Fragments of Love

"She’s just a young and innocent girl, why are you angry at her?" Charlie had said. However, he had forgotten that before Miranda appeared, those moments were ours alone, me and him.

After that trip, I gave him the cold shoulder for a day. Unlike before, he did not try to make amends. Instead, he left me alone in the apartment.

Now, here we were. I could not understand how someone could change so quickly.

As for Miranda, technically, I was her homeroom teacher before my vacation. Back then, Charlie would often come to my class to wait for me so we could eat or go home together. The girls in my class loved to tease me about our relationship and Miranda stood out among them.

She loved hounding me with questions. Her wide eyes would spark with curiosity when she asked, "Miss, Is Mr. Peterson a very patient man?" or, "Teacher, has Mr. Peterson told you when he’ll marry you?"

Now, it hit me. Had Miranda been targeting Charlie all along?

I blinked against the dryness in my eyes.

What about Charlie? When did he decide to let her into his world?

Charlie's cold voice interrupted my thoughts as he set the dishes on the table.

"Dinner’s ready," he said, looking at Miranda.

When his gaze fell on the bag of chips in her hands, he chuckled softly and walked over. Gently he tapped her head and scolded, "It’s almost dinnertime and you’re still snacking? You’re like a child."

Pouting, Miranda replied, "Well, I’m seven years younger than you, so of course I’m a child."

They kept on flirting as if they were alone. They did not notice my face went white like a ghost.

When he raised his body and looked at me, he only said indifferently, "Let's eat.

Even though he said that there were only two bowls on the table, one for him and one for Miranda.

Pressing my lips together, I quietly walked into the kitchen. The moment I opened the rice cooker, my hand froze. There was barely a spoonful of rice left. He had only cooked enough for two.

When I returned to the dining room empty-handed, Miranda tilted her head curiously and asked, "Miss Jennings aren’t you eating?"

I just shook my head without saying anything.

Meanwhile, Charlie peeled a shrimp brought it to Miranda’s lips and said, "Don’t worry about her. Just eat. Who knows why she’s always in such a bad mood?"

I inhaled sharply, unable to hold back my tears. My voice trembled as I choked out, "There’s no rice left. That’s why I didn’t bring any out. Stop blaming everything on my supposed bad temper!"

My voice was sharper than intended. It was breaking from the strain of my emotions.

Startled, Miranda shrank into Charlie’s arms. He shot me a cold glare and snapped, “Enough! You’re scaring her!"

Then he added, "Rose Jennings, you’re twenty-eight years old and a teacher. How can you be so emotionally unstable?"

After soothing the frightened girl in his arms, he got up and went to the kitchen. When he came back, he placed a bowl of rice on the table. However, it was just the brunt scraps that he scraped from the bottom of the rice cooker.

A flicker of discomfort crossed his face as he muttered, "Uh, it’s not much, but it’ll do for now. I must’ve cooked too little."

I forced a bitter smile, too drained to argue.

There was no point mentioning the rice, there was also the fact that all the dishes on the table were too spicy for me to eat.

"It’s fine. You two enjoy your meal," I said, then turned around to leave.

Before I could go, Charlie grabbed my arm, his brows furrowed with irritation.

"What are you making a fuss about now? There’s half a bowl of rice right there!"

I laughed bitterly, my voice trembling as I pointed to the dishes on the table.