Chapter 1

En route to my prenatal appointment, I stumbled and lost the baby. Charlie Peterson vanished for three days.

My final attempt to reach him ended with another dismissive hang-up. Later, I spotted him in his student's social media post.

The images showed him busy with plumbing, cleaning her bathroom, and even renovating her dorm room.

The student flashed a triumphant gesture, captioning, "A man's true appeal lies in his problem-solving skills. What's a girl to do? I'll adore Mr. Peterson, my instructor, forever."

Charlie even commented, "Then cherish me always. My love for you is eternal. While I'm here, you won't need to worry about a thing."

I calmly liked the post. Charlie finally called back, but only to say, "Apologies, I can't make it to your check-up this time. I'm tied up with something."

I gathered my things, left the untouched engagement presents, and replied coolly, "That's okay. Carry on with your tasks."

I added, "Charlie... if you're unsure what to do, don't feel obligated... And our wedding? Let's cancel it."

The doctor informed me, "Rose Jennings, bed 19. You're free to go this afternoon. Post-miscarriage, use reliable contraception for two years. Avoid spicy foods for a month. Return in four weeks to check your recovery."

She continued, "Also, you have moderate inflammation. Maintain hygiene, especially before and after intimacy with your partner."

"Understood," I replied.

The physician prescribed medication, explaining the dosage and schedule.

I listened attentively but felt disheartened.

Before leaving, I tried calling Charlie once more. After ringing endlessly, he hung up again. This wasn't the first occurrence.

Masochistically, I browsed his student's social media.

Nine photos featured him. Shirtless, he knelt to fix a blocked pipe. He diligently scrubbed Miranda Miller's toilet. He'd transformed her single room into a couple's space and moved in his luggage.

Miranda expressed her joy with an emoji, writing, "A man's true appeal lies in his problem-solving skills. What's a girl to do? I'll adore my teacher, Mr. Peterson, forever."

Charlie commented, "Then cherish me always. My love for you is eternal. While I'm here, you won't need to worry about a thing."

Her friends flooded the comments with hearts and well-wishes.

I smiled wryly. If he weren't my boyfriend, I might have congratulated them too.

What a pity.

Charlie wasn't just my partner; he was a beloved professor at the college. Miranda was among the first art students he taught after becoming dean.

Charlie's devotion to Miranda knew no bounds. Take this trip, for instance.

When the college sent Miranda for sophomore fieldwork, he worried about her accommodations. He bought a costly last-minute ticket to renovate and clean her dorm.

Previously, he fretted over her meals and sleep patterns, postponing my prenatal visit.

Ironically, while he doted on her, I lay hospitalized. I had miscarried after tripping over a scooter en route to my solo prenatal check-up.