Chapter Text
Nayeon woke up before her alarm even had a chance to go off. She carefully slipped out of Mina’s arms, gently moving them away from her waist so she wouldn’t wake her girlfriend. Once she was free, she quietly got out of bed and headed out of the room, with the dogs padding along behind her.
She stopped by the door to greet Kookeu and Raychan first, giving them a quick pat and scratching behind their ears. Then she went into the kitchen to start the day. Setting some rice to cook and brewing coffee for herself and Mina. At the sink, she splashed cold water on her face, instantly feeling more awake, and gargled a bit of water to freshen up. After opening the balcony door to let some air in, she moved on to making a simple breakfast, scrambling eggs and cooking bacon as the kitchen slowly awoke with familiar morning sounds.
Nayeon managed to get everything done within an hour, even though she had to be at the office by nine. She didn’t really mind; it was something she was used to, cooking for Mina and taking care of both her and the dogs. As she poured coffee into two mugs, she glanced down the hallway toward the bedroom, knowing Mina was probably still curled up under the covers. Nayeon set one mug aside, and for a brief moment she imagined waking up later instead, being the one greeted with breakfast already made.
A little while later, soft footsteps sounded down the hallway. Mina appeared in the kitchen, still half-asleep but smiling, arms stretching above her head as she yawned. She hurried to Nayeon, slipping her arms around her and pressing a lingering kiss to her cheek.
“Morning, baby,” Mina murmured, nuzzling into her. “You’re always up first. I don’t know how I got so lucky.”
She let go slowly and crouched down to greet Kookeu and Raychan, laughing as they crowded around her.
Nayeon hummed. "Morning."
After that, Mina took her usual seat at the table like it was muscle memory. Nayeon slid the plate and coffee over, and Mina smiled up at her before taking a bite of the bacon.
“Seriously,” Mina said softly, reaching out to squeeze Nayeon’s hand, “this makes every morning better.”
At the sink, a single plate sat in the basin, dried bits of food clinging to it. Nayeon noted it immediately. She pointed at it with her fork as she took another bite from her plate.
“I told you not to leave dishes overnight,” she said, annoyance slipping into her voice.
Mina let out a small, sheepish giggle. “Sorry. I forgot.”
“You forgot? You were up playing all night, and you forgot?” Nayeon raised an eyebrow. She scoffed, lips pursed into a pout.
Mina sighed and set her spoon down, the sound soft against the plate. She stood and walked over, pulling lightly at Nayeon’s arm before slipping her fingers through hers. She lifted Nayeon’s hand and pressed a kiss to it.
“I’m sorry, baby,” Mina said gently. “I’ll do the dishes for a week. I really did just forget.”
Mina was always like this. Sweet, apologetic in a way that made it hard to stay upset. Nayeon felt her irritation loosen before she could stop it.
“You’re buying me cheese bread later,” Nayeon mumbled, turning her face away to hide the smile tugging at her lips.
Mina’s grin spread wide, gums showing. “Deal.”
She leaned in to kiss her, but Nayeon pushed her back lightly.
“Mina!”
“What?” Mina asked, already laughing.
“I’m still mad at you. Stop,” Nayeon said, trying to sound firm, though she was already giggling.
When Nayeon stood up from her chair, she barely had time to move before Mina gently cornered her against the counter. Mina leaned in and kissed her anyway. There was no rush in the way Mina kissed her. Just slowly and confidently, like she already knew Nayeon wouldn’t pull away for long. Nayeon’s protest faded into a quiet sigh as Mina leaned closer, the kiss deepening in that cozy flow that always seemed to pull Nayeon in.
Mina’s hand came up to cradle Nayeon’s jaw, thumb brushing softly along her cheek. The kiss went on with their tongues brushing at the edge of their mouths, tasting faintly of morning breath, eggs, and coffee, like every other morning they shared.
Nayeon eventually rested her hands against Mina’s chest, not pushing her away, just steadying herself. When Mina finally pulled back, she stayed close, forehead resting against Nayeon’s.
“You’re still mad?” Mina asked quietly, a smile already growing at the corners of her mouth.
Nayeon exhaled, eyes closed. “A little,” she said. “You always do this.”
“I don’t,” Mina said, pouting slightly, her voice gentle. “I really just forgot. I promise I won’t leave any dishes unwashed anymore.”
Nayeon rolled her eyes, a soft laugh slipping out. “And you always say that.”
“I’m sorry,” Mina said, genuinely this time, her expression softening. She lifted a hand to cup Nayeon’s cheek, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead.
“Fine,” Nayeon murmured, even as a smile tugged at her lips. “But you’re buying me a lot of cheese bread later, or you’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”
Mina laughed, relief clear in her voice now that Nayeon's irritation had passed. “Okay, baby."
Nayeon stayed where she was, fingers resting against the cool edge of the counter. Mina was still close, warm, and smiling like everything had settled neatly back into place. That was when Nayeon remembered the bills magneted to the fridge.
“Oh, babe,” Nayeon said lightly. “Before I forget.”
Mina hummed in response, distracted as she reached for her mug.
“The bills,” Nayeon continued. “The electricity and the internet—they're still unpaid.”
“Oh. Okay.” Mina paused, then nodded easily. She took a sip of her coffee. “I’ll handle it later.”
Just like that. No questions, no concern. Nayeon watched her from across the counter, waiting for something more like an acknowledgment or a pause. Maybe even a flicker of worry or responsibility, but Mina simply moved on, already at ease, and the moment slipped past them unobserved.
“Can you make sure it gets done today?” Nayeon asked gently.
“Yeah,” Mina said with a small laugh. “Of course. I’ve got time.”
That should have been reassuring. Instead, it sat heavy in Nayeon’s chest. She nodded anyway, eyes dropping briefly to the floor before she leaned back against the counter.
“How’s work been?" Nayeon asked after a moment.
“Same as usual. Consulting’s kind of slow right now.” Mina shrugged casually. She tilted her head, thinking. “But my manager says things are going to pick up soon.”
Nayeon hummed softly. She’d heard that before, a lot of times.
“Does it feel like it’s going anywhere?”
Mina hesitated this time, just a beat too long.
“Not… yet,” she admitted. “But he keeps hinting about a promotion, so I’m just waiting.”
Waiting. The word echoed uncomfortably. Again, she had heard that before already.
“You’ve been waiting for a while,” Nayeon said, carefully. She didn’t want to sound like she was pushing. “Have you ever thought about trying something else? Or at least getting out more of your comfort zone to meet people and see what’s out there?”
Mina’s brows knit together slightly, not upset, just confused. She shifted her weight, considering it.
“I don’t know,” she said slowly. “Things are fine. I’m happy. I don’t really feel like I need to change anything right now.” She smiled then, small and genuine. “Why fix something that isn’t broken?”
Nayeon swallowed, her gaze drifting around the kitchen. The dogs, clean counters, empty plates, and the routine already completed before most of the day had even begun. Everything looked fine.
“I guess…” Nayeon started, then stopped. She exhaled and tried again. “I just don’t want us to stay at the same pace forever.”
Mina reached for her hand immediately, squeezing it with calm confidence.
“We won’t,” she said easily. “We’re good. We have each other.” She smiled, certain. “You think too much.”
Nayeon smiled back, because that was what she always did. Because explaining felt harder than letting it go. Before she could say anything else, Mina glanced at the clock and straightened.
“Hey,” she said gently, brushing her thumb over Nayeon’s knuckles. “You should move. You’re going to be late for work.”
Nayeon nodded, already pacing at the bathroom.
…
Mina was already waiting by the car when Nayeon stepped out of the apartment, keys in hand. She hurried to open the passenger door before Nayeon could reach for it herself.
“Careful,” Mina said softly, holding the door steady and covering Nayeon's head to not hit the top of the car. “The seat’s still pushed back from last night.”
She adjusted it anyway, pulling it forward until Nayeon nodded in approval. Mina hurried to the driver's seat and reached over to fasten Nayeon’s seatbelt for her, fingers brushing lightly against her jacket.
“Comfy?” Mina asked with a smile.
“Mm,” Nayeon said. “Yeah.”
Mina started the engine, glancing over every so often like she always did. Checking if Nayeon looked okay, if she needed the air lower, and if the music was too loud. It was sweet. It always was.
They drove in comfortable silence for a while before Mina spoke again.
“So,” she said, casual but clearly excited. “Our fourth anniversary is coming up.”
Nayeon glanced at her with a grin. “Yeah. I was thinking about that.”
Mina waited, excitedly.
“I kind of want to go somewhere,” Nayeon said, tapping her cheek as she thought. “Maybe the mountains or the beach. Just… away for a bit.”
Mina hummed thoughtfully, fingers tightening slightly on the steering wheel.
“That sounds really nice, babe, but…” She glanced at Nayeon apologetically. “With our budget right now, maybe we stay home this year?”
Nayeon turned to her. “Stay home?”
“Yeah,” Mina said quickly, trying to soften it. “Like, we could do a stay‑in anniversary. Watch all your favorite movies or start a new series together. We never finish shows anymore.”
Nayeon nodded slowly. She understood it immediately. The numbers, the bills, the practicality of it all. It made sense.
“Right,” she said quietly. “That makes sense.”
Mina smiled, relieved. “Exactly. We can make it special without spending much.”
The rest of the drive stretched on with tension now.
“I just…” Nayeon started, then stopped. She tried again. “I don’t want it to feel like every other weekend.”
Mina frowned slightly. “But it wouldn’t be. It’s our anniversary.”
“At home?” Nayeon asked, raising an eyebrow.
“And what’s wrong with that?” Mina asked, confused rather than defensive. “We’re together. Isn’t that the important part?”
Nayeon looked at her for a moment, then let out a slow breath. “I want something new,” she said, her voice tightening. “Something that doesn’t feel like every other weekend. I want this anniversary to stand out like something I can look back on and remember as special.”
Mina frowned slightly. “I don’t understand why being together isn’t enough for you.”
“It is enough,” Nayeon said quickly. “That’s not what I mean.” She paused, searching for the right words. “I just don’t want it to feel like we’re replaying the same moments over and over. I want something fresh and memorable, something that will make this anniversary truly unforgettable."
Mina exhaled, frustration creeping in. “So staying home can’t be meaningful now?”
“That’s not what I said.”
“It kind of sounds like it,” Mina replied, hurt slipping into her voice. “Like what we already have isn’t special to you.”
The car slowed as they neared the office building. The silence between them grew thick, pressing in from all sides.
Mina finally pulled into the drop-off zone and parked. She turned to Nayeon, her grip still tight on the wheel.
“I am trying, Nayeon,” she said quietly. “I really am.”
“I know you are,” Nayeon said, staring ahead. Her throat felt tight. “I just wish you’d want more for yourself too. Not because of us, but because of you.”
Mina blinked. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“You’ve been in the same place for months,” Nayeon said gently. “Waiting and hoping. I want to see you move forward. I want to feel like we’re building toward something, not just staying comfortable.”
“My manager said a promotion’s coming,” Mina said, almost defensive now. “I’m doing fine.”
“You’ve been saying that for a while,” Nayeon replied softly. “And I’m not saying your job is bad. I’m saying I want to see you grow. I want to see us grow.”
Mina’s brows drew together. “So now something’s wrong with my work?”
“That’s not what I’m saying,” Nayeon said, her voice tired as she rubbed her temple.
The car door clicked open.
“I have to go,” Nayeon said, reaching for her bag.
Mina nodded, forcing a small smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Okay. Have a good day.” She hesitated. “I love you.”
Nayeon paused with the door half‑closed. “I love you too,” she said quietly before stepping out.
The door shut. Mina stayed parked a moment longer, staring straight ahead, still trying to understand why love suddenly didn’t feel like enough.
Mina had graduated with honors in computer engineering. Nayeon had always admired that about her, which was why it confused her that Mina chose to remain a work-from-home gaming consultant instead of pursuing something within her field. The job had been a lifeline in the years after the pandemic, but now, with time steadily moving forward and being normal, Nayeon couldn’t help feeling that Mina had settled somewhere far below her potential.
Still, the thought never came from disappointment. If anything, it came from hope. In Nayeon’s mind, their future had always been something they were working toward together. Nothing huge or dramatic. Just small, steady things. A better place to live someday with less worrying about bills stuck to the fridge and weekends that felt different from the last one. Something that felt like progress because Nayeon wasn’t asking for a completely different life. She just hoped that, eventually, they wouldn’t feel like they were standing still in the same place.
For someone like Nayeon, progress had always mattered, no matter how small the step. As long as there was growth, she believed they were headed in the right direction together. It was the same mindset she applied to her own career; she’d quietly set her focus on the editor-in-chief position at the journalism firm she’d been working at for the past two years.
Nayeon had been buried in her new project the entire day, working on an article about modern relationships and how love looked different for their generation. Most of her time had been spent reading studies, skimming interviews, and jotting down notes until her eyes started to blur from staring at the screen.
Mina, without needing to be asked, took over everything else. She fed the dogs, walked them before sunset, and even cleaned up the small mess Nayeon had left around the living room earlier. By the time evening settled in, the apartment smelled faintly of broth and toasted garlic. Mina made sure Nayeon had water within reach, her charger plugged in, and her laptop set comfortably on the table so she wouldn’t have to move much. When Nayeon finally stretched and announced she was done for the night, Mina just smiled and told her dinner was ready.
Out on the balcony, two bowls of ramen were already waiting on the small table, steam curling into the cool air. Mina had laid out strips of pork and a side plate of kimchi neatly beside them.
They sat beside each other, legs brushing under the table as they slurped their noodles. Below them, the city buzzed in its usual messy rhythm. The cars passing, distant laughter, the occasional bark from somewhere down the street.
Nayeon picked up her phone between bites. Her screen lit up with Instagram stories from Momo and Sana’s anniversary trip to Jeju.
There were beach selfies, wide shots of the ocean, plates of food that looked too pretty to eat, and one short video of the two of them laughing while dancing badly near the shore.
Nayeon giggled, turning her phone toward Mina.
“Look at them."
Mina leaned closer, shoulder brushing against hers as she squinted at the screen.
“Sana looks good in that bikini,” Nayeon added with a teasing grin.
Mina laughed softly. “They always do the most when they travel.”
Nayeon scrolled again, pausing on a photo of a huge seafood platter laid out across a wooden table.
“This looks so good,” she said, pointing at the screen. “I wish we could go somewhere like that someday.”
Mina’s chopsticks stilled mid-air. She glanced at Nayeon, searching her expression for a moment before answering.
“We can,” Mina said gently. “Maybe not right away, but one day, when we have more time and money, we can plan something like that.”
Mina smiled, hopeful. Nayeon’s face brightened almost immediately, already picturing it.
“Then I should start buying new clothes,” she said, half-joking but clearly excited. “I need beach outfits.”
Mina let out a small laugh, but it came out smaller than before.
“Let’s… save first,” she said. “We still have a few things to take care of.”
Nayeon locked her phone and set it down on the table. “Yeah.
Mina cleared her throat and reached for her drink, eyes drifting back down to her bowl.
“I mean,” she added after a pause, “trips like that are expensive anyway. They’ve probably been planning it for months.”
Nayeon nodded. “Yeah…"
“I just don’t really see the point of stressing over something we can’t afford right now,” Mina continued, shrugging lightly. “We’re doing fine as we are.”
Her tone wasn’t harsh. If anything, it sounded calm, and it was reassuring them both.
Nayeon picked at the pork on her plate, turning one strip over with her chopsticks.
“I’m not stressed,” she said quietly. “I just thought it would be nice.”
“I know—” Mina replied quickly. “—and it would be nice...” She leaned back in her chair, exhaling. “… but we’ve got bills, the dogs, groceries…” Mina gestured vaguely toward the apartment behind them. “It’s not like we’re in a place to just book flights whenever we feel like it.”
The words came out practical and reasonable. Still, something about the way she said it made Nayeon’s chest tighten.
“I wasn’t saying we should do it right now,” Nayeon said, keeping her voice even.
“I know,” Mina said again, a little faster this time. “I’m just saying we’re already doing okay. We don’t need all that extra stuff to be happy.”
Nayeon looked at her for a second before forcing a small smile back. “Yeah,” she murmured. "I get it."
They went back to eating, but the easy feeling from before didn’t return. The noodles had cooled, steam rising faintly from their bowls, and the air between them felt heavier.
“We could hit the arcade tomorrow instead,” Mina suggested, trying to break the quiet.
Nayeon pushed her food around her plate, not looking up. “I’m not really in the mood for the arcade.”
Mina hesitated, then offered another idea. “Okay… how about just a walk in the park? We could take the dogs with us.”
Nayeon’s fingers lingered over her chopsticks before she nodded softly. “That could be nice,” she said, finishing the last of her food without enthusiasm.
Mina let out a quiet sigh, noticing the small pull of distance in Nayeon’s posture. She wasn’t saying what was bothering her, but Mina could feel it.
Mina felt it the moment Nayeon slid into the car after work. The weight in her shoulders, the little crease between her brows, and the heavy sighs. She kept her hand resting lightly on Nayeon’s leg, letting her presence speak first, waiting for her to open up. Nayeon glanced down at Mina’s hand, then slowly intertwined her fingers with hers, squeezing just a little.
"Is everything okay?"
Nayeon sighed as she leaned against Mina's shoulder. "This article that I have been writing is really stressing me out. I just can't seem to get it right," Nayeon admitted, her voice filled with frustration. "Boss is breathing down my neck about it, and I'm starting to feel overwhelmed."
Mina gave Nayeon's hand a reassuring squeeze and kissed her head. She said, "Is there anything that I can help with?"
Nayeon let out another sigh. “I don’t know… I’ve been staring at the same paragraph for an hour, and it just won’t come together. I feel like I’m missing something, but I can’t figure out what.”
Mina rubbed her thumb gently over Nayeon’s hand. “You always overthink it,” she said softly. “You’ve got this. Sometimes it just takes stepping back for a bit.”
“I can’t step back,” Nayeon muttered, a little bitterly. “The deadline’s tomorrow. If I don’t get it done, it’s going to look like I’m slacking.”
Mina tightened her grip on her hand, bringing it to her lips and kissing it. “Hey… you’re not slacking. You’ve been working nonstop. Just take a breath. We can figure out a way to make it easier.”
Nayeon tilted her head, finally looking at her. “Like what?”
“Well…” Mina hesitated, then smiled. “I could help brainstorm, or even just listen while you talk it out. Sometimes saying it out loud helps, right?”
Nayeon gave a small laugh, the tension in her shoulders softening just a little. “Maybe. You’d really do that even if you don't fully understand it?"
“Of course,” Mina said immediately. “I want to help. You’re stressed, and I hate seeing you like this.”
Nayeon leaned closer, letting her fingers squeeze Mina’s hand again. “Thanks. I don’t even know what I’d do without you sometimes.”
“You’d survive,” Mina teased softly, brushing a strand of hair from Nayeon’s face. “But it would be way less fun.”
On the way home, Mina pulled into Nayeon’s favorite bakeshop without a word. A few minutes later, she came back with a small bag of pastries. The gesture was simple, as it seemed to melt some of the tension. Nayeon looked at her, a small, genuine smile at her lips.
“Thanks,” she murmured, fingers brushing Mina’s again.
No words were needed beyond that as they drove back to the apartment.
…
Even in bed, Nayeon still had her laptop on her lap, fingers flying over the keyboard as she typed possible sentences and explanations for her article. The clock on the nightstand glowed 10:00 PM. They should have been settled under the blankets, but Nayeon was still working, absorbed in her own universe.
Mina shifted beside her, propping herself up on one elbow and brushing a strand of hair from Nayeon’s face.
“Babe, it’s 10."
“I know,” Nayeon murmured without looking up, scrolling through her notes. “I just… need to finish this part.”
Mina sighed, letting her hand rest lightly on Nayeon’s arm. “You’ve been at it all day. Can’t you take a break? At least for a little while?”
“I can’t,” Nayeon admitted quietly, her shoulders slumping. “I’m so close to finishing out this part. If I stop now, I’ll lose my train of thought.”
Mina pressed her lips together, clearly not happy about it, but she nodded anyway.
“Okay,” she said, trying to sound teasing instead of disappointed. She leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to the exposed skin on Nayeon’s neck. “Just don’t forget I’m here.”
Nayeon gave a small laugh. “Never.”
The silence went on with unspoken words. Mina watched her, the way Nayeon’s brows knit together, the way her fingers hovered over the keys, afraid to lose momentum. Mina scooted closer, her body molding against Nayeon’s side, and pressed a kiss to the tense curve of her shoulder.
Nayeon chuckled, turning her head to meet Mina's gaze. "Babe, I'm working."
Mina ignored it. Her lips trailed slowly up the slope of Nayeon’s neck, warm breath brushing against her skin as she nudged the laptop slightly.
“You’ve been at this for hours,” Mina murmured. “Let me remind you how to breathe.”
“Mina…” Nayeon whined softly, tightening her grip on the laptop before it could slip away. “This is serious.”
“Please,” Mina whispered, her hand resting on Nayeon’s waist, her thumb brushing circles against the hem of her shirt. “I miss you.”
Nayeon let out a half-groan, half-laugh. She tried to shift away, but Mina’s hold was gentle and stubborn at the same time, her fingers still tracing lazy circles against her hip.
“Mina…”
“Admit it,” Mina whispered against her shoulder. “You’d rather be kissing me than staring at that screen.”
Nayeon’s focus broke for a second. She almost leaned into her, but then she shook her head with a small grin.
“Flattery won’t work,” she said. “Deadline, remember?”
Mina sighed dramatically and flopped back onto her pillow. “Fine. Fine.”
Nayeon laughed, turning to meet Mina's gaze. Mina wasn’t looking at her anymore. Her lips were pressed together, and her eyes looked glossy under the low light. She was not crying but holding something in. That was when guilt twisted sharply in Nayeon’s chest.
“Baby,” Nayeon said gently, reaching over to brush her thumb across Mina’s cheek. “You know I love you. I just really need to finish this.”
Mina sighed, hiding the slight hurt in her eyes with a playful smile. "I know. It's okay."
"Sorry," Nayeon said softly, leaning in to place a gentle kiss on Mina's forehead. "I promise we'll make up for lost time once this is done."
Mina nodded, her smile turning genuine. She reached up, pulling Nayeon down by the collar just enough to press a gentle kiss against her lips. A gentle kiss, not demanding or playful. Just warm and filled with understanding and love.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Mina whispered against her mouth. “Just finish what you need to finish.”
When Nayeon pulled back, Mina finally settled onto her pillow, turning slightly toward her instead of away. She was still close and watching. Even as Nayeon returned to typing, slower now, she could feel Mina’s hand reaching back under the blanket, finding her leg.
A usual gesture of comfort of holding onto her quietly, but this time it was not stopping her from working. She was just making sure she was still there.
Another day of Mina picking Nayeon up from work. The ride home was quiet. Mina had one hand on the steering wheel, the other tapping lightly to music playing low on the radio. Nayeon leaned her head against the window, eyes half-closed, exhaustion sitting heavy on her shoulders after her long day at work.
As soon as they stepped into the apartment, the dogs came running. Tails wagging, nails clicking against the floor, and happy little whines filling the space.
“There you are,” Nayeon cooed immediately, dropping her keys and crouching down. “Did you miss me? Huh?”
She scratched behind their ears, laughing softly as one of them licked her cheek, and then the smell hit her. That distinct awful smell can only mean one thing.
Nayeon froze for half a second before wrinkling her nose. She muttered, “Oh my God."
She slowly stood up and looked around, already knowing the answer. Her eyes landed on the corner of the living room. She exhaled hard and turned to Mina.
“Did you take the dogs out today?”
“Oh—” Mina said. She paused, keys still in her hand, and winced. “Sorry. I forgot. I got caught up in a meeting.”
Nayeon stared at her for a moment, annoyance flashing across her face. She sighed loudly and dropped her bag onto the couch.
“Oh my God, Mina,” she said, rubbing her forehead. “You’re working from home. You couldn’t take them out for five minutes?”
Mina frowned as she watched Nayeon unload her frustration and said, “I told you, I was in a meeting, and then I had to rush to pick you up.”
Nayeon didn’t answer. She walked to the cabinet, grabbed a plastic bag, and went to clean up the mess, her steps harsh and irritated.
“Seriously,” she said, voice stern. “You always forget stuff like this.”
That made Mina react as she said defensively, “I don’t always forget. I just had a busy day.”
“So did I,” Nayeon shot back. She straightened, turning to face her. “I’ve been on my feet since morning, Mina. You know how busy I am. The last thing I want to do when I get home is clean dog poop.”
Mina scoffed and tilted her head. “I’m not saying I don't understand, but I’m saying I didn’t do it on purpose.”
“It doesn’t feel like that,” Nayeon countered. “It feels like I’m the only one who remembers things.”
Mina’s eyes narrowed. “What?"
“Isn’t it?” Nayeon asked. She threw the plastic bag in the trash can. “Because this isn’t the first time.”
Mina let out a frustrated breath. “You make it sound like I don’t care.”
“I’m saying it feels like I’m carrying everything,” Nayeon said, voice rising. “Work, the apartment, the dogs—”
“I work too,” Mina interrupted, throwing her hands. “Just because I’m home doesn’t mean I’m free.”
“I know that,” Nayeon snapped, her eyebrows crossing. “But you’re there. You see them. You hear them whining.”
“And you think I don’t feel bad about it?” Mina said, eyes flashing. “You think I don’t already feel like crap when you talk to me like this?”
Silence fell between them. The dogs sat nearby, confused, tails no longer wagging.
Nayeon looked down, chest rising and falling as she tried to calm herself.
“I’m tired,” she said finally, softer but still hurt. “I just needed you to handle one thing.”
Mina’s shoulders dropped a little.
“I’m tired too,” she expressed. “And it hurts when it feels like nothing I do is enough.”
Nayeon didn’t respond right away. She washed her hands in the sink, the sound of running water filling the awkward silence. When she turned back, her expression wasn’t angry anymore. Just worn.
“I don’t think you don’t care,” she said quietly. “I just need to feel like I’m not alone in this.”
Mina swallowed, looking away for a moment before nodding. “I should’ve taken them out,” she said. “I’m sorry.”
“Next time, five minutes, Mina,” Nayeon said, calmer now. She sighed, rubbing her face. "Please just do it, even if you’re busy.”
Mina nodded again. “I will.”
They stood there in the apartment, tension still there but less intense now, but not gone.
The dogs slowly crept back over, tails wagging again, trying to fix the space between them back together.
As a journalist that mostly writes about love, Nayeon read a lot of research and books about feelings, relationships, and marriage. But there was a part of a book that Nayeon couldn’t stop thinking about.
Research shows that around four years into a relationship, many people go through a shift, not because something is wrong, but because they start paying closer attention. Familiar routines make patterns more noticeable, especially who puts in effort and who carries responsibility.
During this time, small habits that once seemed harmless can start to feel irritating, and minor issues can feel more disappointing than expected. People tend to overthink conversations, question intentions, and worry more about the future, especially about compatibility, growth, and whether the relationship still feels balanced.
This doesn’t mean love is fading. It usually means the relationship is moving from idealized feelings to a more realistic evaluation. When these changes aren’t talked about, everything may look fine on the surface, even as dissatisfaction builds over time.
It wasn’t the words themselves that bothered her. It was how easily she could place them into her own relationship with Mina. The routines, the calmness, and how things kept running smoothly because she made sure they did, how Mina moved comfortably through their days, sure that everything would be handled the way it always had been. She thought about the unpaid bills, the forgotten responsibilities, and the way conversations drifted off once Mina felt reassured. None of it felt big enough to address, yet somehow it was never small enough to ignore. The book hadn’t said this stage came with arguments or disagreements, only awareness and noticing. That part frightened her the most. Because she still loved Mina. Nothing about that had changed. But love, the book seemed to suggest, wasn’t the same as balance. And lately, Nayeon felt like she was carrying both the affection and the responsibility; she was holding them steady so nothing tipped over. She wondered if Mina felt how hard she was trying or if, from Mina’s side of things, everything seemed perfectly fine.