It had been a long time since I'd stepped foot in my childhood home's living room.
For the past thirty minutes, I had been sitting there on my knees like a common criminal, head bowed low.
The reason was simple.
It was all because of my mother, who sat on the sofa directly across from me, arms crossed, piercing me with a gaze as sharp as a blade.
Beside her sat my wife, looking quite troubled as she held Bronie in her lap. Next to the sofa, Seele stood shifting her weight from foot to foot, her eyes darting nervously between my mother and me.
"Seele, please take Bronie to the room where we left our bags."
Perhaps pitying Seele's distress, my wife spoke with a bittersweet smile. Seele cast a fleeting, worried glance toward me.
"...Understood."
I gave a slight nod in agreement. Only then did Seele take Bronie from my wife's arms and head toward the guest room.
Bronie, perhaps sensing the gravity of the atmosphere, remained quiet in Seele's embrace. She looked back at me over Seele's shoulder, then suddenly gave me a bright, cheerful smile and waved her hand.
"Ahem!"
I found myself instinctively starting to smile and wave back, but the sharp clearing of a throat from right in front of me forced me to snap back into a rigid posture.
"So."
"Yes."
"Is what you just said the truth?"
"...Yes, it is."
"Sigh..."
At my serious response, Mother uncrossed her arms and let out a heavy, weary sigh.
As the person who raised me, she must have realized immediately that I wasn't lying. For her, it would be difficult to dismiss this as a simple affair.
After all, the relationship between my wife and Seele wasn't just 'not bad'—they looked incredibly close, with my wife even taking care of Seele like family.
More than anything, the fact that my wife had remained silent even when I proudly declared in front of her that Seele was someone I intended to marry was the ultimate proof.
"I trust you understand the weight of your own words."
"...I do."
"If I followed my heart, I would kick you out of this house this instant, but..."
"M-Mother!"
My wife shouted in alarm, looking at Mother as if to restrain her. Mother let out another sigh before continuing.
"...Since my dear daughter-in-law is reacting this way, you should be grateful you're not out on the street yet."
"Thank you."
"Whew..."
As I replied, my wife placed a hand on her chest and exhaled a very visible sigh of relief.
Her emotional range had become so much richer compared to the old days. Every time I saw it, it filled me with a mixture of surprise and genuine joy.
Back then, my wife was closer to a machine than a human.
Actually, she wasn't just a machine; she was more like a broken one. Kiana and Senior Mei used to be so pained just watching her.
That was why Kiana, even while pretending not to care, would constantly pick play-fights and trade barbs with her—deliberately giving Bronya a reason to react, to feel, and to express herself.
...Though toward the end, I think they were actually just arguing for real.
Senior Mei, on the other hand, worked to create a warm atmosphere where Bronya could feel secure and at peace, wrapping her in affection and care.
...Come to think of it, that felt less like a 'Big Sis' and more like maternal instinct, didn't it?
As for me, I didn't do anything particularly special.
I simply sat by Bronya's side.
Whatever the occasion, I was there to listen, to help when asked, or to play if she wanted company.
That was why I was so genuinely shocked when my wife confessed to me back in the Sea of Quanta.
I had never thought of her in that way.
My feelings were closer to those of a protective older brother looking after a younger sibling.
But from the moment I received her heartfelt confession, I stopped viewing her through that lens.
It would have been disrespectful to keep seeing her as a sister or just a teammate when she had bared her heart to me as a woman.
I had to look at her as a woman and decide whether to accept or decline. I had to understand my own heart.
...Wait, that's not what's important right now.
"Dear."
"Yes, Mother?" my wife replied.
"Are you truly alright with this?"
At Mother's question, my wife's eyes trembled for a moment before she closed them. When she opened them again, her gaze was firm. She looked Mother straight in the eye and nodded.
"Yes."
Seeing that resolve, Mother sighed again and turned her focus back to me.
"So."
"Yes, Ma'am."
"Why on earth did you cheat when you have such a wonderful wife and daughter?"
And there it was. The moment of truth.
I closed my eyes. I had no intention of making excuses.
Regardless of the circumstances, what I did was practically no different from infidelity. Even if it started as a drunken mistake, and even if there was an element of blackmail later on, the fact that I chose to continue the relationship instead of coming clean immediately meant I was already beyond redemption.
"Looking at your face, I take it there's a story behind this."
"...Yes."
"Then let me ask you this. Was it an accident, or was it intentional?"
She spoke with a conviction that said she would not let me leave without an answer. Recalling the memory of that day left a bitter taste in my mouth.
That error, born of alcohol. I finally understood why people call liquor the enemy of mankind.
"M-Mother..."
My wife tried to intervene, sensing the tension, but Mother raised a hand to silence her.
"Forgive me, dear, but as the parent who raised this boy, this is something I absolutely must know."
"...I understand."
My wife's lips thinned, and she fell silent. She knew where my stubbornness came from—I got it from Mother.
"...Before I answer, may I ask how you'll respond to either case?"
"Do you really think you're in a position to negotiate?"
"Ah, haha..."
I scratched the back of my head awkwardly. Mother glared at me for a moment, then glanced at my worried wife and sighed.
She seemed to realize that my tactless question was actually an attempt to gauge the situation for my wife's sake.
"Since my daughter-in-law doesn't seem that angry, I won't be too harsh."
"And that means...?"
"If it was an accident, I'll slap your left cheek."
"And if it was intentional...?"
"Then I'll slap your right cheek."
I let out a hollow laugh. Either way, I was getting slapped.
Well, to be fair, I deserved it. No matter how you looked at it, I was in the wrong.
"To be honest—"
"Tell me."
"...It was both."
The next instant, I was struck across both cheeks simultaneously with perfect, clinical precision.