Entangled Fates: SaMo

Chapter 8

As I stood before the mirror, the soft glow of vanity lights casting a warm aura, my phone rang, shattering the tranquility of my reflective moment. It was my sister, the perpetual driver in our family dynamic. "Sana, need a lift?" Her voice echoed through the phone. I glanced at my reflection, a smirk playing on my lips. "No need sis, I can drive." She chuckled, a sound that resonated with familiarity. "Come on, you haven't touched a steering wheel in years. Don't pretend." I continued applying a touch of makeup, my routine unfolding seamlessly. "Well, I have a personal driver for a reason. No point in exerting myself."

Her laugh spilled into the conversation. "Lazy as always. I'll be at Dad's in 30 minutes. Get ready to be chauffeured." After the call, I descended the stairs, making my way to the front door, where my personal driver awaited. I instructed him to head to the family home. Midway through the journey, a sudden realization hit me like a jolt. I had forgotten the carefully chosen gift for my father. I ordered the driver to turn the car around, a detour necessary to rectify my oversight.

An hour later, I arrived at the family home, greeted by the familiar faces of the household maids. With a polite bow, I stepped into the warmth of my childhood home. As I entered the living room, the comforting familiarity of home surrounded me, but the atmosphere quickly shifted when Jihyo's stern gaze met mine. "Sana, seriously? You forgot Dad's gift?" Jihyo scolded, her tone a mix of annoyance and amusement.

I sheepishly explained, "I had to come back for it. It's not like I did it on purpose." She smirked, teasingly restoring, "Always the forgetful one, Sana. Maybe you should hire a personal assistant for your memory." Ignoring her remark, I glanced around, searching for our father. Jihyo, ever observant, filled me in, "Dad's in the backyard. Grilling steaks." I raised an eyebrow. Dad, grilling? That was a rare sight. Curiosity piqued, I made my way to the backyard, where the enticing aroma of sizzling steaks filled the air.

"Dad, happy birthday!" I exclaimed, surprised by the spectacle of him tending to the grill. A broad smile spread across his face as he turned to greet me. "Sana, my dear! I'm glad you made it. Give your old man a hug." Confusion etched my face as I embraced him, not accustomed to such displays of affection. "Dad, since when do you cook? And why are you so happy?" He chuckled, patting my back. "I thought I'd surprise everyone today. It's not every day I get to show off my grilling skills. Now, go back inside, enjoy some time with your sister. Food will be ready in about 30 minutes."

Walking back to the living room, I found Jihyo hunched over her laptop, fingers typing away. I couldn't resist a chance to poke fun. "Hey, are you ever not working? You're practically married to that laptop." I teased, a playful grin on my face. She glanced up, her eyes meeting mine. "Oh, coming from the queen of workaholics herself. Don't act innocent, Sana." We shared a laugh, both acknowledging the truth in each other's jests. Despite the teasing, there was a camaraderie in our shared understanding of the demands we placed on ourselves.

As the laughter subsided, curiosity got the best of me. "By the way, what's up with Dad today? Grilling steaks, acting all happy...It's kind of weird." She sighed, closing her laptop momentarily. "He's been like this for the past three weeks. Positive changes, but it's throwing me off too. I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Positive changes? Like what? She leaned back, contemplating. "He's started cooking, exercising regularly, and even took up painting. It's like he's rediscovering himself or something. Not that it's a bad thing, but it's just... unexpected." I chuckled, leaning back on the couch. "Well, as long as it's all good changes. Maybe he's having a midlife crisis or something." Jihyo shook her head, a wry smile playing on her lips. "Who knows? Let's just enjoy the positive weirdness while it lasts." And with that, we resumed our banter.

Jihyo went back to her laptop, a sudden growl emanated from her stomach, breaking the silence. I burst into laughter, unable to resist a golden opportunity. "Jihyo, did your laptop just growl at me, or was that your stomach?" She shot me a playful glare, her eyes narrowing. "Very funny. Maybe it's protesting against your constant teasing." In response, I playfully nudged her, instigating a mock wrestling match. Just as our laughter reached its peak, our dad appeared, capturing the moment with a snapshot.