Kismet (Namjin Mpreg)

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-One:

Flashback:

It's been two weeks that we have left and I can't seem to find work. School is nearing and if I don't find a job that can help me find a home, and be able to pay for their things, I don't think I can send them off to have an education.

Jungkook seems persistent that I will find a job, despite the decline of meetings when employers see my belly. It had never occurred to me that being pregnant while I am man, would affect me. It purely went over my mind since I was verily showing, and that it is, I find it real hard to land any jobs that could help me sustain my family.

Today I got two interviews and the managers where fine, until they saw my belly and said that having me would be bad business. They knew how good of a resume I have, but since a pregnant male is rare, people won't want to buy from their restaurants or buy there in particular.

I'm frustrated at this bullshit. It doesn't matter that I am male, what matters is that I can work for them and help their restaurant. I was so stressed last week that I almost forgot that it was Jungkook's birthday. Luckily, I found a bakery near me , and I can at least buy him a couple of cup cakes. It's hard to admit that I can't even afford to buy him a cake.

The door chimes when I open the door. The smell of dough and sweet chocolate hits my nostrils. I smile, the aura of the restaurant making me warm inside. I scan the room, my eyes landing on the cupcakes in display. With not much energy in me, I make myself go to the cupcakes so that I can at least buy one for each of us.

"Hello, dear, are you looking for anything in particular?" I look up, startle, at pretty old age women that looks to be around sixty. She smiles at me, her features sending a familiarity vibe to my bones.

"I want three cupcakes. How much do they cost?" I hope they are not expensive and I can't at least buy them.

"Three cupcakes are ten dollars but with a handsome man like you, I'll leave it at five. Are you 25 weeks pregnant?" She asks me with a warm tone, her delicate, bony hands, putting the three cupcakes into a small decorative box.

"Yes. Thank you so much," I thank her. I take a five dollar bill from my wallet and give it to her. I exchange the bill for the cupcakes.

"How, lovely. It's astonishing to see a male pregnant. How is life treating you dear? Would you like a cup of hot chocolate, my daughter just made it." She asks with a thick accent. Her small eyes send of gentleness, sincerity, love, warmth. With her, I can feel myself relax. I don't have to worry about someone wanting to hit my unborn child because it's an 'abomination'.

The elderly woman guides me to the table next to a wall that has a picture of a three story cake with two happy little figurine couples at the top. I sit next to the wall while the woman sits opposite of me. A few seconds later the daughter appears with the hot chocolate, her apron filled with sugar all around it.

"Thank you." I bow down to her as she hands me the mug with hot chocolate. I sit the mug down and help the daughter give the mug to the elderly woman. "Thank you, Amelia." The daughter replies to her in Spanish, I believe, and then retrieves back to the back room.

"Thanks for the hot chocolate... and for the cupcakes. To answer your question, I left my hometown in L.A. because the grandfather of my baby made me leave, but at the same time, I left because I didn't want the father to know the existent of his kid, and now I can't find a job and a home," I tell her with deep feelings of regret.

"May I ask why you don't want the father to know? Are you afraid he might reject the child?" She asks with curiosity. I shake my head, taking the mug into my lips, and drinking the liquid. It tastes so heavenly.