Maybe after five more hours of this.
Aaron
Or you could, and hear me out, get on a plane to Dallas and let someone else buy you a drink.
I let that linger, tapping my pen against a legal pad. Out the window, Midtown glows faintly blue and gold, all potential and ambition and trash on the sidewalks. My phone buzzes again.
Aaron
I mean it, Minji. You’re allowed to not ‘handle it’ sometimes.
The next case file sits open before me, but I can’t focus on the words. His text blurs as I stare at it. The pull toward him feels like an actual physical ache—almost like grief. But then William’s smug face flashes in my mind, followed by Caleb’s condescending tone. This office, this desk—I want to set a match to it all. Yet simultaneously, I need to prove them wrong. The two desires war inside me, and I’m not sure which one will win.
I power through briefs until my vision blurs, fueled by office coffee that tastes like burnt pennies. The spreadsheet on mymonitor glows with client names I’ve color-coded by closing probability. Seven o’clock comes and goes. My temples throb.
Aaron’s message notification pulses on my phone screen, untouched.
At 7:30, I escape the building, summer air gluing my blouse to my back. I drift home on autopilot, longing for the weekend’s blissful ignorance, for the bubble I shared with Aaron. My apartment welcomes me with cold air and quiet. I scrub my teeth, wage war on my gums with floss, and scowl at my own reflection.
“This is nothing,” I tell the woman in the mirror. “You’re Minji Lee, Esq. Self-sufficient since 2009.”
My reflection doesn’t buy it either.
I climb into bed, just after ten, pulling the covers up to my chin, and close my eyes. Sleep refuses my invitation. Instead, my thoughts spin—William’s smirk, Caleb’s condescension, plane tickets to Taipei, Aaron’s fingers tracing my collarbone, his mouth against my ear, the way he whispered “Minji” when he thought I’d drifted off. I flip from side to side, sheets twisting around my legs like vines.
My phone lights up at 1:02 AM.
Aaron
I hope you’re asleep. But if you’re not, I’m here.
I don’t answer, but I let the screen burn itself into the darkness, a tiny sun that says I’m not entirely alone, even if I pretend otherwise.
Sleep comes in fragments. At 2:45, I surrender to insomnia, drafting tomorrow’s battle plan in bullet points, then revising it twice before emailing it to myself. I water my withering basil plant until the soil darkens with moisture. It perks up. I don’t.
By 6:20 AM, I’ve brewed coffee strong enough to strip paint, scalded myself pink in the shower, and zipped into my charcoal Armani. On the crowded subway, Aaron’s text replays in my mind. Three words hover, unspoken: I need you. I erase them from my thoughts before they ever reach my thumbs.
By the time I get to the office, my pulse is a live wire, and I am ready for war.
CHAPTER 35
AARON
Tabitha will probably wantmy head on a silver platter for canceling the rest of my tour, but some things are bigger than book sales. Dallas can wait. Minji can’t.
The doorman at her building gives me the once-over when I approach the desk. “Sir, I need to call up first.”
I flash what my agent calls my ‘bestseller smile.’ “It’s a surprise,” I say, already reaching for my phone to show him the photos from last weekend. “I’m her boyfriend.”
He studies the pictures with narrowed eyes. I don’t exactly blend in—six-three, Black, clutching a tote bag stuffed with neon highlighters and the saddest bunch of sunflowers the corner deli had to offer.
When he finally waves me through, I check my watch: 7:12 PM. Her last text mentioned soju and Korean variety shows, which is Minji-speak for ‘I’m drowning my sorrows after losing a hundred-million-dollar case.’
The door swings open before I can even knock. The doorman definitely ratted me out. She stands there, frozen in pajamas and an avocado face mask, eyes wide and stripped of all defenses.
“What the hell are you doing here?” she manages. “I thought you were in Dallas.”
I offer her the sunflowers, stems crooked and bound with a scrap of deli receipt. “You sounded like you needed me.”
