Hoe for Hosie

The Land of the Rising Sun

Josie's PoV

It has been two weeks since I left my hometown of Mystic Falls, two weeks since my father disowned me, and two weeks since I found myself wandering the streets of Tokyo, unsure of where to go.

It has also been two weeks since I left her behind.

I don't know what to do anymore.

My savings are dwindling, not enough to stay in a hotel for long, and I need to eat, especially now that I'm pregnant.

The other mother of my baby has no idea I'm carrying her child.

I wish she were here with me, but I know it's impossible. Her family despises me because of my background, and truth be told, I don't blame them.

We come from a broken family—my father, a retired teacher, perpetually drunk; my mother long gone, unable to endure my father's abuse; and my twin sister Lizzie, working as an employee in a small company.

Lizzie and I hardly speak since she moved in with Mg, her fiancé.

As for me, I worked as a baker at one of Mikaelson Company's French bakeries. Baking has always been integral to my life since childhood. It taught me precision—calculating portions to enhance flavor, akin to solving a mathematical equation. Baking also taught me patience and the importance of following directions meticulously.

My mother used to say baking relieves stress, enhances concentration, and boosts self-confidence—something I've always struggled with.

I often wonder why Hope loves me at all.

I love Hope as deeply as I love baking. She boosts my confidence with her love for my creations, especially my specialty, beignets—her favorite.

We met in her family's bakery. She rushed in, preoccupied with a phone argument, and collided with me, sending us both tumbling. She missed closing time, opting instead to rush me to the hospital.

I passed out not just from the fall, but from exhaustion.

From that night on, she waited for me after work, checking in on me and requesting batches of beignets. We'd share them in a park with coffee she brought.

She'd vent about the burdens of being an heiress and her disdain for her family's expectations—like arranged marriages among the wealthy. I offered advice, but now I feel nauseous thinking about it.

Yet here I am in Japan, wandering the cold streets with a child in tow.

Months passed as friends and coffee mates before Hope confessed her feelings. I'd have been foolish to deny mine. We dated for a year and a half before deciding to reveal our relationship to our families. Hope wanted to stop hiding the woman she loved.

It was a grave mistake.

Her father grounded her upon discovering his daughter was dating an ordinary baker from their chain. He called me slut and offered money to keep me away from her.

Hope found ways for us to meet in secret, sneaking into my room at night to avoid her family's scrutiny. They stopped grounding her, but pressured her relentlessly to end things with me.

But my girlfriend's resolve matches her stubbornness.

•••

Flashback:

Josie's PoV

I was immersed in one of the Harry Potter books Hope had given me for my birthday when I heard a soft knock at my window.