Epilogue #2
She returns with three small glasses and a bottle I recognize as the special soju she saves for celebrations. “For you, just a small toast,” she tells me, pouring barely a thimbleful into my glass. “For the baby’s father, a normal amount.”
Aaron accepts his glass with appropriate reverence. My mother raises hers, suddenly solemn despite the joy radiating from her face.
“To my first grandchild,” she toasts, her accent thickening with emotion. “May you have your father’s kind heart and your mother’s strong spirit.”
We clink glasses, and I take the tiniest sip, more for the gesture than anything else. The warmth spreading through my chest isn’t from the alcohol, but from this moment—my husband beside me, my mother beaming, and the future ahead of us, full of possibility.
“That went well,” Aaron declares as we enter our hotel room. I watch Aaron shrug off his jacket and hang it carefully in the hotel closet.
My mother insisted we stay over at her place, but for what I want to happen tonight… she should not be a witness.
“Your mom is probably already planning the nursery at her place.” He smiles as he unbuttons his shirt. “I think she’s going to buy out every baby store in Seoul before we leave.”
“That’s my mother. Once she’s in, she’s all in.” I kick off my heels with a sigh and sink onto the bed, patting the space beside me. Anticipation flutters in my chest as he sits. His warmth radiates through his shirt, and I instinctively lean into him.
“You look beautiful tonight,” he murmurs, his fingers tracing circles on my back. “That dress… I’ve been thinking about taking it off you since we left the apartment.”
I turn to face him, heart quickening. “What’s stopping you now?”
His eyes darken, but I can see he’s still hesitant. It’s been weeks since we’ve been intimate. His fear of hurting the baby has put a gentle distance between us. I understand his concern, but my body is practically humming with need.
“Aaron.” I take his hand and place it on my still-flat stomach. “The doctor said it’s perfectly safe. I’m not made of glass.”
“I know, I just—” He swallows, his thumb moving in gentle arcs over my dress. “I don’t want to risk anything happening to either of you.”
I cradle his face in my palms, meeting his eyes. “Nothing will happen. Except I might actually burst into flames if my husband doesn’t touch me soon.”
That gets a smile, the dimple I love appearing in his cheek. “Well, we can’t have that. Spontaneous combustion would definitely upset your mother.”
“Exactly. Think of my mother,” I tease, leaning in to press my lips to his.
The kiss starts gently, almost tentative, but quickly deepens as months of restraint begin to crumble. Aaron’s hands slide up my back, finds the zipper of my dress, and slowly lowers it. I shiver as cool air meets my skin, followed by the warmth of his palms.
“I’ve missed you,” he whispers against my neck, and I know he doesn’t just mean physically. This connection between us has always been about more than sex.
“I’m right here,” I assure him, guiding his hands to my breasts, which are fuller now, more sensitive. When his thumb grazes my nipple through my bra, I gasp, the sensation almost overwhelming.
Aaron pulls back, concerned. “Did I hurt you?” He looks stricken.
“No,” I breathe, covering his hand with mine, pressing it more firmly against me. “It feels good. Different, but good.”
His expression shifts from concern to fascination. “Tell me what you need,” he whispers, his breath warm against my ear. “I want to make you feel amazing.”
“Just touch me,” I murmur, guiding his hands as my dress falls away. “Everywhere.”
Aaron takes his time, treating my body like new territory that needs careful exploration. His fingers trail over my collarbone, down between my breasts, circling my navel before resting on the slight, almost invisible curve below. The way he touches me makes me ache with need.
“You’re carrying our child.” His voice is full of awe. “Sometimes I still can’t believe it.”
I pull him down beside me on the bed, my hands working at his shirt buttons. “Believe it. And believe that I want my husband right now.”
He smiles against my lips as I kiss him, deep and demanding. The hesitation is gone now, replaced by the familiar heat that’s always existed between us. When his shirt joins my dress on the floor, I run my hands over his chest, tracing the muscles I know by heart.
“God, I’ve missed this,” I whisper, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath my palm.
“Me too,” Aaron confesses, his hands sliding down to grip my hips. “I’ve been driving myself crazy trying to be careful with you.”
I laugh softly. “I’m pregnant, not breakable.”
“I know.” He cuts me off, pressing his lips to my throat. “But you’re carrying something precious, something we created together. Can you blame me for being careful?”
His words make my heart swell. For someone who lives by his pen, Aaron still finds ways to catch me off guard.
“No more being careful tonight,” I tell him, reaching for his belt. “Tonight I want my husband back.”
His eyes darken as he helps me undress him, and then we’re skin-to-skin. Aaron’s hands move with renewed confidence now, his mouth following the path his fingers blaze across my sensitized skin.
When he settles between my thighs, looking up at me with questions in his eyes, I nod, threading my fingers through his hair. The first touch of his tongue makes me arch off the bed, a gasp escaping my lips. Everything feels magnified, more intense than before.
“Is this okay?” he asks, his breath hot against me.
“More than okay,” I manage, my voice breaking as he resumes, his talented mouth bringing me to the edge embarrassingly quickly. “Aaron, I’m—”
He hums against me, the vibration sending me over the edge. I come hard, my body clenching around nothing, desperate to be filled. Aaron works me through it, his touch gentling as I come down, trembling.
“You’re even more responsive now.” His voice is rough with desire as he kisses his way back up my body. “That was fast.”
“Everything feels more intense,” I admit, pulling him up to kiss me. I can taste myself on his lips, and it only heightens my arousal. “I need you inside me. Now.”
Aaron positions himself above me, his eyes locked with mine as he enters me slowly, carefully. The fullness makes me gasp, my body adjusting to the sensation that somehow feels both familiar and brand new.
“Are you okay?” he whispers, holding perfectly still.
“Perfect.” I wrap my legs around his waist to draw him deeper. “Don’t stop.”
He begins to move, setting a gentle rhythm that quickly proves insufficient for both of us. I dig my fingers into his shoulders, urging him on.
“I won’t break,” I remind him, nipping at his earlobe. “I want to feel you.”
Something in him snaps at that, and his next thrust is harder, deeper. I moan my approval, meeting his movement for movement. We find our rhythm easily, as if our bodies remember exactly how they fit together despite the weeks apart.
“I love you,” Aaron whispers against my neck, his voice strained with the effort of maintaining control. “God, Minji, I love you so much.”
The emotion in his voice, combined with the perfect angle of his thrusts, sends me spiraling toward another climax. I cling to him, my nails leaving half-moons on his back as pleasure builds inside me.
“Look at me,” he commands, slowing just enough to make me whimper. “I want to see you.”
I open my eyes to find him watching me with such tenderness it nearly breaks me. His hand slides between us, thumb finding my center with unerring accuracy.
“Come for me, Honeybee,” he urges, and the combination of his touch, his words, and the look in his eyes pushes me over the edge.
This orgasm is different—deeper, more intense, radiating through my entire body in waves that seem endless. I hear myself cry out his name, feel him follow me moments later, his body tensing as he spills inside me with a groan that sounds like surrender.
Afterwards, we lie tangled together, his hand resting protectively over my stomach, my head tucked under his chin.
The hotel air conditioning hums softly in the background, but all I can focus on is the steady beat of Aaron’s heart against my cheek.
I close my eyes, thinking about the before and after of us like two sides of a case.
Before Aaron, my reputation was my shield. He called me ‘The Athena of Divorce Law’ with that infuriating grin. With Aaron, the walls remain, but now I have someone I trust to step inside and keep me safe.