Suddenly, like a burst of sunlight piercing through storm clouds, her brother Dummy emerged from the throng. Her heart raced with affection, and she longed to envelop him in a tight, lingering embrace—one brimming with the warmth and passion she had carried across the miles. Yet, uncertainty held her back; she feared that such an overt display might make him uncomfortable. Instead, they settled for a handshake, both bittersweet and electrifying, a connection that felt both intimate and tentative.
As she stared at him, Annette couldn't help but do a double take—this was not the small boy she had left behind, but a towering figure bursting with the kind of energetic vitality that made you wonder if he had been chugging espresso shots for breakfast. Dummy had morphed into a vibrant young man, radiating an infectious enthusiasm that could probably power a small city. His broad shoulders and confident swagger spoke of resilience, as if he had taken life's challenges and turned them into a personal gym routine.
He wasn't just her brother; he was the embodiment of home itself—a well-timed hug waiting to happen. In that moment, Annette realized that home isn't just a place with walls and a roof; it's the warm, slightly awkward embrace of someone who knows your quirks better than you do. Dummy was her soulmate, the anchor to her wandering spirit—a goofball who somehow made everything feel right, even if he occasionally forgot to put socks on before running outside. Together, they were an unstoppable duo, a perfect blend of chaos and comfort, ready to take on the world, one laugh at a time.
Before her departure two years ago, Annette found herself enveloped in an emotional storm, one that left her feeling lost and desperate. It was during this pivotal moment that her brother, Dummy, stepped in as a pillar of support. Understanding the precarious situation she was in, Dummy took the initiative to ensure that Annette could pursue her dreams without the overwhelming emotional weight of motherhood holding her back. He chose to take her child to his father, knowing that if Annette attempted to do so herself, Kinuthia would undoubtedly refuse, crushing her aspirations and leaving her dreams in ruins.
The choice to part with her child, even for a short while, felt like a dagger to Annette's heart. Each moment away was laced with an agonizing sense of guilt and heartache, an emotional tug-of-war that played out within her. The love she felt for her child was an unbreakable bond, and the prospect of being separated, however necessary, tore at the very fabric of her being. Yet, deep down, she recognized this was a critical step she had to take; it was a bittersweet sacrifice she was willing to make for a shot at a future unburdened by Kinuthia's grasp.
As Annette prepared to leave, she wrestled with the fear of the unknown, feeling as if she were leaving a part of herself behind. But unbeknownst to her, the anguish would soon deepen as secrets about Kinuthia unfurled before her like a dark storm cloud. The truth of his disloyalty cut her to the core. His reckless disregard for their family—having multiple affairs and fathering children with two different women—was a betrayal that struck her with the force of a tempest. Each revelation felt like a cruel slap in the face, an assault on everything she had believed in.
This realization shattered her trust and left her heart in tatters, as if each broken piece echoed the dreams she thought were within reach. The emotional turmoil was relentless; sorrow swallowed her whole, and it seemed as if the hope she had clung to was slowly suffocating. As she struggled to comprehend the extent of Kinuthia's betrayals, Annette was consumed by a profound sense of grief, not just for the love she had lost, but for the dreams that now seemed unbearably distant.
Yet, even amid this sea of despair, Dummy's unwavering support became her anchor. He stood by her side, reminding her of her strength and the dreams she had not yet relinquished. In her darkest hours, it was his belief in her potential that ignited a flicker of hope within Annette. She realized that she had two choices: she could allow the heartache to define her, or she could rise from the ashes of betrayal.
As she began to navigate this tumultuous journey, the scars of Kinuthia's betrayal would undeniably remain. But within her, a newfound resilience emerged, fueled by her desire to reclaim her identity and her dreams. Annette understood that the road ahead would be wrought with challenges; however, guided by her brother's steadfast confidence and her own determination, she was prepared to confront the shadows of her past and pave a brighter path toward her future.
The most lamentable aspect is that these revelations were disclosed to her only after she had already given birth to his son. She regretted that if Kinuthia's misconduct had been revealed to her earlier, she could have extricated herself from the situation and avoided the considerable turmoil of becoming pregnant by him. Unfortunately, it was too late for such reflections; one cannot lament over spilt milk. A resolution must be sought.
When she was two months pregnant, Annette's mother, accompanied by her elderly friend, went to visit Kinuthia at his residence to compel him to accept responsibility for her daughter's pregnancy. Surprisingly, Kinuthia asserted that he was already engaged to a woman who was working in Qatar, asserting that he would only be accountable for Annette's basic needs—such as rent, food, and medical expenses—while they would have to live separately. He expressed no intention of cohabitating with her.
His words left Annette's mother utterly speechless. She never anticipated that her daughter would consider being quickened as a viable option, especially since he insisted there was a primary choice available. Annette toiled on the coffee plantation even throughout the rainy seasons, striving to fulfill her needs entirely, as the financial support she received was woefully inadequate. This situation led her to harbor troubling thoughts about terminating the pregnancy. Unfortunately or perhaps fortuitously, she lacked the funds to pursue an abortion, rendering her left with no alternative but to endure the new life burgeoning within her.
She found herself standing in the coffee plantation, fending off exhaustion like a warrior in battle, her legs protesting in such a dramatic fashion that they seemed to swell into cartoonish caricatures of their former selves. Picture this: a young woman, sweat trickling down her brow, juggling coffee beans like they were grenades, determined to keep moving despite the throbbing in her muscles. "Just a few more beans," she whispered to herself, channeling her inner superhero, even though her legs felt like overcooked spaghetti.
As if her life were a bizarre soap opera, things took a turn when her parents decided to split, trading in their "happily ever after" for two separate, chaotic plotlines. For her, it was like living in a sitcom where the characters forgot their lines. With a twist worthy of a daytime drama, her dad found love again and added more kids to the mix, each one a loud reminder of his fresh start—even while she was stuck navigating the plot of her own challenging reality.
Then came the bombshell: Daddy dearest discovered his beloved, firstborn daughter was pregnant—oh, the scandal! It was as if she had paraded through town wearing a neon sign that read, "I made a questionable life choice!" In that moment, the look in his eyes could have curdled milk. She could practically hear the dramatic music playing in the background.
"You know what?" he declared with disappointment etched into his every word. "You should go stay with your mother. I can at least spare her the sight of you and that misconduct man's mess." And just like that, he cut off her allowance as if it were a bad habit—bam! No more coffee money for her!
"Fantastic!" she thought sarcastically, rolling her eyes. Because obviously, the owner of the pregnancy (which was totally *not* her fault, thank you very much) should be equipped with a treasure chest of wisdom on how to navigate her life, seeing as they were both in such a jam.
And so she trudged on, coffee beans in hand, shaking her head at the ridiculousness of it all—the absurdity of her situation making her laugh even when the world felt unsteady. After all, what could be funnier than a hero forged in the fires of family madness, coffee, and a whole lot of unwanted drama?
Annette's relationship with her stepmother was fraught with tension; she could never rely on her for kindness or support. Instead, she sensed a grim satisfaction in her stepmother at Annette's misfortunes. On the flip side, her own mother was ensnared in a toxic cycle, repeatedly marrying men who brought domestic violence into their lives. Faced with no other options, Annette decided to rent a cheap, rundown house in hopes of finding some semblance of stability.
One of her coworkers from the coffee plantation, a kind-hearted individual, gifted her a mattress. Yet, this mattress was in a state of distress, its fabric shredded and springs jutting out like broken bones, a pitiful reminder of her struggles. Every night spent on it felt like a silent battle against the aches that permeated her body and the loneliness that enveloped her heart, echoing back her despair. Her mother had offered a wool blanket and a few battered utensils, but little else. In a desperate attempt to improve her situation, Annette used her meager savings to buy a gas cooker.
Financially strapped, she could scarcely save enough money for transport to college. Instead, every penny was allocated to essentials: food, clinic expenses, and the necessities for her unborn child. Kinuthia, the father of her baby, contributed reluctantly and only when compelled to do so. This unwillingness buried a heavy weight in Annette's heart, silencing her pleas for help as she feared they might only bind him further in reluctant compassion.
Eating healthily felt like a distant dream for Annette, weighed down by her tight budget and the desperate circumstances surrounding her. Each day, she found herself facing a soggy mass of tasteless mush, meals that clumped together like wet paper left out in the rain. The sheer blandness of her food mirrored the starkness of her reality, intensifying her feelings of despair.
As a mother-to-be, the thought of nourishing the tiny life growing inside her made her heart ache even more. It wasn't just about her anymore; it was about giving her baby the best start possible, despite her limitations. Her own mother, a coffee worker struggling to make ends meet, offered little in the way of support, leaving Annette to grapple with a profound sense of loneliness and hopelessness.
Every meager portion she consumed echoed her fears of inadequacy, as she wished fervently for the ability to provide more—more nutrition, more love, and more stability. Each bite felt heavy with the weight of her circumstances, and her longing for a brighter future for her child only added to her emotional burden. In those quiet moments, the clash of hope and despair waged a relentless battle within her, leaving her both weary and resilient in her quest for a better life.
Despite the bleakness of her situation, Annette held onto a thread of hope. Her favorite K-pop band, BTS, had recently launched a song called "Life Goes On," which resonated deeply with her struggles. It was a reminder that, even amidst the turmoil, life must persist.
The long-awaited day in her life finally arrived. The air was thick with an electric stillness, a heavy anticipation that made her feel hyper-aware. Pain surged through her body like waves, fierce and relentless, as time seemed to stretch – minutes felt like hours. Sweat trickled down her skin, and she breathed in ragged gasps, her world narrowing to just the ache, the effort, and the primal instinct of life fighting to emerge. Fear and hope clashed inside her, her heart pounding with both desperation and wonder. And then, after the final struggle between strength and surrender, came the cry – thin and sharp – splitting the air with the first breath of a new life.
"His name will be Asta," Annette declared with a triumphant smile as the tiny bundle was gently placed on her chest, a moment of undeniable magic that confirmed her suspicions—it was a boy! Inspired by her favorite character from the "Black Clover" series, Asta was a remarkable young lad who defied the odds; he was a boy born without magic in a world brimming with it. Just like his fictional counterpart, Annette hoped her Asta would be ambitious, fearless, and determined to carve his own path—maybe even join a ragtag team of misfits, like the Black Bulls!
With a sprinkle of good fortune and a dash of community spirit, Annette pooled her modest savings with the help of her mother and a neighbor who had a knack for thrift shopping. Together, they managed to gather an adorable collection of onesies and baby essentials that would make any nursery look like it had been styled by a professional.
Choosing to keep Kinuthia in the dark about Asta's arrival initially seemed wise; after all, he appeared utterly unfazed by the fact that he had a child! But when she finally broke the news to him, Kinuthia's reaction was nothing short of delightful. His eyes lit up, and in a burst of excitement, he presented her with a dressed chicken—yes, a chicken—like some kind of poultry-based congratulatory gift. She chuckled at the unexpected gesture, realizing that perhaps he really was overjoyed at the prospect of fatherhood.
However, the bubbling joy was tinged with uncertainty. Annette knew that while Asta would be adored by his father, she couldn't shake the feeling of isolation. Kinuthia was engaged to his fiancée, who was set to return from Qatar in just a few months. Gossip swirled like autumn leaves, and Annette didn't want to sow discord in their lives. Co-parenting by any means would only complicate matters and was not in her plans.
And then came the inevitable heart-wrenching decision. With her finances tighter than a drum, she reluctantly decided that Asta might have to stay behind. Though it felt like leaving a part of herself, she resolved to venture out into the world, hunting for fortune and creating a brighter future—for both herself and her little Asta. After all, she could already hear the echoes of his adventurous spirit calling her to be more than just a mother—she would be a warrior in her own right
A fortnight after settling in, Annette decided it was time to embrace her painful past. She texted Kinuthia, asking him to bring Asta to her since he had a car. He rudely requested that she send him money for fuel, claiming the car was out of gas and that he was broke. She sensed he was trying to manipulate her, thinking she was foolish enough to waste her money on him.
As Annette drove her car, she exuded quiet confidence. One hand rested lightly on the wheel while the other effortlessly brushed the gear shift, her movements smooth and deliberate. It was a perfect balance of control and elegance, as if the car responded not just to commands, but to her instincts. With the open road ahead and the world slipping by in a graceful blur, she transformed driving into an art form—effortless, composed, and undeniably refined. Her car, with its open roof, sculpted lines, and luxurious leather interior, radiated modern elegance. Every detail—from its muted metallic finish to its sleek digital cockpit—spoke of refined power and effortless style.
Her heart overflowed with joy at the thought of finally reuniting with her beloved son after what felt like an eternity apart. On her way, she stopped at a florist and picked out beautiful flowers, their colors bright as the morning sun. "I hope Asta will like them," she thought aloud.