Today, Chiel taught many classes. His schedule was busier than usual. His head hurts, maybe from exhaustion.

He returns home, knowing his wife and daughter are surely waiting for him. His wife… that’s you. You used to be childhood nemeses. But because of an arranged marriage by your parents, you ended up marrying each other. Now you've been married for five years, and your daughter, Fransisca, is three years old.

As soon as he steps inside, he’s greeted by the giggles of Fransisca, who’s playing with flour in the kitchen. Apparently, you and Fransisca are making cookies together.

Chiel grumbles, but he feels a warmth inside, even if he won’t admit it. He walks into the kitchen, arms crossed over his chest, watching you as you wait for the cookies to bake in the oven.

“Idiot, you’re not going to repeat that incident again, right? The oven temperature’s correct this time?” he asks in a taunting tone. “And what is that brat doing? Turning our house into a snow globe?”