51. Good Dreams
GOOD DREAMS
JIN — PROVENCE
The farmhouse sat in a valley surrounded by lavender fields and vineyards, the kind of place that existed outside of time. Aidan and Liam had picked us up from the Nice airport themselves, driven us through winding roads into countryside that looked like a painting.
“Welcome,” Aidan said as we pulled up to a stone building with blue shutters and a garden that smelled like herbs and summer. “It’s not much, but it’s home.”
“It’s perfect,” I said honestly.
Their small brown dog met us enthusiastically as we walked in. We followed them inside to a space that was exactly what we needed. Comfortable furniture, a kitchen that smelled like fresh bread, windows that let in golden afternoon light.
“We had a guest suite built last year for family and friends,” Liam said. “It’s in the back of the house, overlooking the garden. We figured you’d want privacy.”
“This is too much,” Sang-hoon said.
“Nonsense. We’re all friends now.” Aidan smiled.
That night, the four of us had dinner on the terrace, with the dog, Hayam, beside Liam’s place, accepting tidbits.
Simple food, good wine, the kind of meal that felt like celebration and relief rolled into one.
Aidan and Liam told stories about their early days together, the jobs that had brought them from Tunisia to France, the life they’d built in this quiet corner of the world.
“Sixteen years together,” I said. “How did you make it work?”
“Honestly? We didn’t always.” Liam refilled his wine glass. “We had rough patches, times when the job got in the way, times when we weren’t sure if we’d make it. But we kept choosing each other. Every day, we chose each other.”
“That’s the secret,” Aidan added. “Not perfection. Just commitment. Choosing to stay even when it’s hard.”
Sang-hoon’s hand found mine under the table. “We can do that.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “We can.”
Later, after Aidan and Liam had gone to bed, Sang-hoon and I sat outside our room watching stars emerge over the valley. It was quiet in a way Seoul never was. No traffic, no sirens, no crowds of fans. Just crickets and wind in the lavender.
“I keep thinking about all those times I was in danger,” I said quietly. “When you could either run away or run toward me. And you chose me every time.”
“I did, and I’d do it again. A thousand times.” He looked at me. “But I’m glad I don’t have to anymore. I’m glad it’s over.”
“I hope Sara Yoon will go to prison for a very long time. This morning I got an email from Sun-hee-noona. When Eun-ji returned to Seoul and exposed the embezzlement and the network of people Sara Yoon hired, Starhouse decided to begin the June 30 audit immediately.” I leaned against him. “It’s really over.”
“And we get to just... live now. Figure out what normal looks like.”
“Is this normal?” I gestured at the farmhouse, the valley, the impossible beauty of it all. “Feels like a dream.”
“Good dreams are allowed.” He kissed the top of my head. “After everything we survived, we’ve earned some good dreams.”
My phone buzzed. I checked it—a text from Min-kyu in the group chat:
Min-kyu
How’s France?
Jin
Perfect. Quiet. No one’s trying to kill me.
Tae
Low bar but okay
Woo
Send pics! I want to see the countryside
Haneul
When are you coming back? We have comeback prep in a month
Jin
I’ll be there. We both will.
Min-kyu
Good. The group isn’t complete without our center. Or his stylist.
I showed Sang-hoon. He smiled. “They really care, don’t they? About us.”
“They always did. We were the only ones making it complicated.”
“Feels like a waste. We could have had this a long time ago.”
“Or we needed that time to get here. To be ready for it.” I turned to face him. “I don’t regret the timing. I regret the hiding. But not the waiting.”
“Philosopher Jin. Very deep.”
“Shut up.” I kissed him—soft, easy, the kind of kiss that promised thousands more.
We sat like that for a long time, wrapped in blankets against the evening chill, watching the valley settle into night. Inside, I could hear Aidan and Liam moving around, their quiet conversation and laughter, the comfortable sounds of a life built over sixteen years.
That could be us, I thought. Sixteen years from now, thirty years from now, sitting on a balcony somewhere watching the stars and remembering how we got here.
THE END