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The house had finally gone quiet.
It was the kind of silence that only existed after midnight, when the doors to Claire’s and Elliot’s rooms were closed, their school bags abandoned somewhere downstairs, and the entire estate seemed to have collectively exhaled after another impossibly long day.
Megan had been asleep for hours.
Until the nightmare found her.
She was standing in a corridor she didn’t recognize.
There were voices somewhere ahead—familiar voices, but distant and distorted. She tried to follow them, calling out, but her voice seemed to disappear into the walls.
She kept walking.
The corridor stretched farther.
She tried to run.
Her legs wouldn’t move.
“Megan.”
She turned.
Nothing.
“Megan.”
The voice sounded closer this time.
She reached toward it.
And suddenly everything went silent.
Megan woke with a sharp gasp.
She shot upright, dragging the sheets with her.
For several seconds, she simply stared into the darkness.
Her heart was pounding.
Her breathing was shallow and uneven, and she couldn’t immediately recognize the room around her. The nightmare was still too close, clinging to the edges of her consciousness.
She looked toward the door.
Claire’s room was somewhere down the hall.
Elliot’s was farther around the corner.
Home.
Her breathing finally broke into a shaky exhale.
“Fuck…”
Beside her, Yoonchae stirred.
“Megan?”
Megan didn’t answer immediately.
Yoonchae was awake within seconds, her sleepiness disappearing the moment she saw Megan sitting rigidly upright.
“Hey…”
Her voice was quiet.
Gentle.
“Easy there, baby. Easy.”
Megan finally looked at her.
“I had a nightmare…”
“I know.”
Yoonchae sat up fully.
She didn’t ask Megan to explain it. She could already see that she was still trying to come back to herself.
Instead, she reached for the water on the nightstand.
“Here.”
Megan’s hands were trembling slightly.
Yoonchae noticed without comment.
She held the glass for her.
“Small sips.”
Megan drank.
Yoonchae waited patiently.
“Again.”
Another sip.
She gently steadied Megan’s chin as she drank, making sure she wasn’t rushing or swallowing too quickly while still breathing unevenly.
“Good girl.”
Megan lowered the glass.
“Thank you.”
Yoonchae put it down.
“You’re alright.”
Megan looked away.
“It felt real.”
“I know.”
“I couldn’t move.”
Yoonchae’s hand settled against her upper arm.
“You’re awake now.”
Megan nodded.
Yoonchae glanced toward the door.
“Claire and Elliot are asleep.”
That seemed to anchor Megan more than anything else.
She breathed out.
“Good.”
“They’re fine.”
“I know.”
“And you’re home.”
Megan nodded again.
Then, without another word, she shifted closer.
Yoonchae opened her arms.
Megan climbed into her lap and pulled the blanket around herself.
Yoonchae immediately adjusted it over her shoulders.
There was no infantilizing her, no treating her like she was incapable of handling herself.
Just quiet care.
The kind that had become instinctive after years of marriage.
Megan rested her head against Yoonchae’s shoulder.
For a while, they stayed like that.
Yoonchae rubbed slow circles across her back.
Megan’s breathing gradually settled.
Then her gaze wandered downward.
She noticed Yoonchae’s sleeve had ridden up slightly, revealing the defined muscle of her upper arm.
Megan stared.
Yoonchae noticed.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re staring.”
Megan’s mouth twitched.
“I was thinking.”
“That usually worries me.”
Megan lightly touched her sleeve.
“You’ve got strong arms.”
Yoonchae glanced down, and chuckled slightly.
“That’s your observation after waking up from a nightmare?”
“I contain multitudes.”
Yoonchae laughed softly.
Megan smiled.
Then she leaned back slightly.
“You know what I realized?”
“What?”
“Those arms have spent years carrying our children.”
Yoonchae smiled.
“Claire, mostly.”
“Tch. always been a daddy’s girl.”
“Very much so.”
Megan smiled.
“She used to fall asleep on you constantly.”
“She still does.”
“I know.”
Megan’s expression softened.
“And Elliot?”
Yoonchae immediately sighed.
“Elliot..”
Megan laughed.
“That boy has absolutely no fear.”
“He’s getting better.”
“He climbed onto a cabinet.”
“I remember.”
“I nearly lost my mind.”
“You did.”
“Ugh, Yoon! I’m his mother! What exactly am I supposed to do—stand there calmly while our ten-year-old decides the furniture is a fucking climbing wall?!”
Yoonchae laughed quietly.
“You’re right..”
“Obviously.”
Megan settled back against her.
“I swear, being a mom is just spending half your life saying, ‘Get down from there.’”
“And the other half?”
“‘Where are your shoes?’”
Yoonchae laughed.
Megan continued counting on her fingers.
“‘Did you eat?’ ‘Did you pack your homework?’ ‘Why is there a football in the kitchen?’ ‘Elliot, stop running.’ ‘Claire, you’re going to be late.’”
Yoonchae smiled.
“And somehow they still think you’re the fun parent.”
Megan looked offended.
“Obviously I’M the fun parent.”
“I’m the one they ask for help with homework.”
“That’s because you’re Dad.”
Yoonchae raised an eyebrow.
“And you’re Mom.”
“Exactly.”
Megan said it with absolute certainty.
Not celebrity.
Not pop star.
Not the woman whose name appeared on billboards across half the planet.
Mom.
That was the title she cared about most.
Yoonchae seemed to understand exactly what she meant.
“You’re a good mom.”
Megan’s expression softened.
“I know.”
Yoonchae laughed under her breath.
“There she is.”
“What?”
“That confidence.”
“You married it.”
“I did.”
“And you’re still here.”
“Always.”
Megan smiled and tucked herself closer.
Then, after a comfortable silence, she murmured,
“You know…”
“Hmm?”
“I really did make an excellent decision marrying a heart surgeon.”
Yoonchae’s eyebrow lifted.
“Because I can keep you calm after a nightmare?”
Megan smiled.
“That too.”
“That too?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
Yoonchae studied her face.
“Megan.”
“What?”
“You’re making that face.”
“What face?”
“The one where you’re about to say something ridiculous.”
Megan looked completely innocent.
“I was just merely appreciating my life choices.”
“Right…”
“Very thoroughly.”
Yoonchae sighed, fighting a smile.
“You’re insufferable.”
“And yet you’re still holding me.”
“I am.”
“So clearly I’m doing something right.”
Yoonchae shook her head.
“Ugh, go to sleep.”
Megan settled more comfortably into her lap.
“Fine.”
A few seconds passed.
“Yoon?”
“Hm?”
“Do you think being married to a pop star has benefits?”
Yoonchae looked down at her.
“I’m afraid to ask.”
Megan smiled.
“Good answer.”
“Sleep.”
“Bossy, much?”
“You started this.”
“I know, i know..”
Megan closed her eyes.
Yoonchae continued gently rubbing her back, occasionally smoothing Megan’s hair away from her face.
Eventually, the last trace of tension left Megan’s shoulders.
She was asleep again.
Yoonchae stayed awake for another few minutes, listening to her breathing.
Then she glanced toward the hallway.
Two sleeping children.
One exhausted wife.
A house that was finally quiet.
She smiled faintly and settled back against the pillows.
Tomorrow, Megan would be Mom again.
She’d wake Claire for school, remind Elliot where he’d left his shoes, complain about someone leaving a backpack in the hallway, and somehow still find time to be one of the biggest pop stars on the planet.
But tonight, she didn’t have to be any of that.
Tonight, she was simply Megan.
And Yoonchae was right there. Always.