Chapter 70

The Kim house smelled like dust, old books, and something faintly sweet—like memories that had settled into the walls over time.

Jennie stood in the middle of the living room with her hands on her hips, already regretting every life decision that led her here.

“I knew this was a bad idea,” she muttered.

Across the room, Lisa was kneeling beside a half-opened storage box, eyes sparkling like she had just discovered treasure. “Are you kidding? This is amazing. It’s like a time capsule.”

“That ‘time capsule’ is my childhood,” Jennie shot back, already walking over in mild panic. “And some things are not meant to be seen again.”

From the kitchen doorway, Mama Kim chuckled softly, wiping her hands on a towel. “Oh, let her look, Jennie. It’s about time someone appreciated how adorable you were.”

“I was not adorable,” Jennie protested immediately.

Lisa froze mid-motion, slowly turning her head toward her wife with the most dramatic expression possible. “You’re telling me… you were not adorable as a child?”

Jennie crossed her arms. “Correct.”

Lisa gasped like she’d just been personally betrayed. “Lies. Slander. I refuse to believe it.”

Mama Kim didn’t even try to hide her grin. “Lisa, there’s a box in the hallway closet. Bottom shelf. You might want to start there.”

Jennie’s eyes widened. “Mom—!”

Too late.

Lisa was already up and gone in a flash.

“Traitor,” Jennie whispered, pointing accusingly at her mother.

Mama Kim only laughed. “You married her. That’s your problem now.”

—

A few seconds later, the sound of a box being dragged echoed from the hallway.

“OH MY GOD.”

Jennie closed her eyes. “I’m going to pass away.”

Lisa came back into the living room carrying a dusty box like it was the most precious thing in the world. She plopped down on the floor and opened it carefully, like she was unsealing something sacred.

Inside were albums. Stacks and stacks of them.

Lisa looked up slowly, eyes wide. “You had albums?”

Jennie groaned. “Everyone had albums.”

“But this many?” Lisa flipped one open, already gasping. “JENNIE—”

“NO.”

Too late again.

Lisa burst into laughter, loud and bright, her whole body shaking. “You had bowl-cut bangs?!”

Jennie lunged forward. “Give it to me!”

But Lisa held it out of reach, easily dodging as she flipped the album toward Mama Kim. “Mama Kim, look at this!”

Mama Kim leaned over, immediately laughing too. “Ah, that was her kindergarten phase.”

“I hate both of you,” Jennie muttered, flopping face-first onto the couch.

Lisa was unstoppable now.

Each page was a new discovery, a new treasure—tiny Jennie in oversized sweaters, Jennie pouting with chocolate smeared across her cheeks, Jennie asleep hugging a stuffed toy twice her size.

Lisa’s laughter slowly softened into something quieter.

Warmer.

“Oh…” she whispered, fingers brushing gently over one of the photos. “She was so small…”

Jennie peeked up from the couch, suspicious.

Lisa wasn’t laughing anymore.

She was smiling.

Softly.

Like she was seeing something precious.

“She still is,” Mama Kim said gently.

Lisa nodded absentmindedly. “Yeah… but look at her…”

Jennie pushed herself up slightly, curiosity getting the better of her. “What?”

Lisa didn’t answer right away. She just kept turning pages, slower now, her eyes lingering on every picture.

And then—

She stopped.

Completely.

“…wait.”

Jennie immediately stiffened. “What is it?”

Lisa didn’t respond.

She just stared.

Mama Kim leaned closer, then broke into the biggest smile yet. “Ah… that one.”

Jennie shot up. “WHAT one?”

Lisa slowly lifted the photo from the album like it was something fragile.

And then—

She lost it.

Not laughing.

Not teasing.

Just… completely gone.

“Oh my God,” she breathed, voice soft and full of disbelief. “Oh my God, oh my God—”

Jennie rushed over, trying to snatch it. “Give me that—!”

But Lisa turned away, holding it to her chest dramatically. “NO. This is mine now.”

“LISA.”

Mama Kim laughed again. “Show her, Lisa.”

Lisa turned the photo around.

And Jennie froze.

It was exactly as Mama Kim described it years ago—

A tiny three-year-old Jennie, cheeks puffed out, holding a slightly squished mandu in both hands. She was wearing a fluffy bear onesie, the hood half slipping off her head, revealing soft baby hair. And her smile—

Her wide, gummy smile—

was so bright, so pure, it looked like it could melt the entire world.

Jennie’s face instantly turned red.

“Give it back,” she said weakly.

Lisa didn’t move.

She just stared at it again.

And again.

And again.

“…you looked like this?” Lisa whispered.

Jennie covered her face. “I said give it back.”

Lisa looked up at her slowly.

And Jennie’s breath caught.

Because Lisa’s expression—

It wasn’t teasing.

It wasn’t playful.

It was something deeper.

Something that made Jennie’s heart skip.

“You were the cutest baby in the entire universe,” Lisa said softly.

Jennie groaned. “Stop—”

“No, seriously,” Lisa insisted, standing up now, still holding the picture like it was priceless. “Look at you. Your cheeks—your smile—this stupid little mandu—”

“It’s not stupid!”

Lisa laughed gently. “You were holding it like it was the most important thing in the world.”

Jennie mumbled, “Maybe it was…”

Lisa’s smile softened even more.

And then—

Without even thinking—

She said it.

Out loud.

“I wish to have a daughter who looks like you, hon.”

Silence.

Complete silence.

Jennie blinked.

Mama Kim paused.

And Lisa—

Lisa realized what she just said.

Her eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t take it back.

Instead, she looked at Jennie again, softer this time.

“I mean it,” she added quietly.

Jennie’s face went from red to something softer. Warmer.

“Lisa…” she whispered.

Lisa stepped closer, gently holding up the picture between them.

“Her smile,” Lisa murmured. “Your smile… it’s the same.”

Jennie swallowed.

Lisa reached out with her free hand and gently cupped Jennie’s cheek, her thumb brushing lightly over it.

“Still just as soft,” she teased softly.

Jennie huffed, but didn’t pull away. “You’re being cheesy.”

“Only for you.”

Mama Kim quietly slipped out of the room, giving them space.

Lisa leaned her forehead against Jennie’s.

“I think I just fell in love with you all over again,” she admitted.

Jennie laughed softly, shy now. “Because of a baby picture?”

Lisa shook her head. “No.”

She tapped the photo gently.

“Because this little girl grew up into the person I love the most.”

Jennie’s eyes softened.

“…you’re unfair,” she whispered.

Lisa grinned. “You married me.”

Jennie rolled her eyes, but her lips curved into a small smile.

Lisa looked at the picture one more time… then carefully slipped it into her pocket.

Jennie narrowed her eyes. “You’re not stealing that.”

“I’m not stealing,” Lisa said innocently. “I’m preserving.”

“That’s stealing.”

Lisa kissed her cheek quickly. “Too late.”

Jennie tried to look annoyed.

She really did.

But as Lisa wrapped an arm around her, holding her close—

She couldn’t help but smile.

Because somewhere between the teasing, the chaos, and the dusty old albums—

Lisa had looked at her like she was something precious.

Something worth falling in love with—

Again.