Min Jae

A year ago, I lived for the sound of a van pulling into a driveway. Now, I live for the sound of a heavy key turning in a lock at 6:00 PM sharp.

The silence of my life hasn't just been broken; it’s been replaced by a beautiful, chaotic symphony. My new apartment, our apartment, is no longer a laboratory for lonely sensations. It’s a home. There are plants on the windowsill that are actually thriving, a stack of manuscripts on the coffee table waiting for my red pen, and a pair of size-twelve gym sneakers perpetually tripped over in the hallway.

Becoming an editor at Evergreen Publishing was the final piece of the puzzle. I stopped analyzing data and started analyzing stories. I realized I’d spent so long being a character in a tragedy that I’d forgotten I had the power to change the ending.

I was currently marking up a particularly spicy debut novel when the door opened. Kai walked in, smelling of cedarwood, sweat, and that high-octane energy he brings home from the gym.

“Hey, Editor,” he rumbled, dropping his gear bag. He walked over and pressed a lingering kiss to the top of my head. “Still bleeding all over that poor guy’s prose?”

“It’s a disaster,” I murmured, leaning back into his solid warmth. “The pacing is off. The hero is too stoic. He needs to realize he’s in love by chapter five, not chapter twenty.”

Kai chuckled, his large, calloused hands coming down to massage my shoulders. Those hands had built a life for us. Three months after we started dating, he’d told me he couldn't stand the commute between our hearts anymore. We moved in together, and shortly after, he’d traded his courier uniform for the title of Business Owner. Lee’s Iron & Grit was now the most popular trainer-owned gym in the district.

He didn't deliver boxes anymore; he helped people rebuild their bodies. And every night, he came home to help me rebuild my soul.

“Come on,” Kai said, tugging at my hand. “Dinner’s in the oven, but I have something for you. A delivery.”

I arched an eyebrow, a playful spark hitting my chest. “A delivery? Kai, we haven't ordered anything ‘discreet’ in months.”

“This one isn't from a website,” he said, his voice dropping into that serious, velvety tone that still made my knees weak.

He led me into the living room. On the table sat a single, plain cardboard box. It looked exactly like the ones from Brookhaven Heights—brown, taped up, and unassuming. My heart started a frantic rhythm.

“You’re kidding,” I breathed. “You kept one?”

“Open it, Min Jae.”

I reached for the tape, my fingers trembling slightly. The irony wasn't lost on me. A year ago, these boxes were my only connection to the outside world. Now, they were just a memory. I pulled back the flaps, expecting a toy or a joke.

Instead, the box was empty—except for a single, small velvet case sitting in the very center.

I froze. The breath left my lungs in a sharp rush.

Kai stepped around the table, his presence grounding me. He didn't drop to a knee immediately; he just looked at me with that raw, honest intensity that had first made me "see" him.

“A year ago, I was just a guy with a scanner and a route,” Kai said softly. “And you were the guy who sent for me. We spent a long time hiding behind labels and gear, but the best thing I ever delivered was myself to your door.”

He picked up the small case and flipped it open. A simple, brushed titanium band caught the light.

“I’m done with the temporary assignments, Min Jae. I want to be your permanent resident. I want to be the one you sign for every single morning for the rest of your life.”

He finally lowered himself to one knee, looking up at me with eyes that promised a lifetime of safety.

“Min Jae... will you marry me? No discreet shipping required. I want the whole world to know.”

The ghost I used to be would have been too scared to answer. But that ghost was dead, replaced by a man who knew exactly what he wanted. I didn't even look at the ring; I looked at him—the man who had carried my burdens until I was strong enough to carry them myself.

“Yes,” I whispered, tears blurring my vision as I pulled him up to his feet. “Delivery accepted, Kai. Always.”

As he slid the ring onto my finger, I realized that while the packages had brought us together, it was the man who had stayed. And for the first time in my life, I didn't need a distraction to feel everything.