The room is quiet except for our breathing. Aaron falls asleep quickly, his chest rising and falling against my back. My body feels heavy from the flight and everything we just did, but my mind won’t settle. I run my fingers over the veins in his arm, where it rests on my hip.
How did we end up here so easily? His body is wrapped around me, holding me close. The comfort I feel surprises me. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I wanted something simple—hot, but temporary. Something with a clear end. But now, lying here with his heartbeat steady against my back, I’m suddenly scared of what it will feel like to say goodbye.
CHAPTER 28
MINJI
You knowthat 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.”
