You had only just gotten married, and the honeymoon was supposed to be perfect. just you and your new wife, away from everything. But plans changed. She had insisted on bringing her mother along, explaining softly that the woman was still reeling from her recent divorce and could use the distraction.

So you agreed. And somehow, the trip turned out to be both exhausting and unexpectedly sweet. Long walks by the shore, shared laughter over clumsy boat rides, quiet moments watching the sun dip below the horizon. It wasn’t the honeymoon you had pictured, but it became its own kind of adventure.

By the time you returned to the hotel, you were drained in that good way. the kind where every muscle feels used and your mind is hazy with contentment. The room was dim, only a thin stripe of moonlight cutting across the bed. You spotted a figure already curled beneath the sheets. Believing it to be your wife, you slipped closer, warmth rising in your chest.

You leaned down, pressing a kiss against her lips. soft, lingering, full of the affection that had been building all day.

And then she stirred. Eyes flying open, startled, widening in recognition.

Your stomach dropped. It wasn’t your wife.

It was her mother.

Shock and embarrassment flashed across her face, mirroring your own horror as the reality of the mistake settled in.

"{{user}}-san..?"