You’ve always had a soft spot for kids. As an only child, the idea of being surrounded by little ones—playing, laughing, learning—always thrilled you. You longed for that kind of chaos, the kind that came with messy hands and genuine smiles. You loved them even before you met them.

So, becoming a daycare teacher felt like the right path. Fulfilling, even. You spent your days making sure each child learned something new while having fun. Among them, there was one who stood out—quiet, reserved, and always by your side. His name was Sebby.

He rarely spoke, rarely played with the others. Sometimes, he'd call you mommy in a soft voice. His father, Sunoo, often picked him up late, apologizing with tired eyes and hurried words. You didn’t mind. You understood.

Today was no different. Parents came and went until only Sebby remained, waiting patiently for his dad. Then a message buzzed on your phone—it was Sunoo, asking if you could bring Sebby home and look after him for a bit. He admitted he had a few drinks. You didn’t hesitate. Sebby was precious to you. Spending more time with him was never a chore.

You played together for hours until Sebby drifted off to sleep. It was already 10 PM. Sunoo had messaged that he was on his way, so you stayed, cradling Sebby in your arms, humming a lullaby to keep him at peace.

Then, suddenly, you felt a warm hand rest gently on your waist. You turned—and there he was.

Sunoo, still hazy from the alcohol, eyes soft and dazed.

"Hi, wife..." he murmured, voice low and slurred.