Chapter 139: Gay people are mentally disturbed.
The blaring sirens of the ambulance pierced through the night, accompanied by the frantic murmurs of onlookers gathered around the scene.
Amidst the growing crowd lay a young man, barely conscious, fighting for his life beneath the chaos.
He was drenched in a pool of blood, his body trapped beneath the wreckage of the overturned car.
Amid the chaos, the ambulance crew worked with urgency, forcing open the twisted metal to pull him out.
Once freed, they wasted no time—rushing the unconscious young man into the ambulance and speeding off toward the hospital, sirens slicing through the night air.
Augustine’s gaze remained fixed on the car’s ceiling as he was carried toward the ambulance.
His life flashed before his eyes in scattered fragments, and though voices called out to him, every question thrown his way sounded distant—muted, as if underwater.
’So this is it? This is how it feels when someone is about to lose their life?’ he wondered, a sharp sting piercing his chest.
’I regret not meeting Charles sooner... I regret not making him confess his love to me while there was still time.’
Even in the face of death, Augustine’s mind clung to thoughts of Charles, drowning in the weight of unspoken emotions and missed chances.
He thought about how he was going to miss doing fun things with Charles... the laughter, the late-night talks, the quiet moments that spoke louder than words.
Augustine’s eyelids grew heavier with each passing second, and before he knew it, they slipped shut, dragging him into a darkness he never wanted to enter.
"Sir! Wake up!"
"Hand me the oxygen mask!"
"Sir, can you hear me?"
"Check his heart rate!"
Augustine could hear the distant cries of medical personnel working frantically around him.
At first, their voices were muffled, lost in the haze of pain and fear. But now, with his eyes closed and the darkness fully embracing him, their whispers grew clearer—echoes calling him back.
Still, Augustine felt trapped.
His mind screamed for him to respond, but his body betrayed him. His lips wouldn’t part, his voice wouldn’t rise. He was a prisoner in his own silence.
He was rushed out of the ambulance the moment it arrived at the hospital, and without wasting a second, Augustine was wheeled straight into the emergency room.
Doctors surrounded him in a frenzy, each one focused on reviving the barely breathing man beneath their hands.
***
Mrs. Wales’s face twisted into a scowl as she stared down at her phone, clearly displeased with how the call had ended.
"I hate the fact that I gave birth to a brat," she seethed, her voice sharp with disdain as she glanced at her husband sitting silently at the far end of the dining room.
He scoffed. "You should be more careful with the way you talk about our son, okay? Don’t keep pushing him further away," he said calmly, trying to reason with his wife.
Mr. Wales knew all too well—Augustine would rather confide in him than exchange even a few words with his mother.
She sighed, rising from the couch. "What still baffles me is how you’re not the least bit upset about his gay marriage," she said, her tone laced with frustration as she walked over to the dining room, closing the distance between herself and her husband.
Mr. Wales averted his gaze to his wife for a brief moment. "Whatever Augustine’s sexuality may be, he’s still our son. Our only son. And instead of making him feel comfortable, we’re doing the opposite. That’s not right."
Mrs. Wales snarled, her voice dripping with disdain. "You’re unbelievable. We should be teaching him to be a man. As his parents, it’s our responsibility to get him into therapy so he can snap out of this gay fantasy." she coldly stated. "Besides, gay people are mentally disturbed. We need to help our son before it’s too late." She added, sitting down heavily at the dining chair.
Even as Mrs. Wales tried to persuade her husband to share her disdain for Augustine’s sexuality, Mr. Wales remained unshaken.
He loved his son deeply and had no intention of turning his back on him.
To him, the only thing that mattered was Augustine’s happiness, and he would support him in whatever path he chose.
"Hubby, are you even aware that Augustine is married to a handsome young man who adores him? Shouldn’t that bring you some relief?"
Mrs. Wales rolled her eyes, the disappointment in her gaze sharp. "I... I can’t let this go. I need to call Augustine. Warn him about that lowlife peasant he’s foolishly calling his husband and I also believe that peasant is behind the image from the projector."
Before Mr. Wales could protest his wife’s request, she was already dialing Augustine’s number. She half-expected him to ignore the call, as he always did whenever he was angry with her.
But still, she waited, hoping this time would be different.
To Mrs. Wales’s surprise, the call connected after just one ring. "Well, this is a surprise... I didn’t think you’d actually—"
"Hello? Is this the guardian mother?" A nurse’s voice cut through, sounding professional yet oddly detached.
The nurse had noticed the contact name saved as "Mom with love," which gave her a moment of hesitation.
Mrs. Wales promptly nodded. "Umm, Yes... who are you?"
"I’m Nurse Bridget," the voice on the other end of the line was steady but carried an undeniable urgency. "Your son was involved in a serious accident. He’s in critical condition. Please come to the City General Hospital as soon as possible."
The words hit Mrs. Wales like a cold, suffocating wave.
Her breath caught in her throat, and for a moment, the world around her stood still, her body frozen in place as though time had stopped.
The phone slipped from her grasp, clattering onto the table as panic began to claw its way through her chest.
The words didn’t seem real—Augustine, her son, in danger? No, it couldn’t be.