CHAPTER 200: WAIT... YOU’RE GAY?

"Wait," Mr. Donald scoffed, his eyes narrowing as he stared at Augustine, baffled and visibly shaken. "So... so are you saying that this..."

His voice faltered, trailing off into the thick tension that now wrapped around them like smoke.

Mr. Donald lips parted as though he wanted to continue, but the words simply refused to leave his mouth.

Instead, he looked from Charles to Augustine, a flicker of disbelief clouding his expression.

Scoffed!

Mr. Donald scoffed as he was completely baffled.

"Let’s go inside first, we’ll discuss later," Mr. Donald said firmly, his voice clipped as he turned away without waiting for a response. "Son, come on."

Charles followed behind, his steps small and hesitant, eyes fixed on the floor as he nervously picked at his fingernails.

Augustine quickly closed the distance, slipping beside Charles and gently grabbing his hand.

Leaning close to Charles’s ear, Augustine whispered, "I’m right here, pookie... no matter what happens."

"Is... is your dad upset?" Augustine whispered softly, his breath brushing against Charles’s ear.

Charles sighed deeply, biting down on his lower lip as he exhaled. "I don’t know," he murmured, his voice barely audible, laced with uncertainty.

"I’m sorry."

"Huh? Why are you sorry?" Charles asked, narrowing his eyes slightly as he noticed the shift in Augustine’s demeanor.

Augustine exhaled slowly, his voice barely a whisper. "Because I feel like I’m the reason your dad is upset," he murmured. "The last thing I want is to ruin the bond you have with him."

"I don’t think my relationship with my dad would be ruined. I just..."

Once more, the words of Charles trailed off as he just find it hard to complete his phrase.

They both stepped into the sitting room, and as Augustine quietly shut the door behind them, Mr. Donald let out a deep sigh before walking over to the couch.

He crouched beside the sleeping woman, gently leaning in and brushing a hand over her shoulder.

"Honey," Mr. Donald purred softly, "your son is here." His voice held a mix of warmth and hesitation as he nudged her lightly.

"Hmm," she purred drowsily, snuggling deeper into the soft pillow beneath her head.

"Honey, Charles is here," Mr. Donald repeated, his tone more persistent as he shook her shoulder a little more firmly.

She hissed under her breath, her brows furrowing as she slowly adjusted to the brightness of the sitting room, squinting her eyes against the light.

Mrs. Donald was dressed in a loose, purple, flowery gown, her short golden hair messily cascading over her face.

With a frown tugging at her features, she stared at her husband and muttered in a sleepy tone, "Why did you wake me up?"

"Our son is here, honey." He stated.

"Ou.... Our son?" She purred as she slowly opened her wide open.

The moment Mrs. Donald’s eyes fully opened, they landed on Charles, who stood not too far from the couch with a nervous smile tugging at his lips.

"Cha... Charles!" she gasped, instantly sitting upright and spreading her arms wide.

Charles rushed into them, sinking into the warmth of her embrace.

Charles wrapped his arms tightly around his mother, his head resting gently on her shoulders. "Mom, I’ve missed you so, so much," he purred, breathing in the familiar scent of her skin.

"Oh, my son," Mrs. Donald murmured, her voice soft with emotion as she caressed his back, "I’ve missed you even more."

Seconds later, they pulled apart, and Mrs. Donald locked eyes with her son, staring at him with such intensity it made the air still.

A full minute passed before she finally exhaled—a long, drawn-out sigh that hinted at both love and slight frustration.

"Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?" she began, her brows furrowed and lips slightly pursed. "I would’ve cooked your favorite dishes, set the table like royalty, and maybe even invited the neighbors for a little celebration. You know how I like to show off my son."

Charles chuckled softly at his mother’s concern. "I actually planned on giving you a heads-up because I know you love making a huge feast whenever I come over," he said with a playful grin. "But, umm... something came up, and I just decided to surprise you with a visit."

Mrs. Donald shot up from the couch, her eyes widening in alarm. "Huh? Something came up? Are... are you in any form of danger?" She asked, her voice laced with worry, as she quickly lifted the squatting Charles from the floor.

Charles shook his head with a warm smile, his mother’s eyes scanning his every move, as if looking for any sign of trouble.

"Mom! I’m totally fine, okay?" Charles whispered, gently placing his hands on her shoulders to stop her frantic pacing.

Mrs. Donald’s worried questions tumbled out, her voice thick with concern. "Di... did something bad happen to you? Have your eye issues started again? Do you want me to take you to the doctor—"

This time, before Mrs. Donald could finish her sentence, Charles quickly cut her off. "Mom, I brought my boyfriend with me to pay you a visit," Charles blurted out, his words taking his mother completely off guard.

In an instant, she froze, her eyes widening. "Yo... your girlfriend, right?" she asked, trying to sound casual but clearly struggling to hide the shock in her voice.

Charles swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest, as he stretched his hand toward Augustine, who remained eerily silent, his eyes locked on Charles with an unreadable expression.

Augustine, sensing the weight of the moment, stepped forward, his fingers closing around Charles’s hand, grounding him.

With a quiet but firm voice, Charles suddenly speak up, "Mom, I’m gay. And this is my boyfriend, Augustine Wales."

Silence...

The words hung in the air, charged with tension, as Mrs. Donald’s gaze flickered between the two men, her breath catching in her throat.

"Yo... you... wait... you’re gay?" She purred, her voice dripping with disbelief as she stared at Charles, her face contorting in confusion, her expression a mixture of shock and confusion.