CHAPTER 202: I LOVE YOUR SON.

S-sir!" Augustine purred, stuttering as confusion filled his eyes.

He had assumed Mr. Donald’s concern would be about Charles being gay—not about him. "Umm, sir... if you don’t mind me asking, do you know my family?"

Mr. Donald scoffed, rolling his eyes as he collected the knife from Augustine’s hand. "I know about you, Augustine Wales," he began, slicing through the vegetables without sparing him a glance. "I may be old, but that doesn’t mean I don’t keep up with trends online. I’ve seen you countless times on national television. Your face has been imprinted in my memory."

Augustine sighed as he swallowed hard. "I... I don’t even know where to start from," he admitted, exhaling heavily. "But Mr. Donald, despite being a public figure, I believe you know I’ve always been true to myself and... and I do my best to handle things the right way."

Mr. Donald scoffed, grabbing a spoon as he began to scoop the eggs from the pot.

He reached for a pan, removed the pot from the gas stove, and placed the pan over the flame.

"The last time you showed up on national television," he began, his voice laced with disdain, "I watched how you brushed off that picture of you and that male model with such fake nonchalance. You tried to fool the public with your little act, but not everyone bought into that ridiculous excuse you gave that night."

He paused for a moment, reaching for the bottle of oil and pouring a reasonable amount into the pan.

"Now that I’ve come to realize my son is dating you," Mr. Donald began, his tone calm yet calculated, "it almost feels like he was the one in that picture on national television—the one with the blurred face."

He nodded slowly, as if affirming the theory to himself. "It all makes sense now."

"Yes sir," Augustine whispered, his gaze fixed on the ground. "I... I didn’t mean to deny the relationship between Charles and I in public. Umm, I acted... I acted without considering how Charles would feel."

That day, during the launch of Augustine’s clothing designs, he had thought about Charles but in the end, he chose the image of his company over their love, convincing himself that Charles would understand if he explain things properly to Charles.

Mr. Donald scoffed as he began stirring the vegetables sizzling in the pan. "I’m glad you’re admitting your fault. Not all youngsters do that these days," he mumbled.

He drew in a deep breath, his hand pausing mid-stir as he turned his gaze from the pan to Augustine. "I want to ask you one question," he said firmly.

Augustine nodded, his posture straightening, ears perked as he braced himself for whatever was coming next.

"So, Augustine," Mr. Donald said, his eyes narrowing slightly, "if Charles was the one who had denied you in front of the whole wide world, how would you have reacted? Would you have forgiven him?"

"Yes, sir," Augustine replied boldly without hesitation. "I wouldn’t forgive Charles right away, because it hurts deeply to see your partner deny you. Especially on a live event, broadcasted for the entire world to see," Augustine explained, his voice calm but filled with conviction.

He stare at the floor, gulped a mouthful of saliva before continuing his phrase.

"If I were in Charles’s shoes, I would’ve broken up with him and that’s exactly how anyone truly in love would react. Denying your partner publicly... it’s like saying you’re ashamed of them."

"Very good, then," Mr. Donald purred, turning around to grab some frozen chicken from the refrigerator, his expression unreadable.

He washed the chicken thoroughly in the kitchen sink as Augustine watched silently.

Mr. Donald moved with practiced ease—cooking the rice, slicing the chicken into pieces, boiling it until tender, then pulling out another frying pan to start frying the golden, sizzling chicken.

When Mr. Donald finished, he expertly folded the juicy chicken into the rich vegetable sauce, releasing a satisfied sigh.

Breaking the heavy silence, he asked, "Do you know how to dish meals properly?"

Augustine met Mr. Donald gaze and nodded, a hint of confidence in his voice. "Ye... yes, sir."

Swiftly, Augustine reached for the flat glass plates from the rack, carefully plating generous portions—three perfect servings laid out.

He drizzled the sauce alongside the fluffy rice on each plate, then carried the carefully arranged meals to the dining table, setting one down at the front of each chair with deliberate care.

"Honey!" Mr. Donald called from the kitchen, switching off the gas stove with a satisfied click. "Dinner’s ready — come and eat."

He walked over to the dinning room, took his seat before smiling briefly. "Sit down and let’s wait for them." He stated, his words directed at Augustine.

Augustine did as he was instructed to do and some minutes later, Charles and Mrs. Donald made their way towards the dinning that has just five chairs.

They took their seat, and dig in, eating in complete silence.

Although, Augustine felt uncomfortable as he eat because he has a lot of things that were troubling him and those things needs to be utter out loud.

Three minutes later, Augustine let out a loud breath and he kept his spoon back on the dinning table, drawing the attention of all.

Augustine pushed his plate away, all eyes locked onto him, sensing that Augustine has something to say.

"Mr. Donald, I..."

The words of Augustine trailed off as he used his hand to wipe his chin and lips. "I told you that if I was in Charles’ shoes, then I would have broken up with him, but I forgot to tell you that... even if I did break up with Charles, I’d never be at peace with myself."

"Hey babe, what are you saying?" Charles questioned in a low voice, his eyes silently pleading with Augustine, urging him to keep his mouth shut.

Nevertheless, Augustine kept on talking, ignoring the whispered question of Charles.

"I love your son, Mr. Donald," Augustine began, his voice soft yet steady. "And I honestly... I honestly don’t have any perfect excuse for what I did on the day of my company’s design launch but what I can say is... what I can say is that I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt Charles."

Augustine paused, eyes glistening with sincerity. "I didn’t intend to hurt Charles, and for that, I’ve promised Charles that I’ll be a better man... a changed person."

Augustine paused for a moment, his voice caught in his throat.

He turned his gaze to Charles, who was biting his lower lip, his eyes fixed on Augustine with a tender, tear-filled warmth that spoke volumes without a single word.

Silent tears trailed down Charles’ cheeks, yet he smiled faintly, as though Augustine’s words were slowly mending what had once been shattered.

"I’ve come out to my parents that I’m gay," Augustine continued, his voice more softer now. "And it was Charles who held me through that storm. He gave me strength when I didn’t have any. Besides, my father is the only one who accepts my sexuality. My mother..."

Augustine’s words trailed off, swallowing hard. "She hates... she hates that I’m gay. She sees it as a stain—something shameful. And I’ve carried that hurt with me ever since."

Once more, Augustine paused his statement in order to draw in a deep, long breath.

"I plan on coming out to others that I’m gay but I’m taking baby steps and... and despite that, I don’t... I don’t want you both to hate Charles just like my mother did." Augustine stated while stammering. "Charles loves and adores you both and sometimes... well, lately I have been blaming myself for being the reason Charles turns gay because if I hadn’t had seduced him... then perhaps he would be straight."

The last phrase of Augustine made it obvious that Augustine has been blaming himself about Charles sexuality.

Augustine face was now fixed to the floor as he began to cursed himself when all of a sudden, the words of Mr. Donald snapped Augustine out of his thoughts.

"Hey! What’s all this rubbish you’re yapping about?" Mr. Donald snapped with a sneer, his eyes narrowing. "You either get straight to the point or keep your mouth shut so we can eat in peace."

"Yes, sir." Augustine mumbled. "Wh... what I’m trying to say is that, regarding the question you asked me in the kitchen, I... I want you to know that I deeply regret my actions."

Augustine drew in a deep breath as he raised his gaze to meet that of Mr. Donald. "If I could go back in time, even just for a moment, I’ll undo everything that happened at the event launch without thinking twice. I’ll do that within the blink of an eye." Augustine boldly stated.

Mr. Donald scoffed, his expression hardening. "Since you can’t go back in time, then you and my son will never be together," he said coldly, his voice sharp with finality. "You can never treat my son right—I can see that just by looking at you."