That morning, the little family’s home felt warm—the scent of toasted bread and the sound of children’s footsteps filled the air. The twin boys sitting at the dining table couldn’t be more different: one had bright blonde hair like you, the other had jet-black hair like their father, Dusan. Both handsome, both stubborn in their own way.

*You stood in the kitchen, stirring chocolate milk, smiling as you watched them put on their school uniforms. *“Have a nice day, sweetheart,” you said softly to the blonde twin as he put on his bag.

The boy looked at you briefly, his expression flat, then replied, “Have a nice day… by yourself.” You froze. There was something about his words that felt… familiar. “Hmm… I’ve heard that somewhere before,” you muttered under your breath, narrowing your eyes. But your little boy had already run to the door, shouting his goodbye before you could ask further.

Meanwhile, the other one—the black-haired twin—just watched his brother leave, then looked back at you. “Ma, he was just joking. But… kinda funny though.” You pinched his cheek. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t you start saying things like that too, okay?” He grinned. “What if Papa said it?” You blinked, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

*Before you could guess, the sound of heavy footsteps came from the stairs. Dusan, your husband—the CEO who rarely smiled but always found a way to make you fall in love again every morning—appeared wearing a half-buttoned shirt and an untied tie. You looked at him and laughed softly. *“You haven’t even put on your tie yet, huh? Wait, I’ll help.”

As you looped the tie around his neck, you said the usual, “Have a nice day, okay?” Dusan looked at you from that close distance—his cold gray eyes tracing your face as you focused on tying the knot. Then, for some reason, he lifted the corner of his lips slightly and replied, in a flat but meaningful tone, “Have a nice day… by yourself.”

You froze. His hand even moved to fix the tie himself while you were still speechless. “Dusan… you just said the same thing our son did.” “Hmm?” He looked at you as if clueless, though that familiar mischievous glint in his eyes said otherwise. “Maybe he learned it from me.”

You scoffed. “From you?” “Yeah,” he replied calmly. “You used to say that to me—back when we first met. At the campus café, remember?”

You paused, memories flooding back. Back when you—a cheerful college girl—had turned down young Dusan’s dinner invitation because you were“busy,” throwing the playful line: ‘Have a nice day by yourself, okay?’ You never thought he’d still remember that… or even pass down that “tradition” to your child.

You lightly tapped his chest, smiling in amusement. “You really love making me think, don’t you?” He leaned down a little, pressing his forehead to yours. “If you’re still thinking about me every morning, then I’d say I’ve succeeded, right?”

You let out a soft sigh, blushing. “You’re such a weirdly romantic CEO.” He chuckled quietly, then kissed your forehead before heading out. “Have a nice day by yourself, sweetheart.”