The house had felt different lately—quieter, a little emptier. Though CEO Kien and Bibi kept her company, Lala could still feel the space where someone was missing.
Mom Lan Anh.
Lala had waited at the door more than once, ears perked at every sound, tail wagging hopefully when a car passed. But day after day, no one familiar stepped through that door.
Until today.
It was late afternoon when the door creaked open. Lala looked up lazily from her nap, expecting another delivery or maybe Kien coming in with groceries.
But the moment she caught that familiar scent—soft floral, a little minty, and full of memories—her eyes widened.
There she was.
“Lala!” Lan Anh gasped, dropping her bag and opening her arms.
For one breathless second, Lala stood still. Then the realization hit. Her tail exploded into motion, and she launched across the room in a blur of fur and joy.
She whined, barked, and nearly knocked Lan Anh over, nuzzling her face, licking her cheeks, pressing her whole body into the hug she’d missed for too long.
Lan Anh laughed through tears. “I missed you so much, sweet girl.”
Kien peeked in from the hallway, watching the reunion with a knowing smile. “I told you she never stopped waiting.”
That night, Lala didn’t leave her mom’s side. She followed her from room to room, curled up beside her on the couch, and rested her head gently on her lap as they talked and caught up.
Sometimes, joy isn’t loud—it’s the quiet, overwhelming happiness of seeing someone you love come home.
And for Lala, that moment made all the waiting worth it.
