“Is just what?” I step closer, close enough that I can smell her perfume. “A distraction? A rebound?”
“I wasn’t going to be that harsh, but since you brought it up.” She shrugs, the movement elegant even in its dismissiveness.
I take a deep breath. “Vanessa caught me off guard. I wasn’t expecting to see her here. But that doesn’t mean I’m hung up on her. She and I are long over and?—”
“You don’t owe me explanations,” she repeats—her lawyer’s mantra.
“I know I don’t. But I want you to understand.” I run a hand over my face, trying to find the right words. “When you’ve spent years with someone, built a life with them, there’s always going to be… something. A reaction. It doesn’t mean I want her back. I haven’t seen her in years and haven’t thought about her since the breakup.”
Minji studies me, her expression unreadable. “What do you want, Aaron? Because you explaining yourself to me when you don’t have to means you wantsomething.”
The question hangs between us, weighted with possibilities. In the background, the party continues—glasses clinking, laughter rising and falling, music pulsing. But in our little alcove, time seems suspended.
“You. I want a chance with you. This must be fate that we have crossed paths again after a decade. Out of all the law firms in New York City, I end up at yours. You coming back from your leave of absence earlier than planned—it’s all fate.”
“Aaron…” Her voice is softer now, less armor-plated. “You don’t know what you’re saying. We barely know each other.”
“That’s not true,” I counter, emboldened by the fact that she hasn’t walked away. “I knew you twelve years ago?—”
“You knewofme,” she corrects me.
“You’re right for the most part, and I will be getting to know you all over again in the next three weeks. However, you’re still brilliant and courageous. I know that you care deeply about your clients, even though you try to hide it. I know you enjoy listening to my audiobooks.”
She blushes at that last part, and the sight of color spreading across her cheeks makes my heart race.
“Coincidence isn’t fate.”
“Maybe not,” I agree. “But it’s not nothing either. Look, I’m not asking for a happily ever after. I’m just asking for a chance. A real chance. If you want to pick up where we left off before you ghosted me… We can, but we sure as hell can try something different.”
She opens her mouth to argue, then closes it, studying me like I’m some logic puzzle she can brute force. A long silence. Then finally, “You’re relentless.”
“I write romances for a living, Minji. Persistence is step one.”
“You’re impossible.”
“Only if you want me to be.”
Minji looks down at her hands, then back up at me. For a moment, I see something in her eyes—a flicker of possibility, maybe even longing—before she masks her emotions. “Aaron, it’s been a week since you arrived at the firm, and it wasn’t even a full week. You’re coming on too strong; it’s a turn-off. I want you to stop living in the past because I’m notthatMinji anymore. I’m a grown woman who knows what she wants. So, let’s just focus on getting through tonight professionally, please. I’m here as your colleague, not your date.”
Her words hit me like a bucket of ice water. I swallow hard, the taste of rejection bitter on my tongue. “I understand,” I manage, even as disappointment settles in my chest. “I apologize if I’ve made you uncomfortable.”
“You haven’t. I just think we need to be realistic about our situation. We aren’t in college anymore.”
“Realistic,” I repeat. “Right.”
I step back, creating distance between us. “Fair enough. College was a long time ago.” Each time she pushes me away, it cuts deeper than before. I manage a smile anyway, feeling the music change around us—something slower now, with bass notes that seem to vibrate up through the soles of my heels. The party swirls on, but we’ve found ourselves in a strange bubble of quiet amid the chaos.
“Dance with me,” I add quickly, “just as colleagues.”
Minji’s eyes narrow slightly. She studies me for what feels like forever before giving a nod. “One song.”
When I extend my hand, her fingers meet mine with the cautious touch of someone approaching a wild animal. I lead her toward a less crowded corner of the dance floor. I place my hand at the small of her back and feel her stiffen briefly before relaxing into my touch.
“I really am sorry about earlier,” I say as we begin to move with the music. “Vanessa showing up threw me off balance.”
“It’s fine,” she murmurs, but her eyes drift over my shoulder, scanning the room. “Is she still here?”
“I don’t know,” I reply honestly. “And I don’t care.”
