Snow flurried softly against the windows of the Jung household, dusting the porch steps and pine trees in the front yard with a fresh layer of white. Inside, warmth pulsed from every corner—candlelight flickered in gold holders across the dinner table, and the scent of bulgogi and kalbi mingled with Maureen's baked ham and cinnamon-glazed Filipino desserts.
The living room was its usual holiday mix of half-chaos, half-comfort—someone folding napkins, someone else setting trays of tteokguk on warming plates, and more than one person sneaking a sip of warm soju between tasks.
At the stove, Lexie tugged the sleeves of her knit sweater over her hands as she stirred the last of the pancit canton in the wok. Her eyes drifted—again—to the clock on the wall. 10:42pm.
"Mom, do we have more lime?" she called.
"In the fridge, bottom drawer," Maureen answered, balancing a stack of bibingka on a tray while fending off Lexter's not-so-subtle attempt to steal one.
"Lexter," Lexie warned, without turning. "Don't make me assign you to dishes."
He groaned, retreating toward the living room where Matthew and Xander were in the thick of another round of their holiday Monopoly war. Ethan sat cross-legged between them, diligently counting Matthew's cash pile even though he clearly had no idea what a mortgage was.
The Lees had arrived that afternoon, arms full of rice cakes, kimchi jars, and wine bottles. Woori-noona had brought handmade mandu, insisting Lexie freeze half for future cravings. Seungmin and Haejun were already on their second glass of red, swapping university stories over the sound of the MBC Gayo Daejejeon broadcast in the background.
Mark, though—just like on Christmas—was still not here.
Lexie turned off the heat and set the spatula aside, the kitchen's warmth brushing her cheeks as she passed through the hallway. She paused by her room. Ethan's hanbok was laid neatly across the bed, navy jeogori and silver pants pressed crisp from earlier. In her closet, Mark's hanbok—smuggled in by Woori eomoni last week with a sly "just in case"—still hung untouched. The sight coaxed a small, involuntary smile from her.
"Hey."
Alexis appeared beside her, two mugs of hot chocolate in hand. She passed one over, bumping her shoulder in the process. "Stop checking the clock."
"I'm not."
"You are. You've been pacing like a general's wife waiting for news from the front lines."
Lexie fought a smile. "He's not—"
"Lex." Alexis arched a brow. "He may not have asked, but we all know what this is."
Lexie didn't answer, but her silence was enough. She took a sip of chocolate, the heat loosening her grip on the mug.
"He said he'd try to leave right after the award show," she murmured.
"And he will," Alexis said without hesitation. "It's Mark. You two don't need to say it out loud for it to be real."
That made her exhale, just a little. He'd promised—so there was no reason to worry.
* * *
By 11:30pm, the flow of people shifted toward the living room. Jackets came out, sparklers were distributed, and noisemakers passed from hand to hand.
In her room, Lexie crouched to help Ethan into his hanbok. He turned with a seriousness far beyond his years.
"Mama?"
"Yeah?"
"Daddy's coming, right?"
She met his gaze, steady and sure. "Of course, love. He promised."
He bit his lip. "Even if he's not here for midnight?"
"He said he'd be here before morning." She smoothed the collar of his jeogori. "And remember what he told you? Never break promises."
Ethan nodded, carrying that hope the way only children could—quiet, but bright.
The countdown felt more ceremonial than exciting—families gathered in jackets by the porch, mugs in hand, sparklers lit and held like stars between their fingers.
The TV inside ticked down as MBC played confetti graphics, hosts grinning in sequined suits.
"Three! Two! One!"
"새해 복 많이 받으세요!"
"Happy New Year!"
The air exploded with small cheers, clinks of mugs, and cheers from the kids as fireworks launched in the distance. Ethan covered his ears at first, then laughed as Xander spun him in a circle.
Lexie stood on the steps, surrounded by warmth, yet her eyes scanned the empty street just beyond the gates.
* * *
It was well past 2:00am when the night had thinned to soft chatter and the slow shuffle of goodbyes. Lexter walked Woori eomoni and Seungmin abeoji home next door. Ethan, warm and limp from sleep, had folded himself against her lap.
"Let's get you to bed, love," she whispered, carrying him to the guest room.
When she returned, the kitchen was clean—Alexis's doing, no doubt—and the only sound was the refrigerator's hum. The clock read 2:57am.
She smiled wryly. Of course he'd cut it close.
Upstairs, she settled under a blanket with her reading lamp on, flipping through the photo album Ethan had made at school. Crayon sketches of the three of them holding hands. Fireworks, bright orange scribbles in the sky. Her eyes grew heavy, but she fought to keep them open.
* * *
The front door clicked open at 3:19am. Snow clung to Mark's hoodie as he stepped inside.
Lexie was already halfway down the stairs, blanket over her shoulders. She stopped at the landing, looking at him in the stillness.
Then Lexie said, voice gentle and teasing, "Cutting it close, Mr. Lee."
Mark smiled. "I promised, didn't I?"
She didn't run. Didn't scold. Just descended the stairs and stood in front of him, arms crossed over her blanket. "Are you hungry?"
"Starving."
"I saved you some pancit and tteokguk."
"God bless you."
They moved into the kitchen, the quiet between them easy. She reheated the soup while he watched her with the softened look of someone finally home.
"How was the show?" she asked.
"Chaotic. Jaehyun lost his belt right before we went on stage."
She laughed, shaking her head. "Figures."
He hesitated over his spoon. "Did Ethan stay up?"
"Until about 1:30. In his hanbok. Said it wouldn't be New Year without his dad."
Her fingers brushed his knuckles, just lightly. "He'll be happy you made it. So am I."
Mark's eyes held hers, something unspoken but certain passing between them.
"I want to be here for more of these," he said.
"You will," she replied. "We'll figure it out."
When they went upstairs, Ethan was curled in his usual spot, breathing evenly. Mark kissed his head before sliding into the space between them.
Lexie was already sitting cross-legged on the other side, her hair spilling loose over her shoulders. She patted the space between them without a word.
Mark hesitated for half a heartbeat—then toed off his shoes and slid in, the mattress dipping under his weight. Ethan stirred just enough to mumble something incoherent before tucking himself into Mark's side.
By the time the room settled into stillness, Lexie had shifted closer too, her knee brushing his beneath the blankets. It was warm. Easy. The kind of quiet you didn't want to break.
And so, like it had been happening for years, the three of them fell asleep in the same bed—barely labels, no explanations, just the unshakable knowing that this was home.
~~ 끝 ~~