Chapter 37
AARON
We’re loaded with comfort food, and Minji’s eyes are a little glassy.
Not from the soju, but from finally letting herself be tired and, maybe, raw around me.
We’re sitting on her sofa, her head is in my lap as we watch some reality dating show called Love Behind the Headlines.
I don’t think I could ever subject myself to finding love on national TV, even if the destination is somewhere tropical.
“Would you ever go on one of these shows?” I ask, as Minji picks at the hem of my hoodie.
Onscreen, a parade of sunburned singles line up to speed-date in swimwear and pastel linen.
“No.” She shakes her head, and I have to take several deep breaths as her head moves against my dick.
“But you’d make it to the finale, because you’re clearly the most lovable woman I know,” I say, twirling a curl of her hair around one finger.
“The producers would probably edit me as a villain. I’d be the one giving reality TV-style confessionals about everyone’s poor life decisions.” She snorts. “Can you imagine the montage? Here to win the hundred thousand dollars and ruin at least three relationships.”
“They’d idolize you. Well okay, idolize may be strong, but at minimum, you’d attract a cult following on the subreddit.”
She sighs, faintly amused. “My cult would be composed entirely of people who correct other people’s grammar on the internet. Real sex appeal.”
“I would join your cult,” I say.
She turns her head, and I take in a quick breath. Fuck. It feels like my dick is going to explode.
“I know.” Her hand finds its way under my shirt and idly traces the lines of my abs. Each time she exhales, I feel it in my lap a wave of desire followed by the strange, shivering tenderness I only seem to get around Minji.
“What are you thinking about right now?” she asks, voice soft but not shy.
Using the edge in ‘right now’ to break the spell of assumed passivity.
Her hand does not leave my skin, but drifts lower, just at the waistband.
“Don’t try to be clever. Just be honest with me.
What is truly going on through your mind? ”
“I should be asking you that, but…” I realize she’s avoiding discussing her problems now.
I breathe slowly, watching the ceiling flicker in and out of focus.
“I’m thinking how insanely perfect this moment is just sitting here, holding you, pretending there’s no tomorrow, no big law firm drama, just us and bad TV.
I also believe you’re not broken,” I add, unable to resist. “You’re the glue.
You’re what keeps everyone—your clients, friends, and me—together.
Even when you’re hurting, you’re not a disaster. ”
Minji closes her eyes, and the lines of her mouth soften. “Don’t flatter me right now, Aaron,” she says. “I can’t decide yet if I want to cry, punch you, or…” She lets the sentence hang, the unspoken third option a dare.
Or what? Or take me apart at the seams right here, in your apartment, with nothing but a cheap reality show for lighting? I wish she’d say it, but I know Minji; she only breaks the tension after she’s tested it to the point of snapping.
“I hope it’s not option two,” I say. “You’re very strong, and I wouldn’t stand a chance.
” I run my hand lightly along her hairline, pushing her hair back so I can see her entire face.
“If you want to cry, I’ll hold you. If you want to hit me, I’ll try to dodge.
And if you want to do the third thing, which I suspect is indecent, you’ll have to be the one to make the first move. ”
She pauses for a moment, and I sense her internal struggle.
Then she suddenly relents, without warning, she shifts her body to slip her hand completely under the waistband of my boxers.
Her grasp is initially gentle, then it tightens with the assurance of someone finally claiming what they’ve long desired. I exhale sharply in a ragged gasp.
“Option three,” she says.
“While I do love option three, can we talk first? Like really talk and then I will fuck you into oblivion. How does that sound?” I know Minji better than she thinks.
While she’s responding physically, I know sex is her distraction technique.
She’ll lose herself in my body to avoid confronting her own pain.
“Don’t you want to…?” She squeezes me through my boxers, her eyebrow arched in challenge.
“God, yes.” My voice is already strained. “But I want you to be here with me, not escaping inside your head. So in order to do that, we gotta talk.”
Her hand stills, and I see the flash of irritation cross her face before it softens into something more vulnerable. “I’m here,” she mutters, but her eyes slide away from mine.
“Look at me,” I gently tilt her chin up. “What are you really running from right now?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re lying, Honeybee.”
“Why are you pushing this?” she asks quietly, her hand still resting against my skin.
I sigh. “Because I know what it looks like when you’re trying to outrun your feelings. And I don’t want to be just another escape route.”
She withdraws her hand and shifts her position, sitting up to face me. The loss of her touch leaves me cold, but I know this conversation needs to happen.
“Fine.” She exhales. “You want to talk? Let’s talk. I worked so hard for that firm. I worked my ass off and…” She lets out a deep breath, and I can see the tears welling in her eyes.
“I sacrificed everything,” Minji continues, her voice breaking. “Birthdays, holidays, relationships—all of it. And for what? To have some man who’s never worked half as hard as me take what should’ve been mine?”
The tears start falling now. I’m frozen for a moment by the raw emotion on her face. I’ve never seen Minji cry like this—not even when I told her about my role in the Hui-Wangs’ reconciliation. This is different. This is years of pain finally breaking through.
“I just—” Her voice cracks completely, and a sob escapes her. “I don’t know who I am without this. If I’m not Partner Minji Lee, Esq., then who the hell am I?”
I reach for her, but she puts up a hand, shaking her head.
“No, let me get this out. This is what you wanted.” She wipes furiously at her eyes. “My whole life has been about being perfect. The perfect daughter, the perfect student, the perfect lawyer. But it was never enough. It’s never enough.”
She looks at me, eyes red and vulnerable in a way that makes my chest ache. “What if I quit and I fail at whatever comes next? What if I stay and keep hitting this same glass ceiling? What if I’m just… not enough? Not for any of it?”
I can’t hold back anymore. I pull her against me, and this time she doesn’t resist. She collapses into my chest, her body shaking with sobs that feel like they’re being ripped from somewhere deep inside her.
“You are enough,” I whisper fiercely into her hair. “You’ve always been enough. The firm didn’t deserve you. They never did.”
Her fingers clutch at my shirt as she cries, and I hold her tighter, feeling my own tears threatening to spill over. I’ve written a hundred emotional breakdowns in my novels, but none of those words prepared me for the reality of holding someone you love while they finally let their walls crumble.
“I’m so tired,” she whispers against my chest. “I’m so fucking tired of fighting for every inch.”
“Then stop fighting for a while,” I say, stroking her hair. “Just be here with me. We’ll figure out the rest together.”
She pulls back to look at me, her face tear-stained and beautiful in its honesty. “What if I don’t know how to do that? What if I don’t know how to just… be?”
“Then I’ll show you,” I promise. “One day at a time.”
She takes a shaky breath, then reaches up to touch my face, her fingers tracing my jaw like she’s seeing me for the first time. “Why do you care so much? About me? After everything? I pushed you away again for weeks and yet you’re still here, still want me.”
“Why? Because Honeybee, I fucking love you.” I didn’t mean to say it—not like this, not when she’s vulnerable and breaking apart in my arms. But there it is, the raw, unfiltered truth I’ve been carrying since our weekend in Napa.
Minji freezes, her tear-streaked face a portrait of shock. “What did you just say?”
“I love you,” I repeat, softer this time, but no less certain. “I’m in love with you, Minji Lee. Probably since our college days.”
She blinks rapidly, fresh tears welling up. “Aaron, you can’t—this isn’t—”
“I know the timing is terrible,” I say, wiping a tear from her cheek. “But it’s true. I’ve tried writing it a thousand different ways in my head, looking for the perfect moment, the perfect words. There aren’t any.”
“I’m a mess,” she whispers, gesturing vaguely at herself. “I don’t even know what I’m doing with my life anymore.”
“Join the club,” I say, trying to smile through the tightness in my throat. “I canceled the rest of my book tour to be with you. Tabitha might actually murder me in my sleep.”
A laugh escapes her. “That’s different.”
“Is it?” I cup her face in my hands, forcing her to look at me. “Minji, I don’t care if you’re a hotshot partner or if you quit tomorrow to open a bakery or if you decide to move to Antarctica to study penguins. I just want to be wherever you are.”
Her eyes search mine, looking for the catch, the fine print, the hidden clause. Always the lawyer.
“Why?” her voice small.
The question breaks something open in my chest. “Because you’re the most headstrong person I’ve ever known.
” The words rush out like they’ve been waiting forever to be spoken.
“Because you fight for what matters. Because you see through bullshit faster than anyone I’ve ever met.
Because when you laugh—really laugh—it feels like I’ve accomplished something extraordinary.
You don’t let me get away with anything, and somehow that makes me want to be better.
Because even when you’re breaking apart, you’re still the strongest person in the room. ”
“Aaron.”