Chapter 28
MINJI
You know that rare moment when the universe seems to click into place, every detail humming in perfect harmony?
That’s what it was like with Minji curled beside me in the hotel sheets, her warmth pressed into my chest. I’d spent years sketching this scene in my mind, but the reality glowed richer and heavier, the kind of gold you only find in the real world, never in dreams.
We’d devoured each other like it was our last meal on earth, and then she found a way to make the silence afterward feel companionable, not awkward, and that only shows her growth.
My phone buzzes on the nightstand—probably Tab, stressed about tomorrow’s event.
I ignore it and focus on Minji, tracing the line of her nose and the small dent under her lower lip.
She’s somewhere between awake and asleep.
I can tell by how her toes press into my shins and the gentle movement of her legs.
She clears her throat. “You sure love to stare. Should I be worried you are plotting to abduct me?” She yawns, not opening her eyes.
“I just love watching you,” I whisper, shifting a little so my lips brush the shell of her ear. “It’s a hazard of my profession.” I slide my hand over her stomach, feeling the slow but certain flutter of her pulse under my palm.
“Such a creepy thing to admit, but I will allow it.”
“So,” I begin. “This is… good, right?”
She’s silent for just long enough that doubt starts to needle at me. Then she twists in the sheets, finally meeting my eyes. “It’s better than good.”
“You know I think you are going to ghost me again.” The words come tumbling out.
She doesn’t answer right away. Maybe she’s unsure, or maybe she’s weighing my words carefully, looking for the truth. Minji pulls the sheets up to her chin, then lets them fall, as if she’s testing how much vulnerability she can handle.
“I don’t ghost people,” she says finally, and for a second, I almost laugh—a reflex, because come on, we both know that’s not quite true. Instead, her eyes flick to mine, daring me to disagree. “Not intentionally.”
I despise how much I crave her reassurance.
It makes me feel exposed, needy in a way I can’t shake, no matter how deep I try to bury it.
With Minji, it’s like standing on a beach where the tide keeps pulling the ground from under me—one wrong move and she could vanish all over again.
I’ve lost too many nights dissecting the past, searching for the moment it all unraveled.
“Aaron?” Her voice pulls me back. “You’re doing it again. That thing where you go quiet, and your eyes get all unfocused.”
“Sorry,” I say, tracing my finger along her collarbone. “Occupational hazard. My brain’s always spinning stories.”
She props herself up on one elbow, her hair falling in a dark curtain around her face. “What story are you spinning now?”
“The one where you and I don’t screw this up,” I admit. “The sequel’s always harder to write than the original.”
Her lips twitch, almost a smile. “Is that what this is? A sequel?”
“More like a rewrite.” I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, letting my fingers linger against her cheek. “Better character development this time around.”
She laughs, the sound soft and unguarded in a way I rarely hear from her. “You’re ridiculous.”
“We should get ready for dinner.”
Minji sits up with a slight wince. “About what happened earlier…”
“What about it?” I ask, suddenly alert.
She meets my gaze directly. “I need to set some boundaries. That was…” She pauses, searching for words, “overwhelming. I don’t think it would be right if I didn’t tell you that I honestly don’t like edging.
I don’t like being stripped of control like that.
In court, I have to maintain total control at all times.
When I’m with you… I want to feel safe enough to let go, not like I’m being pushed past my limits. ”
My chest tightens. I sit up immediately. “God, Minji, I’m so sorry—”
“No, don’t apologize.” She cuts me off, her hand finding mine in the tangled sheets. “The sex was amazing. I just need you to understand that part wasn’t for me.”
Relief washes through me, tempered by genuine remorse. “I should have asked first. That’s on me.”
“We’re both figuring this out.” Her voice is gentler than I expected. “Just talk to me next time before trying something new.”
I nod, swallowing hard. “I promise.”
She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, and her voice drops slightly. “I want to explore the rougher side of sex like we did back in college, but on terms that work for both of us.”
I lean forward. “I’m all ears. Anything else I should know?”
“That covers it for now. We should start getting ready.”
I’m the first to leave the bed, stretching deliberately, feeling her eyes track me with the focus she saves for courtroom battles.
I stroll around the bed, unhurried, not bothering to hide my arousal.
She tries for composure, but her lips twitch, and her gaze darts down, then up again, like she’s resisting the urge to stare at something too bright.
I give my shoulders a slow roll, a silent invitation, and slip into the bathroom before she can catch the flush rising in my cheeks.
At the sink, I splash cold water on my face and breathe deeply, counting to four to steady my racing pulse.
The reality hits me: after twelve years, Minji is back in my life.
Now I just need to figure out how to keep her there.
I start the shower, still feeling traces of her touch on my skin.
The steam rises, carrying phantom notes of her scent—citrus with something electric underneath.
Every cell in my body feels hyperaware, like I’ve been recalibrated to her frequency, her voice still reverberating through me like an aftershock.
I’ve been under the spray for maybe three minutes when the bathroom door clicks open.
“Need to use the toilet,” she announces.
“Be my guest,” I call back, tracking her movements and then hearing the soft thud as she sits.
She flushes, washes her hands, and through the foggy glass, I see her watching me. I turn a little, showing off the line from my chest to my hip. “Are you actually posing in there, or do you always shower like you’re on a magazine cover?” she asks.
I squeeze gel into my palm, working it across my shoulders with exaggerated care, grinning despite myself.
“This is a limited engagement performance. Audience of one.” I push the shower door open with my forearm, steam billowing around me.
“Plenty of space for a co-star.” I wink, stepping back as water streams down my face.
She gives me that half-smile I’ve been chasing since college. “If I join you in there, we’re definitely going to be late for dinner.”
I extend my hand, dripping with soap suds.
She takes it instinctively, and I guide her behind the glass door.
Water cascades down her shoulders, her hair darkening as it gets wet.
I guide her against the cool tile wall, pressing my body to hers, feeling her breath catch.
I sink to my knees, ready to worship every inch of her.
“I’m starving,” she says, a little unsteady.
“So am I.” I look up at her with hunger in my eyes. It’s not about dominating her now; it’s about cherishing her. I run my palms up her calves, feeling the strong muscles there. “I’ll make it quick, I promise.”
We arrive at the restaurant early. It’s fancy but tries to look casual with exposed brick and Motown music, though the lighting is warm and every table faces the bridge.
“I can’t decide whether the cocktail list is brilliant or just pretentious.” Her eyes are wide as she scans the menu.
“It’s both. Tabitha would say it’s ‘brand-forward.’”
She snorts. “You love mocking your agent, but she gets you six-figure advances. You’re obsessed with her.”
“The only person I’m obsessed with is you. No other woman can compare to you, even on your bad days.” I peek at her over the top of it. She’s fighting a smile.
“Let’s order first.” She waves at the passing server, her confidence so sharply elegant it’s almost intimidating. But when she looks at me, I get a flash of something soft and familiar: her foot nudging mine under the table, the deliberate tilt of her lips.
I order a Rye Manhattan, and she picks a gin martini with a lemon twist. We joke about the appetizers—the positives and negatives of the menu and which dish could send a character to the ER in one of my stories.
Minji is sharp, funny, and always ahead of me.
I can’t get enough of it. By the time our food arrives, I’m two drinks in and feeling that rare, light feeling of being truly seen and wanted.
I reach across the table, not even planning to, just the instinct to touch her wrist where a faint blue vein runs beneath the surface. “Tell me something you’ve never told anyone.” It’s a cliché, but I mean it.
She stares down at my hand, her poker face perfect except for the quick flare in her eyes.
“I once forged my mother’s signature on a scholarship application,” she says.
“I was twelve, and I forgot to have her sign it before I left for school and it needed to be returned that day. I thought she would be happy that I did something wrong, but for the right reasons. She was indeed not happy and grounded me for a week.”
“Did you get the scholarship at least?”
She nods. “Spent a summer dissecting pig hearts. Best two months of my life.”
I decide to share a secret of my own, one I never thought I’d say out loud. I lean in and lower my voice, even though the waitstaff isn’t listening. “I never fell out of love with you.”
That draws her attention all the way up. She tries to laugh, but it’s half a wince. “Aaron… no.”
She looks away, tracing her thumb around her glass, her face softening in ways I haven’t seen before. This isn’t the Minji who used to keep me guessing. This is her being honest, even if it’s hard.
But I want her to know I see it.