3 November 2023—Day 8

With a cup of coffee in hand, I supervised Caleb as he was busy baking my famous brownies. Since he had done well in his spelling test today, I had agreed to a baking lesson. At first, I went to help him, but my nephew insisted that he wanted to do it himself... under my guidance. As I talked him through the steps, we chatted away like normal. When I asked why he chose brownies for our lesson. my heart broke when Caleb told me he was worried that I'd disappear on him again before he learned how to make his favourite treat. I held back my words to stop myself from mentioning the possibility that his worries could come true.

"Okay, the butter and chocolate are both melted," he confirmed while stirring the rich brown liquid in the double boiler. "What do I do next?"

"Using those oven mitts, you need to lift the bowl off the saucepan and place it here on this trivet," I instructed, pointing to the raised cast iron stand to the side of me. "Let me know if you need me to do it."

"Yeah nah, I got this." Caleb had complete confidence in himself. He beamed with pride as I praised him for doing a good job.

"That's actually the hardest part done. The rest is easy from here on," I said as he switched the stove element off. "Okay, now grab the eggs that we've already prepared. Remember, any time you're needing to whip eggs—particularly egg whites—it's easiest to separate them when the eggs are cold. The whites and yolks hold their shape better when cold. But they are much easier to whip when they're room temperature."

"Is that why you sometimes have bowls of egg whites on the counter when you're baking a cake?" my nephew asked as he grabbed the metal bowl and fitted it into the stand mixer like I'd shown him before.

"Yep. Air is incorporated better when egg whites aren't cold, and they tend to be more stable that way too. But today we don't need them really fluffy like we would for a pavlova; whipping the eggs in the brownies helps make them fudgy. That's my first secret." I placed my finger to my lips, playfully swearing him to secrecy about my trade secrets. Caleb grinned like the Cheshire cat as he nodded. "Into the bowl, we need to add the coffee powder, vanilla and sugar."

Caleb and I had carefully measured out each ingredient in separate bowls before he started on the first task. I had been showing my nephew the distinction between baking and cooking for some time. Unlike cooking, where you can estimate amounts or create a dish without a recipe, baking is a precise process that relies on accurate measurements and sometimes involves chemical changes in the ingredients.

"Okay..." My little baking apprentice said, drawing out the word as he poured the caster sugar into the bowl. "Do I need to mix it together first?"

I shook my head. "The mixer will do that. Now turn to knob until it reaches number 6." I raised my voice so he would hear me over the noisy stand mixer, "You're going to beat it for about five minutes or so. We'll check it then to see if it's at the ribbon stage. Do you remember what that is?"

"Is that where you can see where it's been if you pour the mixture onto itself?"

"That's right." I puffed my chest with pride that he had remembered. "With baking, you need to use your eyes more than sticking to a time frame. We will know that the eggs are ready when they're pale in colour—kind of like the colour your Dad likes his tea made."

"Weak, with a lot of milk," he giggled at the expense of Aiden's preferences.

I chuckled, nodding my head as I raised the mug to my lips. I savoured the feeling of the lukewarm coffee sliding down my throat, energising me from the inside out. "Yep, he's weak... you didn't hear me say that, though," I warned him, pointing my coffee his way before I smirked. "Anyway, when it's done, the mixture should also be nice and thick. To check that we've got it whipped enough, we'll pick some up on the whisk, draw a letter—I use an 'N' for Nell but you can use whatever letter you like—and if we can see the letter after about three seconds, then it means it's good to go. If not, we whisk a little longer."

꧁♥💜♥꧂

"So, you ready to see the girls tomorrow, Squish?" Christof asked as the two of us sat on the back deck with a glass of wine each. The half-eaten plate of brownies sat on the table between us. It was nice having time with my brother-in-law while Aiden and Caleb played Mario Cart in the lounge.

"Yeah, it will be good to see them again—like you guys, I missed them when I was away. We've been chatting in text but it's always better seeing each other in person."

"From what Bubbles has said, they've missed you too," he said, taking a sip of his red wine before he turned to put his full attention on me. "So, are you gonna tell them that same crock of shit you've told us?"

I sputtered as the strong taste of red wine burned my throat. The liquid went down the wrong way as my brother-in-law asked his question, causing me to gasp for air and reach for a napkin to wipe my mouth. Coughing like I was hacking up a lung, my blood froze at the deadpanned look on Christof's face. Was this the moment that the men in white coats swarmed in and took me away? I thought Christof and I had a good relationship. However, the doubt crept in as I noticed the slight furrow in his brow, indicating that he might have been a bit offended by my deceit.

My heart felt like it was beating out of my chest. "H-how did you know?" I whispered, unsure if I wanted to know the answer or not.

Christof sighed as he rested his hand on my knee the same way my brother and father did. "Nell, I've known you for over 15 years. You're one of my closest friends, so of course I know when you're not being completely truthful." My eyes began to well—I hated hearing the low and glum tone in Christof's voice. I could read between his words that he was disappointed that he thought I didn't trust him enough to tell him whatever I was going through. "My first clue was how each time you told us something new, you would look to Esther for confirmation. They don't say hair stylists are a type of psychotherapists for no reason," he teased.

"I'll tell you but I might need some liquid courage that's stronger than wine," I whispered, confirming his suspicions that I was hiding things from him. "Something leaning more towards Aunt Roberta than wine."

While Christof stepped away to make us some stronger drinks, I mentally prepared myself for our conversation. It was one thing telling Esther about everything. I knew she would believe me because we shared a womb—we had a very tight bond where we never kept secrets from one another. As much as I trusted Christof, part of me was terrified he would call me a liar. Or worse, that he'd have me committed for testing to see if my 'head injury' could have caused me to have confabulations that I believed to be real.

"Where is your boyfriend really?" my brother-in-law asked as he handed me a double negroni. "I know he exists by how you look into space sometimes when you think no one is looking."

Taking a sip, I winced at how strong the cocktail was. I could feel the alcohol flow through my veins, and I hoped it would settle my nerves soon. I proceeded to tell him the same thing I had told Esther the first day I had come back into this universe. I kept my eyes on my slowly decreasing glass of alcohol. I couldn't handle seeing whatever look Christof had on his face until I had told him the complete truth. I told him about being in the alternate universe, how I'd been assigned to Jimin, and even the whole Seed Bearer thing—including what would happen if I didn't fall pregnant. I spoke about Jimin's and my highs and lows together, and the lengths we'd gone to try and fake a pregnancy.

"Wow," he breathed out once I had finished. I looked over and saw that his once full glass was empty, and judging by the red cheeks, Christof had sculled it quickly. "If my bullshit metre wasn't at zero, I would swear that what you told me was the plot of a movie."

"Yeah," I whispered. The sharp taste of the cocktail hit my tongue as I tilted the glass back, finishing it in one swift gulp. The fiery burn trickled down my throat, providing a temporary relief from the ache nestled deep within my chest.

Each time I told the story of what had happened to me, I missed Jimin more and more. Not only that, but I also grew more confused about what I should do when the 25th day came. One part of me whispered to return to him, while the other insisted on remaining in the safety of my current surroundings. The conflicting thoughts tugged at my heart and left me torn between two choices.

"When do you have to have made your decision?"

I grabbed a small piece of brownie and said, "The 25th day of me being back falls on the 19th of November." Caleb had done an amazing job—there was only a tiny difference between the taste and texture of the brownies he made and mine. For a first attempt, he hit it out of the park. "One moment I think I have made up my mind of what to do, but in the next I am second-guessing and going the opposite way. What do you think I should do?"

"I think working out what your heart's deepest desire is won't be a quick or easy decision, especially if your life hangs in the balance." Christof fell silent for a moment and I knew he was gathering his thoughts. I grabbed his glass and made us a refill. The cocktails wouldn't be as good as his, but they would do.

"My advice?" He took a sip of the cocktail as soon as I gave it to him. "I think you need to take everything else out of the equation. Ask yourself which life would bring you the most happiness. Would you be happiest being here with us or being with Jimin?"

I leaned over and hugged the other man I called my brother—one by marriage, not blood. "So... You're not mad at me for not telling you everything?" I asked, testing the waters between us.

Christof laughed heartily before he turned towards me and took my hand in his. "To be honest, if you had told me—or any of the rest of the family—all of this, I would have thought you were pulling my leg." He looked off into the distance for a moment before squaring his eyes on mine. "I understand why you held off from telling me. Now that I know, though, things make more sense. Are you planning on telling your parents and Aiden?"

I must have looked like I was scared shitless by his question. My worst nightmare, apart from being separated from Jimin (which I was already living through), would be if my family didn't believe me and instead committed me to an institute.

"I think you owe them the truth, Nell." Christof's words were spoken with the volume and calm tone that you would use on a scared child or animal. "If you do end up going back to be with Jimin, it would kill everyone thinking you had disappeared again."

I nodded, taking his words in. Christof was right. My family did deserve to know the truth. I mentally apologised to Future Nell for having that conversation.

"But before that, you've gotta tell me... How was it sinking the sausage with Mr Park Jimin?"

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Day 126

Today was a nice change to how my life had been since becoming the assigned female to my Seed Bearer. For the first time in over four months, I was able to see Eomma. I had eagerly awaited her visit to the palace for months, and finally, the approval came through. It was a long process, but now she was allowed to come to see me in the grand palace.

During the lunch that she had with my Seed Bearer and me, I tried hard not to smile as she started asking him why I hadn't become pregnant yet. It was obvious that her questions made him feel a bit uncomfortable, but I didn't care. Through coded telegrams, I'd told her everything that had been transpiring between him and me. She did not let on that she knew he was withholding intercourse. Instead, she began asking what his track history with his past females was. I was done trying to figure out why he was actively negating his duties as a Seed Bearer. I hoped that my mother would be able to glean more information from him that she could pass on to me.

After the lunch, which had not provided me with any answers, I offered to show Eomma around the gardens. I knew she would love the pretty scenery, even if it was dying off from the cold weather. My other motivation for being alone with her was that it gave us the privacy to speak freely without prying ears.

"Eomma, you're telling me that Jinae has not seen nor heard from that witch in over a week?" I had finished telling her how I had set my sights on alternative Seed Bearers when she had dropped a bomb on me. While she was proud that I was expanding my options in case the man I was assigned to continued to be aloof when it came to sexual contact together, my mother worried about Jimin because of the news she had received.

"That's what I was told yesterday," Eomma said in a hushed tone. Even though we were alone, we both knew that our voices would carry amongst the quietness. "The last time any of the staff heard from that invader was six days before, which would now make today the eighth day."

"Hopefully Jimin has finally come to his senses and has gotten her removed," I mused. A smile graced my lips at the thought.

"I'm not sure that's what happened. Jinae informed her mother that Jimin returned home crying on the day she was last seen. She couldn't hear what he had told his family, and it seems like the Parks have been tight-lipped about it since."

While it was good hearing the witch was gone, part of me was nervous about the last words Eomma had told me. Jimin was in tears when he'd returned to the palace, which expressed to me that he held deep feelings for the interloper. If he had terminated their pairing, I wouldn't think he'd be distraught. I was suspicious about the entire thing, and I wanted to know the truth.

For each doubt I had from hearing this news, there were far more benefits for me if she was out of the way. A wave of elation coursed through me as I realised that it didn't matter what had happened to the witch—Jimin was now fair game.

"It looks like my hard work is going to finally pay off," I told Eomma after I'd voiced my plan to her. "It seems the universe wants me to help mend Park Jimin's heart, and in turn, carry his child."

"I have to admit, he does seem like the better man for you," Eomma whispered as if she was divulging a state secret. "To be honest, I don't know why you've been paired with that Seed Bearer. I'm impressed by him and judging by what he is doing—or rather the lack of what he should be doing—you deserve a man with a better character."

I wholeheartedly agreed with every word my mother spoke. Her wisdom and experience always resonated with me and guided me towards making decisions that would engineer the outcome I wanted. I had wondered many times over the past four months why I had been assigned to one Seed Bearer when I would have been better suited with others. The man I was supposed to reproduce with was too passive. He preferred to spend time in the library with his nose in books instead of losing himself in me so we could fulfil our assignment. I could have given him the best sex of his life, yet instead, he preferred to keep me at arm's length. It was his loss though. Jimin was the better man—more handsome with a better personality. Park Jimin would make the perfect husband.

"You need to play your Seed Bearer perfectly so that he thinks it is his idea to go visit Jimin," my mother said in her usual conspiring tone. "If you can do that and get the blonde man alone, you can succeed in the plan to have his baby inside you."

I nodded thoughtfully while I took in her words. "I know just the approach, Eomma," I said with a scheming giggle. The plan was that I would influence the man I was with to decide that the both of us should visit Jimin to make sure he was okay. Then, once I was at the Park's palace, I would put my plan into motion of obtaining the superior Seed Bearer's baby.

"That's my girl."