EPILOGUE
MINJI
Two Years Later
“We’re going to be late,”I call out, checking my watch for the third time in two minutes.
Aaron appears in the doorway of our bedroom, still buttoning his shirt. “Relax, Honeybee. Your mother won’t disown you for being five minutes late to dinner.”
“You don’t know that,” I mutter, but I can’t help smiling when I see him. After three years together, he still makes my heart skip a beat every time he walks in. It feels silly and not at all professional, but I’ve gotten used to it.
“She adores me.” He adjusts his cuffs with that confident grin. “I bring her kimchi and gossip about American celebrities. I’m the son-in-law jackpot.”
I roll my eyes but hearing him say ‘son-in-law’ still gives me a happy shiver. We’ve been married for eighteen months, and sometimes I wake up surprised to see his ring on my finger, matching his.
“She only tolerates you because you got me to fly back home frequently,” I remind him, smoothing down the front of my dress. “And because you’re learning Korean.”
“? ??? ??? ? ?? ??? (I’m getting better at speaking Korean, aren’t I?),” he smiles proudly. His accent is still bad, but it’s getting better.
“Your pronunciation is getting better,” I admit, reaching up to fix his collar. “But let’s not test my mother’s patience tonight. This dinner is important.”
Aaron wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me against him. “I know it is. That’s why I made sure to iron this shirt twice.”
I laugh, pressing my forehead against his chest for a moment. “My hero.”
The truth is that tonight’s dinner isn’t just any regular dinner with my mom when we come to Korea. Tonight, we’re telling her our news. I’m still processing it myself.
“Ready?” Aaron asks, his voice gentle. He knows I’m nervous, and he can probably feel the tension in my shoulders.
I nod, taking a deep breath. “Let’s go.”
As we ride the elevator down to the garage, I think about how much has changed since I left Parras. Lee & Associates now has a whole floor in Chelsea, with six attorneys and a support staff who feel more like family than colleagues. Jasmyn joined us after nine months, bringing all her clients. Eliza keeps the office running smoothly, and we’ve even hired two associates who came over from Parras.
Meanwhile, Aaron’s career has soared. HisLove and Lawsuitsseries turned into a streaming hit last year, and now Hollywood won’t stop calling. Yet he still writes daily, still shows up with lunch when I’m buried in work, and still gazes at me like I’m the only story worth telling.
In the car, Aaron drives as I scroll through my emails one last time, more out of reflex than necessity. When he suggested this trip to Seoul, I hesitated, but he insisted it was the only way to tell my mom our news. FaceTime could never do justice. I was raised to deliver big news face-to-face.
“You’re doing it again.” Aaron reaches over to squeeze my hand.
“Doing what?” I ask, though I know exactly what he means.
“That thing where you overthink until you’ve created seventeen worst-case scenarios in your head.” He navigates through traffic with casual confidence. “Your mom is going to be thrilled.”
I watch Seoul’s neon skyline blur past the window. The city feels both like home and a little foreign now, like slipping into a favorite sweater that’s stretched in unexpected places.
“I just want everything to be perfect,” I admit.
“It will be,” Aaron says with the steady optimism I used to find annoying but now can’t live without. “And if it’s not perfect, we’ll handle it together. That’s what we do.”
He’s right, of course. We’ve handled much bigger challenges than dinner with my mother—starting my own firm, Aaron’s sudden fame, Parras law firm attempting to steal one of my biggest clients—we got through all of it together, hand in hand.
As my mom’s apartment building appears, nerves twist in my stomach. I rest a hand on my still-flat belly, awed that there’s a life growing inside.Our baby. Unplanned, but now unimaginable to live without.
Three weeks ago, I sat on the bathroom floor for twenty minutes, staring at the test while Aaron waited outside. I always pictured kids later, after the firm was stable, after Aaron’s contract, after, after, after. But life loves to rewrite our plans.
“Last chance to back out,” I joke as we pull into the parking garage. “We could just tell her we’re thinking about getting a dog instead.”
Aaron laughs, putting the car in park. “I don’t think your mother would appreciate the bait and switch. Besides, I’ve been practicing how to say ‘grandmother’ in Korean all week. Not sure I can nail you’re going to be a grandmother, but I for sure can just say grandmother.”
