CHAPTER 201: I CAN’T ALLOW YOU BOTH TO BE TOGETHER.

Charles nervously nod his head.

Gasped!

Mrs. Donald gasped, her hand instinctively flying to her chest as she turned sharply toward her husband. "Honey, are... are you hearing the words of Charles?" she whispered, her voice trembling with restrained emotion.

Mr. Donald let out a deep sigh, his expression unreadable as he nodded slowly. "He told me outside a few minutes ago," he muttered, casting a brief glance at Charles. "But I... I refused to believe it."

Sigh!

Mrs. Donald bit her lower lip, sighing deeply as a small smile threatened to betray the frown she struggled to maintain.

She swallowed hard, then strolled over to her husband and stretched out her palm.

Leaning close, she purred softly into his ear, "You have to pay up... I won the bet."

Although Mrs. Donald tried to make her words barely audible, both Charles and Augustine caught them loud and clear.

"B-Bet?" Charles stuttered, eyebrows shooting up in disbelief.

The question of Charles was all it took for Mrs. Donald, who had been fighting the urge to laugh, suddenly burst out into uncontrollable laughter.

She clutched her stomach with both hands, her body shaking as she tried to compose herself, but the more she looked at Charles’s confused face, the harder she laughed.

Meanwhile, Mr. Donald wore a slight frown as he stepped forward, his voice cutting through the lingering confused expression of his son and Augustine.

"You both had a long drive, so please, take a seat while I fix something nice for you."

Mr. Donald paused, then turned his gaze toward Augustine with a half-smile tugging at his lips. "Umm... my son’s boyfriend, come over to the kitchen and help me out," he added, his tone teasing yet oddly warm.

Augustine promptly nodded, his voice hitching slightly. "Umm... yeah, sure thing," he purred, stammering a little as he hurried after Mr. Donald.

He trailed behind him, heart pounding, as Mr. Donald led the way into the kitchen.

With no time wasted, Mr. Donald turned on the gas stove and placed a pot of water above the flame.

The clatter of raw rice being scooped into a bowl broke the silence as Mr. Donald moved to the sink, washing the grains with ease before pouring them into the electric rice cooker that was plugged to the wall.

"Hey, open the refrigerator and grab six eggs, some carrots, chili pepper, tomatoes, cheese, and the other ingredients for making sauce," Mr. Donald instructed with a casual air.

Without hesitation, Augustine spun around, opened the refrigerator, and began collecting the items.

One after the other, he pulled out the eggs, the bright orange carrots, the fiery red chili peppers, fragrant curry, plump tomatoes, and a block of cheese, setting them neatly on the kitchen counter like a sous-chef preparing for a culinary duel.

And then, Mr. Donald placed the eggs inside the pot of water.

"Wash the vegetables and start chopping them," Mr. Donald ordered, his tone firm but not unkind. "The rice will be ready in no time, so let’s not waste any."

Without a word, Augustine took off his suit jacket, rolled up his white long sleeve, stepped toward the sink, and began scrubbing the vegetables with steady hands, the sound of running water and the rhythm of the knife soon filling the kitchen.

"So tell me, Augustine." Mr. Donald began watching Augustine from the side who was intensely focused on chopping all the vegetables that were now laid before him. "Do you like my son?" Mr. Donald went on to question.

"Yes sir." Augustine replied immediately. "I’m madly in love with your son, Mr Donald and I hope you won’t get upset at Charles for being gay."

Following the words of Augustine, he stopped what he was doing so that he could take a proper look at mr. Donald.

"Charles told me that you and Mrs. Donald weren’t aware that he’s gay, and I... I understand that him coming out so suddenly might be shocking," Augustine said, his voice gentle as he offered a small, reassuring smile. "But Charles is still the same loving, caring man you both raised and cherished. That hasn’t changed. I know I have no right or say to anything that concerns your family, but I truly hope you can find it in your heart to accept him—for who he’s always been."

"Hahaha!" Mr. Donald erupted in laughter, his hands circling his beard as he shook his head in disbelief, clearly amused.

Augustine swallowed hard, his fingers tightening around the knife as he focused on chopping the vegetables, his gaze dropping to the board.

The tension in the air thickened, but he pressed on, unsure of how Mr. Donald would respond next.

"Hmm... hmm..." Mr. Donald purred, clearing his throat a few times, letting his laughter finally fade into the air.

Once the laughter died down, he leaned in close to Augustine, his voice lowering to a whisper. "I can see that you’re madly in love," he said, his eyes locking with Augustine’s.

Then, with a knowing smirk, he leaned back, watching for Augustine’s reaction.

Augustine’s eyes widened slightly, and he shifted uncomfortably, but Mr. Donald’s mischievous smirk only deepened.

"My wife and I made a bet some years back," Mr. Donald continued, his voice low and playful. "Charles was about eighteen at the time, and we caught him... well, let’s say he was drooling over a picture of a man in one of those male magazines."

He chuckled at the memory, clearly enjoying the moment.

Augustine froze for a second, not knowing how to respond to this unexpected revelation.

"H-Huh?" Augustine purred, his brows still tilted upwards.

Mr. Donald let out a heavy sigh, the playfulness in his voice now replaced with something more sincere.

"My wife thought he might be gay, but I refused to believe it. See, Charles isn’t just my son by blood; I’ve raised him, I know him better than anyone else." He paused, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "We never questioned him about it, though. We didn’t want to make him feel confused. No matter who my son loves, his mother and I are here to support him, always."

Augustine smile as he breath out, almost as if a weight have been lifted off from his shoulder. He felt a lump form in his throat as he looked at Mr. Donald, finally understanding the depth of his acceptance.

Mr. Donald sighed, taking a few steps away from Augustine. "Although, I’ve always said I’ll support whoever my son likes... but I can’t allow Charles to be with you, Augustine," he said, his voice firm. "I don’t like your family, so you both can’t work out." Mr. Donald’s spat coldly, his words hitting Augustine like a bomb, leaving him momentarily stunned.