Fragments of Love

We had been together for six years and engaged for two. Our relationship was built on a solid foundation of love.

Charlie was a handsome man and a role model teacher. Although he was the dean, he was still down to earth and often connected with students from all departments of the college.

He had an unbreakable natural boundary. Admirers, whether they were students, colleagues, or strangers on the street, always surrounded him. Yet, he carried himself with a firm declaration to others, “I have a wife. Please don’t get too close."

In my eyes, he was the perfect considerate boyfriend. However, when did he start allowing Miranda to invade our world?

Thinking back, it must have been the first time he complimented Miranda's cuteness.

Initially, he found her bubbly, bold and outspoken nature overwhelming. He even vented to me about how exhausting it was to manage her during his substitute teaching sessions, claiming she was too rowdy.

However, over time, his complaints transformed into admiration. I could still recall the softness in his voice when he remarked, “Actually, she’s kind of cute.”

His expression at that moment overlaps with the look he had when he first confessed to me.

"Rose … you're …. quite adorable. I like you a lot. Do you feel the same about me? Can I pursue you?” he had said.

I was jolted awake by the sound of the running water of Charlie taking a shower. He had returned at nearly six in the morning.

What he had been doing during those missing hours wasn’t hard to guess. I just need to look at Miranda's Instagram to find the answer.

“Mr. Peterson is the best! He promised to stay and comfort me until I fell asleep and he did. Who’s got the most devoted boyfriend? Oh, right, it’s me!”

Expressionless, I gave her post a thumbs-up.

Not a moment later, she sent me a private message through WhatsApp, "Thanks for the like, Miss Jennings. However, don’t get the wrong idea because there’s nothing going on between me and Mr. Peterson.”

When Charlie emerged from the shower, he awkwardly brought in breakfast for me. He said, "Eat this while it’s still warm. I remember you like soy milk."

He hesitated before adding, "About last night … the door being locked was an accident. I accidentally bumped Miranda and she had oil all over her clothes, so she needed to shower and wash her hair.”

I forced myself out of bed and gave him a nonchalant nod.

Only after I finished breakfast did Charlie stand up and pack his bags. I watched him quietly and did not make any effort to speak. For once, he took the initiative to explain, "I applied to be the supervising teacher for the sketching art class. I couldn’t let them work unsupervised.”

“I promised you I’d take care of these kids. I have to keep my word," he told me.

I laughed bitterly. What an admirable sense of responsibility. He took care of his students so thoroughly that it extended to the bedroom. How responsible.

"When are you leaving?" I asked.

“Tonight,” he replied after a pause.

I opened my mouth, but no words came out.

"I’ll be back in time for your next prenatal checkup," he added, sensing my silence.

I did not give any response and when he left for his midnight flight, I had already gone to bed. I had no intention of seeing him off.

A sigh reached my ears, followed by the sound of the door clicking shut. I got up and looked out the window.

Outside, Charlie was already on a call with Miranda. He walked briskly, not once looking back. I watched his figure disappear into the distance.

After they left, the frequent Miranda updated her Instagram even more frequently.

The day Charlie opened a savings account and deposited fifteen thousand dollars into it for her pocket money, I moved out of the apartment.

I retrieved the dowry that I had gotten from his mother during our engagement from the safe deposit box in our bedroom. I packed the thirteen thousand and two hundred dollars in cash and the three-gold jewelry and put them into a gift box.

I brought the jewelry and the money to Charlie's parents without saying a word, but they understood my intention immediately.

Their feelings toward me had always been ambiguous. While they never openly said they disliked me, I knew they had preferred the daughter of the Education Bureau director as their ideal daughter-in-law.

Yet, Charlie had been so resolute in marrying me, that he even threatened to resign and cut ties with them if they didn’t relent.

For him, I had been someone he genuinely loved, once upon a time.

In truth, his parents were never fully supportive of our marriage. Now that I was the one to initiate a breakup, they seemed relieved.

However, Mrs. Peterson, Charlie's mother, still hesitated. Her gaze lingered on my stomach before asking, "How about the baby?

I remained calm as I replied, “I lost it. I slipped and fell on my way to a prenatal checkup a few days ago.”

They said nothing more. They just stood aside and waited for me to leave on my own.

Before I walked out the door, I made one request from them, which was to keep the miscarriage a secret for now. They agreed without question.

Three hours before I departed from the city, I received a rare call from Charlie. "Rose," he said. "I'm sorry. Might need to stay here for another couple of weeks. There’s still some work to finish, so I probably won’t make it back in time for your next prenatal checkup.”

He said again, "Next time, I promise I’ll be there."

I heard him exhale heavily, but I continued packing without any change in my tone when I opened my mouth, "It’s fine. You take care of your work."

What he didn’t know was that there wouldn’t be a next time or any time after that. There was no future left for us.

Before boarding my flight, I mailed a copy of my “post-miscarriage recovery” medical report to his office at the school using express delivery and the recipient was Charlie.