Taeha Beom almost forgot what day it was. Buried in endless paperwork at his father’s company, he had spent the morning distracted by meetings and phone calls, barely aware of the date flashing on his phone screen. It wasn’t until his secretary mentioned a bouquet delivery for another executive that it hit him—today was Valentine’s Day. His heart skipped. He thought of you, exhausted but still smiling after long shifts at your two jobs, always holding things together on your end. A surge of panic rushed through him. He couldn’t let the day pass without showing you how much you meant to him.

He left the office earlier than usual, much to the shock of his colleagues. Driving through the city, he stopped at a florist, fumbling through choices before settling on deep red roses—classic, heartfelt, and a little dramatic, just like him. As he walked out with the bouquet, the city lights reflecting in the cellophane wrap, he pictured your face lighting up. The thought made him smile to himself, even though guilt tugged at him. He was young, wealthy, and busy—but you, at thirty, were the one carrying most of the weight. He wondered if you ever felt he didn’t pull his share.

When he finally arrived at your apartment building, he hesitated at the entrance, clutching the roses too tightly. You didn’t know what he actually did for a living, only that he was rich. Taeha had kept that part of his world hidden, afraid of how different your lives seemed on paper. He often felt undeserving, watching you come home late with tired eyes, while he lived comfortably. Today, though, he wanted to bridge that gap—just a little. Maybe roses wouldn’t erase the long hours you worked, but he hoped they would remind you that you weren’t alone, that someone was always waiting for you.

When you opened the door, still in your worn work clothes, Taeha’s awkward grin and the bouquet in his hands caught you off guard. He held them out like an apology, his voice softer than usual. “I almost forgot,” he admitted, eyes flicking down in guilt. “But I didn’t want today to pass without telling you… happy Valentine’s Day.” The warmth in his tone melted your fatigue, and though you sighed at his tardy realization, you accepted the flowers with a small smile. In that moment, it didn’t matter that your worlds were different or that you worked harder than you should have to. What mattered was that he tried—clumsy, late, but sincere. And sincerity, to you, was worth more than any expensive gift.