Chapter 18

Fastian came marching into the living room as if he were on a secret mission, clutching the food container with left hands like it was treasure stolen from a dragon’s nest. “Phi Rox! Please open this container,” he said, almost dramatic, and shoved it toward Fosbein.

Fosbein took it silently. He popped the lid open with a soft click, letting the faint aroma of cold cake drift out.

On the couch, Fahnareeh lay sprawled like a miniature queen, her chin cushioned on a pillow while her eyes clung to the cartoon playing on the TV. “When is mommy going to wake up?” she asked, her voice drowsy but hopeful.

“Don’t know,” Fosbein replied, not even looking up.

Fastian, however, was already plotting chaos. He grabbed a slice of cake and held it in front of Fahnareeh’s eyes, blocking her view of the TV with his back body.

“Phi Tian,” Fahnareeh protested.

“What?!” Fastian turned around, eyebrows raised, innocence painted all over his face. “I didn’t mess with you.”

“Liar!” Fahnareeh shot up, her glare sharp enough to slice cake in half.

Fastian spotted the remote next to her and without a shred of hesitation, swooped it up with one quick swipe. Fahnareeh gasped as if he had just stolen the crown jewels.

“Phi Tian!!!” she shouted, little fists balled at her sides.

Fosbein inhaled the way adults do after a long week. “Hey! Don’t make noise! Mommy will wake up later!”

Fastian stuck out his tongue like a triumphant goblin.

Just then, Becky appeared behind them like a weary guardian spirit. She snatched the remote from Fastian’s hand before he could even blink.

Then flick a gentle but firm tap to his forehead.

“You are very naughty!” Becky reprimanded, though the softness in her tone made the scolding feel like a warm cloud instead of thunder.

“Mommy!” Fahnareeh jumped off the couch and wrapped herself around Becky’s legs like a vine. Becky scooped her up, pressing an affectionate kiss onto her plump cheeks.

“Babies, today let’s have dinner at a restaurant,” Becky announced as she set Fahnareeh back down.

“Mommy, I miss your cooking,” Fosbein said with the seriousness of a businessman presenting a complaint form.

“Me too! Your food is the most delicious in this world!” Fastian declared, raising his hands dramatically.

“We’re out of stock at home, boys,” Becky replied dryly.

They nodded as though food scarcity were a solemn destiny.

Soon, Becky ushered them out the door, unaware that the universe had quietly prepared chaos disguised as coincidence.

—

At the Restaurant

The warm hum of customers, clinking glasses, and sizzling pans filled the space. Becky led her triplets in, scanning the area for an empty spot.

But before she could say anything, Fahnareeh tugged her sleeve sharply. “Mommy, Aunt Freen is there!”

Becky stiffened. A shadow crossed her expression like a cloud swallowing the moon. She saw Freen seated with Milk’s family, chatting lightly.

“We’ll eat upstairs,” Becky said immediately. She grabbed Fahnareeh’s and Fastian’s hands before their little legs could sprint toward Freen’s arms  because she knew they would, especially Fahnareeh.

They settled upstairs. The air felt quieter, the lights dimmer, and Becky exhaled slowly as she sat down.

“Babies, anything you really want to eat?”

“Fried prawn!” Fosbein and Fahnareeh chorused.

“I want tiramisu cake,” Fastian added with a dreamy sigh.

“We’ll get it for dessert.”

“Oh…” He nodded, slightly defeated but still hopeful.

Becky placed their orders. For a moment, she allowed herself to relax, basking in the familiar, comforting chaos of her three children chattering about random things such as dinosaurs, ants carrying crumbs, why clouds don’t fall, who farted yesterday.

Then she leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Tomorrow, accompany mommy to buy food. Is that okay with you, Rox?”

Fosbein blinked. “Tian and Nareeh aren’t coming?”

“No,” Becky said simply.

“Why?” Fahnareeh pouted so dramatically it could win awards.

“Mommy will explain later. Now, whose turn is it to tell the story?”

“Me,” Fosbein volunteered.

“What story?”

“Can I ask a question instead?”

“Of course.”

He inhaled deeply. “When is daddy coming home?”

Fastian slammed a thumb up. “A question I like!”

Becky froze. Her heartbeat dropped into her stomach.

“Maybe later,” Fahnareeh answered for her. “Mommy said daddy is busy making money for us.”

“I don’t want that answer anymore,” Fosbein said.

Becky opened her mouth but fate, intrusive as ever, arrived first.

Freen walked up to their table. Becky stiffened. Fahnareeh waved excitedly. “Hi, Aunt Freen!”

“Mommy, continue,” Fosbein urged.

“Mommy wants to ask… do you three really want a daddy?”

“Yes, Mommy!” Fahnareeh said, bouncing slightly.

“We’ll talk after eating,” Becky whispered.

Their food arrived, and Freen, bold as ever, sat beside Fahnareeh without permission. Becky sent her a glare sharp enough to slice through marble, but Freen ignored it, calmly offering a spoonful of veggies to Fahnareeh.

After dinner, when plates were empty and cups heavy with condensation, Becky decided to tell the truth. Her heart trembled like a lantern in the wind, but she spoke anyway.

“Aunt Freen is the daddy of you three.”

Silence.

Then..

“Becky, are you…” Freen’s voice faltered.

“It’s better than my friends telling me to get married for the triplets,” Becky said sharply, cutting her off.

“Aunt Freen is our daddy?!” Fosbein gasped, staring at Freen with eyes that mirrored hers too closely.

“Why daddy didn’t come home before this?” Fahnareeh asked Freen directly.

Becky jumped in. “Your daddy is busy, right, Freen?” Her eyes pleaded to just nodded her head.

Freen nodded slowly. “Your mommy is right.”

Fastian narrowed his eyes, evaluating her like a small detective. “Is that true?”

“Of course, Tian,” Freen answered, steady but uncertain.

Fastian clapped his hands together. “Then let’s go home! I want to show my toys!”

And just like that, destiny tugged them all back to the house.

But at the doorway, Becky stopped Freen with a hand on her arm.

Her voice dropped low, tight, trembling under its own weight.

“We need to talk. Now.”

The night air thickened around them, as if even the wind paused to listen.

“Daddy,mommy! Let’s go inside,”  said Fosbein.

“You go inside first. Mommy wants to talk to your daddy first.”