WORSHIPPED BY MY DAD'S BESTFRIEND 의 모든 챕터: 챕터 101 - 챕터 110

SAESHA POVBy morning, the house smelled faintly of peppermint and medicine. The fever had broken sometime before dawn; the damp towel that Alex had been changing every half hour now lay forgotten on the couch arm.Elian slept, finally still. His cheeks were flushed but not crimson anymore, his breath soft and even. The small rise and fall of his chest was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.I sat beside him, one hand resting over his blanket, too afraid to move it away. For hours I’d watched every twitch, every sigh, terrified that the fever would spike again. Now, the tension left my body all at once, leaving behind a strange mix of dizziness and gratitude.Alex came from the kitchen carrying two mugs. He looked wrecked — dark circles under his eyes, hair sticking up everywhere — but there was a small, tired smile on his face. He handed me one mug and crouched near Elian.“Cool,” he murmured, brushing his lips across our son’s forehead. “Finally.”I nodded, the word catc

SAESHA POV The house had never been this busy. Boxes lined the hallway, ribboned with tape and tiny scribbles in Alex’s handwriting — “nursery,” “baby clothes,” “don’t lose the screws again.” Every room smelled faintly of paint, baby lotion, and the cinnamon candle Clara insisted would “keep good energy.” The twins were coming soon. Any day now, Clara said. And every day that passed, Alex added one more thing to the list of “necessary” items: extra blankets, another monitor, a rocking chair that squeaked but he swore he could fix. I sat on the nursery rug, legs folded awkwardly around my huge belly, sorting through a mountain of onesies that all looked identical to me. “Pink or yellow?” I called. Alex’s voice floated from inside one of the closets. “Both. They’ll spit up on everything anyway.” I laughed, shaking my head. “You sound like Clara.” He appeared in the doorway, hair messy, a small streak of paint on his jaw. “She’s rubbing off on me. Scary thought.” He crouched

SAESHA POV The house felt different the moment we stepped inside. Not louder exactly, not quieter either — just fuller. Like every wall, every breath, had been waiting for this day. The twins came home wrapped in soft white blankets Clara had gifted, each with their initials embroidered in tiny letters. The girl, Aira — our calm little heartbeat — and the boy, Aran — smaller but already so curious, always turning his head toward every sound. Elian trailed behind Alex, half skipping, half serious, holding a stuffed toy like it was an offering. “My babies’ home,” he kept repeating, proud as a parade. Alex unlocked the door with his elbow, carrying both car seats. I followed carefully, slower, my body still weak from recovery but my heart so full it almost hurt. The moment we stepped into the living room, Elian threw his arms out dramatically. “This house big enough for five now!” he announced. Clara, who had come along to help us settle, chuckled. “And the chaos begins.” -

SAESHA POV It was amazing how a few weeks could change everything. The house that once echoed with newborn cries now filled with softer sounds — coos, giggles, babbles that melted even the most exhausted hearts. Aira laughed first, a bright little sound that came out of nowhere one morning while Alex was making silly faces. She laughed so hard she startled herself — and Aran — and soon both were squealing in tiny fits of joy. Elian clapped his hands, eyes wide. “They laugh like me!” Alex scooped him up, spinning him in the air. “That’s because you’re the fun one.” I leaned on the kitchen counter, smiling. “You’re going to have a lot of competition soon, mister.” Elian blinked at me, confused. “No. I’m the funny.” Alex grinned. “Oh, that’s definitely true.” But I could see it — the small flicker of something behind his grin. He loved the twins. He really did. He helped fetch bottles, handed me diapers, kissed their foreheads before bed. But lately, when I cradled one of t

SAESHA POV The house was finally still. The kind of stillness that felt earned — not silence, but peace. The twins were asleep, curled up in their cribs with matching expressions that almost made me laugh. Elian had passed out mid-story, one hand on his toy truck, mouth open in that deep toddler sleep that nothing short of thunder could break. I stood by the door for a moment, just watching them all, my heart too full to move. Then I tiptoed out and found Alex in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with the faintest smile and two mugs of tea waiting. He held one out without a word. “Peace offering,” he said softly. I took it, our fingers brushing. “From what battle?” He smiled. “The daily one. Against chaos.” I laughed quietly, setting the mug on the counter beside his. “We survived another day.” “Barely,” he teased, brushing my hair from my face. “But you still look like magic.” I rolled my eyes. “You’ve been awake for eighteen hours, Alex.” “Exactly,” he said. “T