Chapter Text
Warm afternoon sunlight spills through the wide living room windows. Toy cars zip loudly across the hardwood floor as Ryujin and Jooyeon race around the living room.
“My car faster!” Ryujin says proudly, gripping her controller with both hands as her red race car bumps into Jooyeon’s blue one.
“Stop cheating!” Jooyeon gasps dramatically when his car crashes into the armchair and comes to a complete stop.
“I'm not cheating,” Ryujin argues immediately, though the grin on her face says otherwise.
A few feet away, Riki sits cross-legged on the floor in front of the television, quietly watching his older siblings play videogames together. Mina leans forward with complete focus while Sanghyeok lounges beside her comfortably, one arm resting across the back of the couch as he watches the screen.
“Mitang, left or right?” Sanghyeok asks as their characters stop at a crossroads in the game.
Mina pouts slightly, controller resting against her knees while she stares at the screen thoughtfully.
“I wanna do the left one, but it’s harder.”
“You can try if you want,” Sanghyeok says with an encouraging smile. “I think you can do it. Just wait for the right timing before making your attack.”
Riki scoots closer to his brother, looking at him with stars in his eyes. "Can I play too, hyung?"
“Come here.” Sanghyeok immediately pats the empty space beside him.
Riki climbs over with haste, settling against Sanghyeok’s side while the older boy places the controller into his hands.
“This button attacks,” Sanghyeok explains, guiding Riki’s thumbs over the controls. “And this one dodges. Don’t panic-spam or you’ll die immediately.”
“Oppa, don't scare him.” Mina scolds.
“What? I’m just teaching him how to play the game.”
Riki laughs as his character starts moving around the screen, his smile growing brighter with each monster he defeats.
On the couch, right in the middle of the chaos, sits Momo, scrolling through short-form videos on her phone.
“Kids,” she calls, tilting her phone toward the older kids. “Do you think I can do this?”
Onscreen is a video of a popular content creator hosting an omakase sushi dinner in his home kitchen—an over-the-top husband making dinner for his wife and kid. Thinly cut fresh fish, expensive seafood, beautifully presented food—everything's over-the-top.
Mina glances over before raising a brow. “Really, Mama?”
“What?” Momo defends, looking back at the video. “It looks simple.”
Momo stares at the screen—slicing fish, making rice, and rolling sushi. How hard can that be? She isn’t a master chef, but her skills have improved tenfold since she dated Jihyo.
“No offense, Boss Mom,” Sanghyeok says from the floor, eyes still glued to the TV, “but the chances of you cutting your finger before the fifth course are around ninety-five percent—very likely.”
Momo gasps, a little offended. “What do you mean? I made dinner a few nights ago—nothing happened, and you all said it was good.”
“Your cooking’s not bad, Mama.” Mina pauses the game for a second and finally looks back at her mother properly. “But I think an eighteen-course sushi omakase is a bit much, don’t you think? You can do something simpler, quality over quantity.”
Momo stares at her daughter for a moment before nodding slowly. Sometimes Mina sounds too mature for her age, which, honestly, is unfair.
With a dramatic sigh, she continues scrolling through more of the videos in search of something slightly less complicated. Unfortunately, the creator's entire act is making absurdly extra dinners for his wife—a giant sushi boat, a Mexican food stall, and a Korean barbecue at home.
“What you doing, Mama?” Ryujin appears out of nowhere, ducking beneath Momo’s phone until her tiny face squeezes between the screen and Momo. The seven-year-old climbs onto the couch, clumsily pushing herself onto Momo’s lap.
“Oof—baby, careful,” Momo laughs softly, helping steady her daughter before wrapping an arm around her waist.
“Jooyeon wants to see too!” The little boy abandons his race car, sprinting toward the couch like a lit little spark plug bursting with energy.
Momo chuckles as she lifts him onto her other leg.
Now, both children are practically glued to her sides, staring at the phone with wide curious eyes.
“What’s that, Mama?” Jooyeon asks, tilting his head up at her in confusion.
“I'm planning Mama and Mommy’s wedding anniversary dinner, baby,” Momo answers, still scrolling.
“Anniversary?” Ryujin asks, her tongue twisting on the letters.
Momo smiles softly, brushing her hair back. “It’s a special day Mommy and I celebrate. It’s the day we got married eight years ago.”
The two pups blink at her, trying to grasp what she just said.
"It's like a birthday but for Mama and Mommy. Once a year, Mommy and I go out and celebrate like what we do for your birthday." Momo explains as best as she can.
Momo loves celebrating the different milestones of their relationship. She loves planning dates weeks in advance, choosing bouquets with the prettiest flowers, and searching for the gift that could somehow capture everything she feels for her wife. More than anything, she loves the way Jihyo’s eyes sparkled whenever she smiled at her.
The celebrations aren’t always big or extravagant. Most of their celebrations are usually simple—candlelit dinners at intimate restaurants, nights tangled together under hotel sheets while room service grew cold on the table beside them, stolen hours where the rest of the world faded into nothing. Every celebration was another reminder that she got to love Jihyo—and be loved in return.
This year was supposed to be the same. Momo planned to take Jihyo to the only three-Michelin-star restaurant in Korea. But about a month ago, Jihyo sent her a TikTok video—a man building a giant sushi boat dinner for his wife. After that, she noticed Jihyo kept watching and liking his videos. Momo took the hint—Jihyo wanted this for their anniversary. And naturally, Momo isn't one to say no.
“That looks yummy, Mama,” Ryujin says, pointing at the screen where the influencer is now cooking an enormous tomahawk steak dripping with butter.
“It does, doesn’t it, baby?”
“Jooyeon loves meat, Mama! Meat!” Jooyeon cheers loudly, throwing both hands in the air.
Momo bursts out laughing. “It’s not for you, buddy. It’s for Mommy.”
“I want to make something for Mommy too,” Ryujin admits, still staring at the video.
“Me too!” Jooyeon chimes in immediately.
“That’s actually a really good idea.” Momo agrees, turning toward the others near the television. "What do you think kids? Do you want to help Mama make dinner for your Mom?"
“The triplets cooking? That sounds dangerous.” Sanghyeok snorts.
“Extremely,” Mina agrees.
"I don't know." Momo shrugs. "Maybe we can bake a cake and let the troublemakers decorate it."
"Sounds like a plan, Mama." Mina agrees before shifting her focus back to her game.
“I know I agreed to help you tomorrow, Mama, but my friends and I were supposed to watch a movie today. The new Avengers movie literally came out this morning.” Mina pouts dramatically as she follows Momo into the grocery store, dragging her sneakers loudly across the tiled floor.
The automatic doors slide open with a soft whoosh, immediately flooding them with the sounds of shopping carts rattling across the floor, cash registers beeping, and dozens of conversations blending together beneath the bright fluorescent lights.
“You can watch the movie next week, Mina,” Momo says, reaching for a shopping cart near the entrance. “I’m pretty sure it’ll still be showing by then.”
“That’s not the point,” Mina whines, stomping once in protest before hurrying after her mother. “Everyone’s gonna be talking about it tonight. Sungjae already said he’s hosting a Discord call after the movie. I’m gonna get spoiled before I even see it.”
“That sounds very difficult for you, Mitang,” Momo pretends to teases sympathize, though the smile tugging at her lips completely ruins the act.
“Mama, this is serious.”
Momo bites back another laugh.
To be fair, Mina is still a good kid. Sweet, polite, considerate, always helping around the house and looking after her younger siblings without being asked. She’s never difficult. Never rebellious. Never gives Momo or Jihyo actual headaches the way some teenagers apparently do.
Most days, she’s still Momo’s little princess.
But moments like this remind Momo that her daughter is fifteen and is going through the emotional and hormonal rollercoaster known as puberty.
“Mama, you don’t understand.” Mina stops beside the cart and stares at her like she’s explaining something as important and urgent as an international crisis. “Spoilers are literally everywhere now. Last time somebody spoiled Iron Man’s death in the comments section of a cat video.”
“Then just stay off the internet. Problem solved.” Momo reaches toward the produce display, carefully picking through the stack of green apples for the good ones while Mina watches her in complete disbelief.
“You can’t just ‘stay off the internet,’ Mama,” Mina says, horrified. “That’s not how life works anymore.”
Mina groans dramatically and lets herself fall forward against the shopping cart handle. “Can’t you just do groceries on your own? Sanghyeok oppa can help you. I can still catch the next showing if I leave now.”
“No,” Momo answers firmly, leaving no room for Mina to argue.
“Mamaaaa.”
“Mitaaaang.”
A quiet chuckle slips out beside them.
“What?” Mina’s head snaps toward the sound instantly.
Sanghyeok, who has been silently walking beside the cart the entire time with both hands tucked awkwardly into the pockets of his oversized hoodie, quickly reels in his expression and acting clueless. “Nothing.”
“You’re laughing because you don’t care about Marvel movies,” Mina accuses, narrowing her eyes at him. “If the League World Championship were today, you’d be begging Mama to let you watch too.”
"I won't."
"You would."
"I won't."
"You totally would," Mina scoffs.
“You’re being a little dramatic, Mitang,” Sanghyeok says with a small laugh.
“Mamaaa! Sanghyeok-oppa is teasing me!” Mina groans again, immediately pointing an accusing finger at her brother. “Oppa called me dramatic.”
“I’m not teasing you.” Sanghyeok shrugs casually before stepping towards the seasoning and condiments aisle. “I just said I’ll take you on Sunday if you want.”
Mina freezes.
Her eyes widen.
“Wait.” She rushes after him so quickly that she nearly bumps into Momo and the shopping cart.
“Oppa, wait!”
Sanghyeok glances back just in time for Mina to grab onto the sleeve of his hoodie.
“You’ll come with me?” she asks hopefully.
“Yeah, so stop whining.”
The transformation on Mina’s face is immediate. Her entire mood brightens so quickly—it’s like the last ten minutes of complaining never even happened.
“You’re the best person alive,” she announces dramatically.
“I know.”
“Everything’s settled then,” Momo says, finally stepping between her children before they bump into the shelves. “Mina, Sanghyeok will take you to the movies on Sunday.”
Mina grins brightly while Sanghyeok pretends not to notice.
“And,” Momo continues, pushing the cart farther down the aisle, “if you two help me make tomorrow’s dinner a success, I’ll pay for the tickets and snacks. I’ll even give you extra money so you can pick out a new game for your console while you’re at the mall.”
“Deal.” Mina immediately sticks her hand out.
Momo laughs and shakes it seriously.
“But no more fighting games,” she warns. “Riki’s been watching you two play too much lately. The other day, he nearly sent Jooyeon flying with a roundhouse kick after Jooyeon broke his favorite toy robot.”
“Riki did what?” Sanghyeok bursts out laughing.
“No promises.” Mina giggles too.
Momo rolls her eyes fondly, then grabs a shopping basket from the stack by the aisle and hands it to Sanghyeok. “Okay, quit standing around and make yourself useful. Go get the stuff for dessert.”
Sanghyeok takes the basket and glances at Mina. “You have the ingredients list?”
“Yep.” Mina pulls out her phone and opens her notes app. “I copied it from Mom’s recipe book last week.”
Sanghyeok scans the recipe, skeptical. “You really think we can pull this off by ourselves?”
Mina scoffs. “Please. I’ve made this with Mom, like, a million times. I could do it with one eye closed.”
“That sounds exactly like something a person says right before they accidentally burn the kitchen down,” Sanghyeok teases.
“I’m serious, oppa.” Mina immediately elbows him in the side.
He winces dramatically.
Momo watches the two bicker for another second, smiling softly to herself.
Sometimes, seeing Sanghyeok and Mina together still makes her emotional in a way she can’t really explain. They are both such quiet children by nature—more cautious than others, always observing and thinking before they speak or act. But together—especially at home, surrounded by family—they become lighter and more relaxed. Mina talks endlessly, bouncing from one thought to the next without pause, especially since they share a lot of hobbies and interests that give them even more to talk about. Sanghyeok, quite the tsundere, responds by teasing his little sister at every turn, though it’s obvious he adores her more than he lets on. He indulges her constantly—carrying things for her without being asked, letting her steal bites off his plate, always there to step in and help the moment she needs him.
It still amazes Momo sometimes how naturally they match each other. Sanghyeok was already fourteen when they adopted him—already old enough to remember life before them. Old enough to have walls built around his heart. And yet somehow, over the years, he had slipped into their family so completely that it feels like he was there from the start.
And she’s grateful for that every single day.
Grateful that her children have an older brother they can depend on—someone kind, steady, who would protect them without a second thought. Especially Mina, who Momo knows is quietly relieved to have someone she can lean on too, someone who lets her just be the little sister sometimes, instead of always having to act like the older responsible one to the triplets.
But more than anything, Momo is happy to see what their family has done for the boy too.
When she first met Sanghyeok, there was a sadness in him that broke her heart a little. He was polite, quiet, careful with everything he said and did, like he was afraid of taking up space and becoming a burden to anyone.
Now, he laughs more loudly. He sulks, complains, and acts more freely—trusting that no matter how much trouble he causes, the family he found won't disappear. He even started asking for things now, something small and simple to start, like he finally believes that he is allowed to want things too.
He feels younger now than he did at fourteen. And every time Momo sees that lighter, more carefree version of him, she remembers the first time she met Mina—and how love and family slowly healed her from her pain too.
This is what she loves about being a mom.
“Alright,” Momo says finally. “Go get everything you need, so we can finish faster. Don’t forget we still have to pick up Jooyeon from piano and Riki from soccer. We’ll spoil the surprise if your mom and Ryujin get home before we do.”
“Okay, Mama.” Mina nods quickly.
“Sanghyeok-ah, call me when you’re done—and don’t forget to watch your little sister.”
“Yes, Boss Mom.” Sanghyeok gives a playful salute.
The two teenagers finally head off toward the baking supply aisle together, Mina already rambling about frosting flavors while Sanghyeok walks beside her in silence.
Momo watches them disappear around the corner before continuing down the produce section alone.
She grabs the rest of the fruits and vegetables she needs for dinner, carefully inspecting them like she knows what she’s doing. She, in fact, does not. She can't even remember the last time she went grocery shopping without her beloved wife on her side. Small errands to the store, maybe, but nothing like this.
Still, she tries her best, asking for help when she needs it.
Thankfully, the store clerk was there to help her pick the best type of potato for mash, confused by the different shapes and colors of the potatoes available.
After finishing with the produce, Momo makes her way over to the meat section, where different cuts and meats are neatly displayed behind glass.
She studies them for a moment, not able to find the cut she needs. “Um, excuse me. Do you have tomahawk steaks? Premium grade ones?” She asks, stepping up to the butcher counter.
“We can cut one for you,” the butcher replies. “There’s premium Korean beef in the back. It’s not a cut people usually order, so we don’t prepare them ahead.”
“Oh. Could I get three big ones?”
The butcher nods and disappears through a door, returning shortly with a tray of thick, marbled cuts.
“Special occasion?” he asks as he begins wrapping them up.
“Anniversary dinner."
“Ah.” He smiles knowingly. “You must be pretty experienced if you’re cooking tomahawk steaks.”
Momo immediately shakes her head. “Oh no. This is actually my first time cooking steak."
“Oh.” He looks concerned. “Tomahawk isn’t exactly an easy place to start.”
“I watched videos. Did my research.”
The butcher chuckles softly as he finishes the wrapping. “Good luck then. Just don’t forget to check the temperature—and let the meat rest after.”
He hands her the package with an easy smile, and Momo bows slightly in thanks before moving on.
Truthfully, Momo has never been particularly knowledgeable about produce or meat cuts or all the technical parts of cooking. Jihyo is much better at those things between the two of them.
But there is one thing Momo knows very well.
Wine.
She wanders into the wine section with far more confidence than she’s had the entire shopping trip, eyes scanning the shelves carefully.
She picks a rich red one that pairs perfectly with steak. Then, a few shelves down, she spots another label she recognizes instantly—Jihyo’s favorite.
Momo smiles softly to herself as she places the second bottle inside the cart. Having too much wine is never really a problem.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the grocery store, Mina stands in front of the candy aisle while Sanghyeok checks the list in his hands.
Cocoa powder. That’s the last thing they need.
Sanghyeok looks up, following her gaze. “…Do you want Skittles?”
Mina nods with a small, guilty pout. “But we can’t, remember?”
Jihyo has been strict about sweets and junk food lately. It started after Jooyeon and Ryujin left Mina’s room covered in chocolate and crumbs after discovering the secret stash Mina had hidden in a box under her closet. It would’ve been funny in hindsight, except the two troublemakers ate so much they ended up in the ER that same night with severe stomach pain and indigestion.
Sanghyeok glances down the aisle once, then casually picks up a pack and slips it under the cake ingredients in their cart.
Mina gasps. “Oppa.”
“What?”
“We’re going to get in so much trouble if Mom finds out.”
“We’ll just hide it in my room. Keep it where the three goblins can’t reach it.”
“And what about Mama? She’ll see it when we pay.”
“We distract her, and she won't even notice what she paid for.”
Mina laughs under her breath. “We’re definitely going to get caught.”
“Then be ready to beg,” he says with a smile. “You know Mama can’t say no to you.”
“True,” she giggles.
“We should get Mars bars too.” He adds another pack of contraband into the cart.
Mina stares at him for a second, dumbfounded. “Okay,” she says, shaking her head. “Now this actually feels illegal.”
Momo wakes to the feeling of featherlight kisses being scattered across the side of her face. One brushes her temple, another lingers near the corner of her eye, then three soft kisses on her cheek before two more trace the curve of her jaw. The kisses continue downward, warm lips grazing the sensitive place between her neck and shoulder—the healed mark of her mating bond.
Momo lets out a low groan, still half-asleep but already smiling.
When she finally forces her eyes open, she finds Jihyo hovering above her, fully awake and grinning from ear to ear. “Good morning, babe.”
Momo blinks up at her slowly, trying her best to fight off the claws of sleep.
Jihyo laughs softly when her wife starts closing her eyes again. “Wake up, sleepyhead." She gently shakes Momo’s shoulder.
“Mmhhh,” Momo groans, rolling onto her back. Her eyes still adjusting to the sunlight. “Morning.”
“Happy anniversary, babe.” Jihyo leans down, pressing a chaste kiss against her lips.
Right, today’s their anniversary.
The realization fully settles into Momo’s sleepy brain just as Jihyo starts pulling away, but before she can move out of reach, Momo’s hand slides up to the back of her neck. Jihyo gasps in surprise as Momo pulls her back down.
This kiss is slower, warmer. Momo’s fingers tangle into Jihyo’s hair while her other hand settles against her waist, guiding her closer until Jihyo ends up half sprawled on top of her. Jihyo lets out a quiet laugh against her lips before melting into the kiss completely, one hand bracing herself beside Momo’s head while the other rests against her chest.
Jihyo’s familiar scent thickens around her, sweet and citrusy, until Momo feels wrapped in it completely, making her want to never leave their bed again. Jihyo moans softly as Momo kisses her deeper, demanding and hungry in the way only Jihyo can make her. Momo tilts her head and kisses her harder, drawing a quiet sound from Jihyo that disappears between their mouths. Jihyo’s hand tightens against her chest, and suddenly, the alpha is not half-asleep anymore.
“Momo…” Jihyo moans when they finally pull apart.
Momo only smiles, resting her forehead against hers for a second before wrapping both arms around her tightly.“Happy anniversary, babe. I love you,” Momo murmurs softly near her ear.
"I love you too." Jihyo smiles against her shoulder.
They stay in that position for a moment—limbs tangled, the steady rhythm of their hearts beating against each other, breaths slowing down. It's so warm and comforting that it lulls Momo back to sleep.
“So,” Jihyo says after a while, voice still bright and awake compared to Momo’s half-conscious state, “where are we going tonight?”
“Secret,” Momo answers, eyes already closed.
"No clue?"
“Nope.”
Jihyo tries to stay still, she really does, but she’s far too awake for this much cuddling at eight in the morning. After another few restless seconds, she finally sits up. “Wait, I have to show you my gift."
“Don’t go,” Momo grumbles, reaching out after her wife. Unfortunately, she’s too slow, and Jihyo escapes the blankets, heading towards their walk-in closet.
After a few seconds of silence, Jihyo returns to the bedside, nudging Momo's still body gently. “Babe, wake up." .
Momo cracks one eye open. Her wife stands beside the bed holding a wrapped box covered in soft pink paper tied together with a translucent gold ribbon, smiling proudly.
“Happy anniversary to the best wife, alpha, and mom in the world.”
Momo finally pushes herself to sit, leaning against the headboard while accepting the gift. “What’s this?”
“Open it.”
Momo unties the ribbon before ripping open the wrapping paper beneath it. She looks at the box curiously before lifting the lid—inside is a pair of black dress shoes.
“I noticed your work shoes were getting worn out. The soles are practically worn through, and you’ve had them for years already. I figured it was time you got a new pair. Don't worry, it's the same brand. I know you loved how comfortable the old ones were.” Jihyo explains.
Momo lets out a soft laugh, running her fingers over the leather. “You really notice everything, huh? Thank you, babe. I love it.”
“You’re welcome. But that’s not my only gift,” Jihyo says, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of her lips no matter how hard she tries to hide it.
Momo narrows her eyes suspiciously. “Should I be concerned?”
Jihyo giggles and pulls a small gift bag from behind her back. “Apparently, the traditional eighth anniversary gifts are bronze, pottery, or lace,” she explains, holding the bag out to her. “So I got you something that fits the theme.”
Momo takes the bag carefully, already wary. She peeks inside—and immediately freezes. Her entire face goes bright red so fast, heat rushing all the way to the tips of her ears.
Inside the bag is a set of black lace lingerie.
Momo quickly glances back up at her wife, blinking in disbelief. “You got this for me?”
“For us,” Jihyo corrects with a smug little grin. “For later.” She punctuates it with a wink, looking far too satisfied with herself as Momo’s brain visibly short-circuits.
“Okay, we should probably get up now. The kids are gonna wake up soon.” Jihyo adds casually, stepping away from the bed like she hadn’t just completely derailed her wife’s ability to think.
Momo stares down at the gift bag for another long second before aggressively shoving the very distracting mental image out of her head.
“Wait,” she blurts out quickly.
“Hm?” Jihyo pauses near the door.
“I have a gift for you too.”
“Now?” Jihyo looks surprised as she walks back over. This is unexpected—usually Momo waits until the end of the day or during their dinner dates to give Jihyo her gift.
Momo throws back the duvet and leans toward the nightstand, pulling open the top drawer. She takes out the book she’s been reading for the past few weeks, and from between its pages, she takes out a cream-colored envelope.
Jihyo opens it, finding four slips of paper inside.
“It’s a VIP luxury spa package at the Prime Meridian Resort,” Momo explains. “Champagne, massages, facials, mud wraps, jacuzzi—an entire day of pampering for four. You can take the omegas with you. I already told Sejeong, Sana, and Dahyun last week.”
“You’re not coming?” Jihyo pouts, sounding a little disappointed. It’s their anniversary, and it finally falls on a Sunday this year. Jihyo had assumed they’d spend the whole day together.
Momo reminds herself not to feel guilty. This is part of the plan—just an excuse to get Jihyo out of the house so she can prepare the real surprise.
“I have a client meeting this afternoon. But I’ll pick you up from the resort at six for our dinner date," Momo lies.
“So this is basically a bribe?” Jihyo raises a brow.
“I’m sorry, babe.” Momo reaches for her, wrapping her arms around Jihyo’s waist and pressing her cheek against her abdomen. “I really tried to reschedule. But it’s important. We have to close the deal before the clients fly back to the States on Monday. I hope you still enjoy the day with the girls.
Jihyo laughs softly, fingers threading through Momo’s hair. “It’s okay. I know you've been working on this deal for months now.” She leans back slightly, meeting Momo’s eyes with a playful glare. “But the food better be good to make up for it.”
Momo immediately thinks of the cooking videos saved on her phone. And the fact that she has never actually cooked a tomahawk steak before. And the fact that she only has five unreliable troublemakers to help her. It's going to be a hard task, but she smiles anyway.
“Of course, babe.”
By the time Momo gets home with the groceries she’d secretly stashed at Sana’s place yesterday, the house is already loud with energy.
The second the front door opens, tiny footsteps thunder down the hallway.
“Mama’s home!” Jooyeon screams at the top of his lungs, nearly sliding across the floor in his socks while one of the house staff rushes after him.
Momo barely gets the door shut before the triplets crash into her all at once.
“Hey, hey—slow down,” she laughs, quickly pulling the grocery bags behind her before someone accidentally knocks them over.
“Are we cooking now, Mama?” Ryujin asks excitedly, arms wrapped around Momo’s leg as she looks up at her.
Beside her, Riki stretches onto his tiptoes, shamelessly trying to peek inside the bags.
Momo fights back a smile. “Yes. But only if everyone lets go of Mama first and goes to the dining table.”
The three of them let go and sprint toward the dining room, their footsteps echoing through the house. “No running!” Momo calls after them, already knowing none of them are listening.
Momo sets the bags down on the kitchen island before walking over to where the kids are waiting at the dining table.
Honestly, letting the younger ones help in the kitchen sounds like a disaster waiting to happen. There are too many sharp knives, hot pans, and way too many ways for someone to get hurt. But Momo also knows her children well enough to know that saying no wouldn’t actually solve anything. They’d just spend the whole day sneaking back into the kitchen every five minutes until she eventually gave in anyway.
Besides, this is a chance for them to do something for Jihyo as a family. Which is exactly why Momo spent two weeks coming up with the most foolproof plan for success possible.
She stops at the head of the table, shoulders square and chest out. For a minute, she lets her scent spread through the room—not suffocating, just enough to settle the excited energy bouncing around the room. It's a quiet reminder that she's serious right now.
“I’ll let you three help. But Mama has rules.” The triplets sit straighter at the sound of her alpha voice, a tone she rarely uses at home. “First, the kitchen is off-limits unless Mama, Mina, or Sanghyeok says you can come in. Second, everyone has a job to do, so just focus on that. And lastly, no fighting.”
Submission doesn’t work on children the same way it does on adults who’ve already presented, but Momo still dislikes using her alpha voice on them. She never wants her children to listen out of instinctive obedience alone. Something about it has always felt wrong to her. But safety comes first today.
“Does everyone promise to follow Mama's rules?”
“We promise,” Riki says with a serious nod.
“Promise promise,” Jooyeon echoes.
Ryujin lifts both hands. “Pinky promise, Mama!”
That finally earns a smile from Momo.
“Good,” she says softly, satisfied for now.
"Now, it's time for your uniforms." Momo reaches into one of the bags and pulls out three tiny aprons.
The triplets scramble out of their seats.
“Ryujin red! Ryujin red!” Ryujin chants, jumping in place.
“Mine blue!” Riki says at nearly the same time.
Jooyeon gasps. “No pink, Mama?”
“Okay, wait—one at a time,” Momo laughs, already losing control of the situation again. “Mina, Sanghyeok, help me get this on them.”
She hands the red apron to Ryujin and the blue one to Riki, leaving the yellow apron for Jooyeon.
“Sorry, buddy.” Momo crouches down to tie it around his waist. “There weren’t any pink ones.”
Jooyeon sighs, but still lifts his arms obediently so Momo can fix the straps. Momo believes that Jooyeon inherited her love for the color pink and finds it absolutely adorable.
“I can’t believe you actually bought those aprons for them,” Mina says, laughing as she helps Riki straighten his.
“Oh, they’re not the only ones getting uniforms.” Momo reaches back into the bag again, this time pulling out two small white chef jackets.
“You did not.” Mina stares at her in horror.
“Absolutely not. I’m not wearing that.” Sanghyeok protests too.
Momo ignores both of them and starts putting on her own apron. “The man in the video your mom watches is over the top and always wears a chef jacket for his skits. The surprise is not complete without it. And if I’m committing to the bit, then everyone’s committing to the bit.”
The two teenagers groan in objection, but reluctantly put the jackets on.
Unfortunately for them, they both look ridiculously cute in them. Momo bites the inside of her cheek, already reaching for her phone.
“Don’t you dare,” Mina warns her.
"It's for your Mom." Momo aims the camera at them, getting ready to snap some photos. "Kids, smile."
After taking a few photos, Momo claps her hands together to get everyone's attention. “Okay, let's start cooking.”
She then turns to the house staff gathered by the wall, all of them trying—and failing—not to laugh at the chaos already unfolding. “Can you please watch the triplets? Let them work on their own, just make sure nobody gets hurt or Jihyo might kill us all.”
The staff nod in agreement, already used to the mess and shenanigans of the Hirai-Park children.
“Excellent.”
With that settled, Momo begins assigning tasks. Helping Mina and Sanghyeok with the cake, Ryujin is put in charge of measuring and mixing ingredients. Jooyeon is at the sink washing vegetables while Ms. Jung keeps an eye on him.
Unlike the other two, Riki has a little experience in the kitchen, helping Jihyo around for the past year. Hence, Momo trusts him enough to use a kid-friendly knife to chop ingredients for the salad.
With everyone occupied, Momo finally turns her attention to the centerpiece of the meal, the tomahawk steak. She pats it dry, seasons it generously, and follows the recipe she'd watched far too many times over the past week. Once satisfied, she places it inside the oven to start cooking.
Unfortunately, in the blink of an eye, the peace and calm in the house were shattered.
“RYUJIN, SLOWLY—NO!” Mina screams
Mom turns and sees a cloud of flour explode over the dining table. Ryujin stands at the center of the disaster, whisk still clutched in her hand. Her face is dusted white, cocoa powder smeared across one cheek. Across from her, Mina stares at the mixing bowl in disbelief. Even Sanghyeok has speckles of flour in his hair.
"What happened?" Momo hurries over.
Mina points at Ryujin, a little pissed off by the mess. “Somebody got too excited and mixed too fast.”
"Sorry, I just wanted to help," Ryujin sulks, shoulders dropping.
"Well, now we have to start all over again." Mina scolds her sister.
Ryujin lets out a small sniffle. The sight of her trembling lip immediately melts whatever annoyance Mina had. “Aw, no, don't cry.”
“Sorry, Mama,” Ryujin mumbles. “Sorry, unnie.” Her eyes are already beginning to shine with tears.
“Hey, it's okay, honey. Accidents happen.” Momo crouches beside her daughter and brushes the flour off her hair.
Sanghyeok steps in and lifts the little girl into his arms, adjusting her on his hip. “Hey, Jinjin. Don't cry. It's fine. We bought enough ingredients for three cakes. We can try again.”
“Really?” Ryujin peeks up from his shoulder.
“Yup. Don't worry about it.” Mina smiles, comforting her. “There are always disaster cakes.”
With the crisis averted, everyone returns to their stations. Mina starts measuring ingredients for Cake Number Two while Sanghyeok has his arms still wrapped around Ryujin's waist, bouncing her slowly and distracting her with silly jokes until her tears dry up completely. For a few blissful minutes, Momo allows herself to believe the worst is over.
“DONE, MAMA!”
Momo immediately knows she shouldn't have lowered her guard.
Jooyeon emerges from the kitchen absolutely drenched—not slightly but absolutely dripping wet. His apron hangs heavily from his tiny body, water dripping from the hem onto the floor. A small puddle forms beneath his feet while a trail of water stretches all the way back toward the sink.
“Buddy, why are you soaking wet?” Momo asks.
“I washed the salad,” Jooyeon announces proudly, holding up a tray of vegetables.
“Did you take a bath in the sink too?” she asks, grabbing a towel to dry his damp hair.
Jooyeon stares at her, his round brown eyes full of confusion. "No, Mama. You can't take a bath in the kitchen—that's silly."
Momo gives up, letting out a deep sigh. She moves to untie Jooyeon's wet apron, staring up at Mrs. Jung. "Why didn't you stop him?"
"But Ma'am, you said let them work on their own. He wasn't in any danger, so I didn't stop him," Mrs. Jung replies, trying not to laugh. "Should I get him changed?"
"Yes, please." Momo can only shake her head as she watches Mrs. Jung lead Jooyeon upstairs to his bedroom, the little boy wrapped in a towel to keep water from dripping all over the floor.
"At least you're doing well." Momo glances at Riki, who appears to be working diligently on the vegetables.
But on closer inspection, Momo notices the suspiciously small pile of chopped carrots beside him.
"Riki, is this all you've done?"
"Mmm...” Riki mumbles around a mouthful of carrot. “Trying my best, Mama. Knife not sharp."
Momo looks up at Mr. Cha, who has been supervising the entire time.
Mr. Cha leans closer and lowers his voice. “He's eaten more than he's chopped."
Momo laughs helplessly, patting her youngest son on the head. "Leave some for Mommy, bud."
Riki just nods, but immediately pops another carrot slice into his mouth as if nothing happened.
Momo looks around the kitchen.
There’s flour on the floor.
The kitchen is wet.
The cake's not in the oven yet.
Will they ever get anything done in time?