We met at the farmers market, where I was selling vegetables from my family’s small garden. He bought cucumbers he probably didn’t need just to talk to me. And I, young and desperate for something beyond the endless sameness of small-town life, fell for him immediately. For three months, we were inseparable.

When I told him I was pregnant, his face transformed with pure, undiluted joy.

“I’ll go home tomorrow,” he said, holding both my hands. “I’ll talk to my parents, get their blessing, and come back for you. We’ll get married. We’ll raise our baby together.”

“You promise?”

“I promise. I’ll be back in three days. Four at most.”