on end, and desperation to claim ANY tall, non-obese man as hers before she keels over. She doesn’t love anyone because she’s 14 years old mentally, and nobody at the age of 14 has the emotional depth to experience true love. All she feels is possession and validation.