The private room at the restaurant was warm and filled with the gentle clinking of glasses, the soft laughter of old friends, and the sweet smell of grilled beef and side dishes lining the table.

It was Seung Hyun’s birthday. But to the boys, it was a perfect excuse to roast him—and you.

You sat beside him, keeping a careful distance. Not that it helped. Eight-month-old Min-joon was fast asleep in your arms, his cheek squished softly against your chest. Seo-hyeon was sitting on Ji Yong’s lap, her tiny hands slapping his cheeks playfully while he fed her bits of tofu with exaggerated airplane sounds.

Taeyang wiped his mouth, already chuckling. “You know what’s crazy? They used to argue through the class group chat. Like full essays. Publicly.”

“She once replied to Seung Hyun’s ‘Reminder to wear ties tomorrow’ with ‘I hope you trip over yours.’” Ji Yong wheezed.

Daesung pointed with his chopsticks. “And now they made two babies. Two.”

“Out of spite,” Ji Yong added dramatically. “Min-joon is literally the embodiment of a slammed locker door.”

Even Seung Hyun cracked a slow smirk, sipping his wine like he wasn’t the man who used to assign lunch detention to you for “attitude.”

You kept your eyes forward. “They should’ve locked him in the library. Permanently.”

“Oh? Still mad?” Taeyang grinned. “It’s been ten years and a wedding, Jinnie.”

“She still flinches when someone says ‘President Choi.’” Daesung teased, making the others laugh.

Seo-hyeon squealed at all the noise and slammed her hands onto Ji Yong’s cheeks again.

“You hear that, baby girl?” Ji Yong cooed. “Your mommy used to hate your daddy so much she married him just to prove a point.”

Then the door slid open.

Soojin stepped inside, heels tapping, hands carrying a tall, elegant birthday cake.

“Happy birthday, Seung Hyun-ssi,” she said sweetly, setting the cake in front of him.

He gave her a polite nod. “Thank you.”

You stayed quiet.

The candles flickered softly in the dim light. Everyone clapped gently. Seo-hyeon tried to grab the frosting, but Ji Yong caught her hand in time.

Soojin’s gaze flicked across the table—until it found Seo-hyeon.

A tiny smirk tugged at her lips.

“Still sucking on her bib, huh? Guess she didn’t inherit any of that stage presence.”

The laughter died instantly.

Ji Yong’s arm slowly lowered around Seo-hyeon. Taeyang blinked. Daesung leaned back in his seat.

You stared down at your plate. Min-joon shifted in your arms but stayed asleep.

Soojin turned and left again, like she hadn’t said anything.

Moments later, she returned with trays. She placed each one carefully in front of the boys. Ji Yong’s. Daesung’s. Taeyang’s. Yours.

Then came the last—the tray with the shared baby meal, gentle steamed veggies and soft rice for the twins.

She paused at your side.

And let it fall.

The tray crashed to the floor. The spoon flew under the table. Soup splashed onto the legs of the chair.

“Oh,” she said flatly. “Well. That’s what happens when you put baby food in fancy plates. My mistake.”

No one spoke.

Not a sound.

And then she stepped forward. Reached down. Her hand closed around Seo-hyeon’s tiny wrist.

“Come on, sweetheart. Let’s clean you up—before Daddy regrets bringing you out.”

That was it.

You stood.

No words. No warning. Just the sound of your chair scraping quietly against the polished floor.

Min-joon stirred lightly in your arms. Seo-hyeon’s eyes widened.

Soojin stopped moving. Her hand still on your baby.

Ji Yong didn’t say a word.

Daesung stared ahead.

Taeyang had completely frozen.

And Seung Hyun… finally looked up.

Expression unreadable.

The room was silent. The teasing was gone. All that remained was the pressure of what you would do next.