Minho sat on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, head in his hands.

The house was finally — finally — quiet.

Toys were still scattered across the living room. Someone’s crayon drawing was half-finished on the coffee table. A sippy cup lay on its side in the hallway like a forgotten battlefield casualty.

But all three kids were asleep.

And Minho looked like he’d been hit by a freight train made of glitter, tantrums, and inexplicable spaghetti sauce.

You stood in the doorway, watching him in silence for a second.

He didn’t look up.

“They asked me the same question twenty-three times,” he muttered. “I counted.”

You bit back a laugh. “Which question?”

“Why clouds don’t fall. Why do clouds not fall, appa? But why not? But if they’re heavy, why don’t they fall? Are you lying?”

He looked up at you then — and his eyes were bloodshot but still that same warm brown. So much love buried under so much exhaustion.

“I love them,” he said, voice low. “I love them so much it scares me.”

You moved toward him slowly, kneeling in front of him. “I know.”

“But I swear,” he whispered, “if I hear ‘Daaaad’ in the next five minutes, I might actually climb out the window and start a new life in the woods.”

You laughed softly, resting your forehead against his knees. “I think you’d miss them after ten minutes.”

He groaned. “I would. Those little goblins have me wrapped around their tiny fingers.”

His hand came up, brushing your hair behind your ear. He still had glitter on his knuckles.

“I miss you,” he added after a second. “Not as ‘Mom.’ Not as bedtime-story voice. Just… you. My wife.”

“I miss you too,” you whispered.

He pulled you gently up into his lap, arms circling your waist like he never wanted to let go.

“I know this phase won’t last forever,” he said. “But some days? It feels like forever.”

You kissed the side of his head. “We’ll survive it. Together.”

He exhaled slowly — the kind of breath that shakes a little.

“Tomorrow,” he murmured, “I’ll wake up and let them climb all over me again. I’ll do the voices. I’ll reheat the pancakes five times because they keep getting distracted. I’ll watch that same cartoon again.”

You nodded.

“But tonight…” He tucked his face into your shoulder.

“…tonight, I just want to be yours.”