I explained, "I can't eat spicy food. You guys can enjoy your meal slowly."
When our eyes met, Charlie's grip on my arm tightened bit by bit and caused a sharp pain on it.
Miranda raised to her feet apprehensively and said, "Mr. Peterson, it's normal for Miss Jennings to be emotional. After all, she is pregnant. Maybe because I'm here she feels uncomfortable. I should be leaving now."
Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. She seemed to suffer some grievance.
Charlie released my arm abruptly and turned to comfort her, "Why should you leave? It's her problem, not yours."
Only after a long moment did he look back at me, his expression hard as he said, "Can you just calm down for once? Do you have to ruin every meal?”
Then he grumbled, "I didn’t even know you couldn’t eat spicy food. Since when? Other pregnant women can handle it. Why can’t you? Are you lying?”
"That's because I had just a miscarriage …."
I instinctively tried to defend myself, but he waved a hand impatiently to cut off my words.
"Enough!" he interjected. If you’re not eating, just go for a walk and let us enjoy our meal in peace, alright?”
He sat back down again. His focus once again returned to peeling shrimp for the girl sitting next to him. Then he cautioned her with a soft voice, "Slow down or you'll choke."
I bit my lips. I caught the taunting look that Miranda gave me.
I grabbed my bag and stormed out of the house. I wandered into some random restaurant and ate something.
When I got home, I stood outside the door and my legs were as heavy as lead and I could not move at all. From inside the house, I could hear the laughter and the hum of a hairdryer sounded. Charlie must be drying the girl's hair again.
The engagement ring that circled the ring finger of my left hand suddenly sparkled and the light hurt my eyes.
The winter wind was bitterly cold and it turned my hands red.
I slid the ring off my finger and tossed it into the trash bin near the door. My gaze shifted to the engagement cutouts we’d painstakingly made together two years ago. With one swift motion, I tore them down.
If my earlier thoughts had been driven by emotion, now I understood clearly what was inside my heart. I was done loving Charlie and I did not want to marry him anymore.
After I stood in the blowing icy wind to clear my head, I finally keyed in the passcode to enter the apartment. However, the door would not open because it had been locked from the inside.
Frustrated, I banged on the door.
However, either my knocking sound was drowned out by the sound of the hairdryer or swallowed by Miranda's happy laughter, but no one came to open the door for me.
I squatted by the door, my legs eventually going numb. It was not until midnight the door finally opened.
Miranda gasped and covered her mouth in surprise when she saw me. "Miss Jennings! When did you get back?"
Charlie's eyes lingered on my pale face before he spoke, his tone laced with annoyance, “If you were back, why didn’t you just come in? Was there any reason for you sitting out here like this? Could this act of yours somehow make you feel better?”
My voice was hoarse as I walked past them, "The door was locked. I couldn’t get in.”
The odor of their reunion that stuck with them disgusted me. I ignored the fleeting guilt that crossed Charlie’s face and heard him say softly, “I’ll take Miranda home first. It’s late and it’s not safe for her to be out alone.”
I passed care and only hummed indifferently before heading straight to the second floor. All I wanted was a hot shower to warm my body and the comfort of my bed for a good night's sleep.
I was also too exhausted to dwell on the fact that Charlie was worried about Miranda’s safety but didn’t seem to care about his wife being in danger if she came late at night.
Nor did I have the energy to question what Charlie and Miranda did in the apartment, why the door had been locked, why they had been showering and drying hair together, or why their scents clung to each other.
Actually, the relationship between me and Charlie had never been like this before.
