Chapter 36

The bet started over something completely unserious—like most things between Lisa and Jennie.

“Five,” Jennie declared confidently, arms crossed as she leaned against the kitchen counter, her eyes fixed on their very pregnant golden retriever, Mocha, who was currently sprawled across the cool tiles like a fluffy loaf of bread.

Lisa, who had been kneeling beside Mocha and gently rubbing her belly, looked up with a dramatic gasp. “Five? Babe, that’s way too low. Look at her! She’s basically a cloud with legs now.”

Mocha wagged her tail lazily at the attention, tongue lolling out happily.

Jennie narrowed her eyes. “You’re overestimating. She’s just fluffy.”

Lisa pressed both hands dramatically to her chest. “Fluffy? That is not just fluff. That is potential. I’m saying… eight.”

“Eight?!” Jennie straightened, scandalized. “Lisa, that’s not a litter, that’s a football team.”

Lisa grinned, leaning forward conspiratorially. “You just don’t believe in her.”

Mocha let out a soft “woof,” as if personally offended on Lisa’s behalf.

Jennie pointed at the dog. “Don’t bring her into this. She doesn’t even know what we’re talking about.”

Mocha wagged her tail harder.

Lisa smirked. “She knows I have faith in her.”

Jennie rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the smile tugging at her lips. “Fine. Eight versus five. We’re doing this properly then.”

“Oh?” Lisa’s eyes lit up. “What are the stakes?”

Jennie pretended to think, tapping her chin. “Loser has to do whatever the winner wants. No complaints.”

Lisa’s grin widened. “Anything?”

“Anything.”

Lisa extended her hand immediately. “You’re on, Kim Jennie.”

Jennie took it without hesitation. “Prepare to lose, Lalisa.”

They shook on it like it was a million-dollar deal instead of a bet about puppies.

—

The next few days were… intense.

Lisa became Mocha’s self-appointed “pregnancy coach.”

She read articles. Watched videos. Even talked to Mocha like she was preparing for a marathon.

“You’ve got this, okay?” Lisa whispered one night, lying beside Mocha on the living room rug. “Eight. We’re aiming for eight. Don’t let Jennie underestimate you.”

Mocha blinked at her, then licked her cheek.

“Exactly,” Lisa nodded seriously. “That’s the spirit.”

Across the room, Jennie sat on the couch, watching the entire thing unfold with fond exasperation.

“You’re influencing the outcome,” Jennie called out.

Lisa looked offended. “I am supporting her.”

“You’re brainwashing her.”

Mocha barked softly.

“See?” Lisa pointed. “She agrees with me.”

Jennie laughed, shaking her head. “You’re ridiculous.”

But later that night, when Lisa fell asleep with her arm draped over Mocha, Jennie quietly joined them on the floor.

She gently stroked Mocha’s head. “Five is perfect, okay? Not too many. Just enough.”

Mocha wagged her tail again, as if agreeing to both sides just to keep the peace.

—

When the big day finally came, chaos followed.

Lisa was pacing.

Jennie was trying to stay calm.

Mocha… was doing her thing like the queen she was.

“I think it’s happening,” Lisa whispered loudly, which somehow made it less of a whisper and more of a dramatic announcement.

Jennie grabbed her hand. “Relax. The vet said everything’s normal.”

“I am relaxed,” Lisa said, while very clearly not being relaxed.

“You’re walking in circles.”

“I walk when I’m relaxed!”

“You’re wearing two different socks.”

Lisa froze, looked down, and then gasped. “This is not the time for fashion criticism, Jennie!”

Despite everything, Jennie laughed.

Hours passed, filled with nervous energy, soft encouragements, and Lisa alternating between panic and emotional speeches directed at Mocha.

“You’re doing amazing, sweet girl. I’m so proud of you. Jennie doesn’t believe in you, but I do—”

“I believe in her!” Jennie protested.

“Not enough,” Lisa shot back.

Mocha gave a soft whine, demanding attention.

Both of them immediately knelt beside her.

“Sorry, baby,” they said in unison.

—

Then, finally—

The first puppy arrived.

Lisa’s jaw dropped. “Oh my god.”

Jennie’s eyes softened instantly. “She’s so tiny…”

Mocha licked her pup gently, completely focused and calm.

Lisa looked like she might cry. “Jennie, we’re grandparents.”

Jennie snorted. “That’s not how it works.”

“Don’t ruin this moment.”

—

Second puppy.

“Two!” Lisa announced proudly.

Jennie crossed her arms. “Still far from eight.”

Lisa pointed at her. “We’re just getting started.”

—

Third.

Jennie smirked. “Okay, I admit, that’s already more than I expected.”

Lisa gasped dramatically. “So you’re saying I might win?”

“Don’t push it.”

—

Fourth.

Lisa clutched Jennie’s arm. “We’re halfway to greatness.”

Jennie rolled her eyes but squeezed her hand back.

—

Fifth.

Jennie’s face lit up. “Five! That’s my number!”

Lisa groaned. “It’s not over yet!”

—

Sixth.

Lisa jumped up. “YES! I’M WINNING!”

Jennie stared at the tiny pup, then at Lisa. “Okay… I didn’t see that coming.”

Lisa did a small victory dance. “Never underestimate Mocha!”

Mocha barked softly, clearly pleased with herself.

—

Then…

They waited.

And waited.

Lisa was practically vibrating with anticipation.

“Come on,” she whispered. “Just two more. Just two more and I win forever.”

Jennie leaned against her shoulder. “You’re already insufferable with one win pending.”

“Imagine me with a guaranteed win.”

“I don’t want to.”

—

But after a while, it became clear—

Six was the final count.

Lisa froze.

Jennie blinked.

They both looked at Mocha, who seemed very satisfied and very done.

“…Six,” Jennie said slowly.

Lisa nodded. “…Six.”

Jennie tilted her head. “That means…”

Lisa groaned dramatically, falling back onto the floor. “It’s a tie.”

Jennie burst into laughter. “Oh my god, it is.”

Lisa covered her face. “I was so close. So close to greatness.”

Jennie leaned down, gently pulling Lisa up. “You aimed too high.”

Lisa pouted. “And you aimed too low.”

They looked at each other… then at the six tiny, squirming puppies cuddled against Mocha.

Jennie smiled softly. “Six is perfect.”

Lisa sighed, then smiled too. “Yeah… it is.”

—

A moment of silence passed.

Then Lisa’s eyes sparkled again.

“…Since it’s a tie,” she said slowly.

Jennie immediately narrowed her eyes. “No.”

Lisa grinned. “We both have to do what the other wants.”

“That’s not how bets work.”

“It is now.”

Jennie crossed her arms. “And what exactly do you want?”

Lisa leaned closer, her voice dropping playfully. “I want a week where you say yes to everything I ask.”

Jennie scoffed. “Absolutely not.”

Lisa pouted. “But it’s a tie. It’s fair.”

Jennie considered it… then smirked. “Fine. But you have to do the same.”

Lisa blinked. “…Wait.”

Jennie’s grin widened. “A whole week. No refusing.”

Lisa groaned. “I walked into that, didn’t I?”

“Completely.”

—

Later that night, as they lay in bed with Mocha resting nearby and six tiny puppies softly squeaking in their sleep, Lisa wrapped her arms around Jennie.

“You know,” Lisa murmured, “we should do this again next time.”

Jennie raised an eyebrow. “Another bet?”

Lisa nodded. “Yeah. But I’m choosing a smarter number next time.”

Jennie chuckled softly, snuggling closer. “Or you could just admit I’m always right.”

Lisa scoffed. “Don’t push your luck, Kim Jennie.”

Jennie smiled against her shoulder. “Too late.”

And in the quiet warmth of their home—filled with soft puppy noises, gentle laughter, and a whole lot of love—the bet didn’t really matter anymore.

Because somehow, they both already felt like they won.