Jayci Lee’s Give Me a Reason delivers an emotionally complex second-chance romance that transcends typical genre conventions by exploring themes of family duty, cultural expectations, and personal worth. While the novel succeeds in creating authentic characters and genuine emotional stakes, it occasionally stumbles under the weight of its own ambitions, resulting in pacing issues and some underdeveloped plot threads that prevent it from achieving its full potential.
The Heart of the Story
At its core, Give Me a Reason asks a fundamental question: What happens when love collides with duty, and how do we find our way back to each other after a decade of silence? Anne Lee, a former K-drama actress returning to Los Angeles, and Frederick Nam, a fire captain who never quite recovered from their breakup, must navigate the wreckage of their past while confronting the people they’ve become.
The novel opens with Anne’s return to her childhood world, volunteering at her cousin Bethany’s elementary school Career Week. When Frederick appears as the firefighter guest speaker, the careful life Anne has built begins to unravel. Lee masterfully handles this initial encounter, allowing the reader to feel the electric tension and buried hurt that still exists between these former lovers.
Character Development: Authentic Voices in a Complex World
Anne Lee: More Than Just Another Heroine
Anne emerges as one of the more compelling protagonists in contemporary romance, primarily because Lee refuses to make her conventionally strong. Anne’s journey from the woman who sacrificed her future for family obligation to someone learning to “take up space” feels genuine and earned. Her internal monologue reveals a character wrestling with deep-seated insecurities that stem from a lifetime of being made to feel invisible by her own family.
The author skillfully depicts Anne’s struggle with self-worth through subtle moments rather than heavy-handed exposition. When Anne automatically tries to handle everything herself—from collecting moonstones to managing family crises—we see how her role as the family caretaker has shaped her inability to accept help or believe she deserves love.
Frederick Nam: Anger, Growth, and Vulnerability
Frederick’s characterization proves equally nuanced. Lee avoids the trap of creating a stereotypical angry hero by showing us the layers beneath his hurt. His years of therapy, his dedication to his firefighting career, and his genuine friendships all demonstrate how he’s built a meaningful life despite his heartbreak. Yet when Anne reappears, we see how incomplete his healing truly was.
The author’s decision to reveal Frederick’s perspective gradually creates authentic tension. His initial coldness toward Anne feels justified rather than contrived, and his slow thaw becomes believable because Lee grounds it in genuine character development rather than convenient plot devices.
The Cultural Tapestry: Korean-American Identity and Expectations
One of the novel’s strongest elements lies in its exploration of Korean-American family dynamics and cultural expectations. Lee doesn’t shy away from depicting the complex pressures Anne faces as the dutiful daughter in a traditional family structure. The author’s portrayal of Anne’s father—a man who lives off his parents’ legacy while dismissing his daughter’s sacrifices—cuts particularly deep in its authenticity.
The K-drama industry backdrop adds another layer of cultural specificity that enriches the story. Anne’s career trajectory from supporting roles to leading lady to the dreaded “auntie” roles reflects real industry ageism, while her decision to transition back to American entertainment speaks to broader questions of identity and belonging.
However, Lee occasionally falls into the trap of over-explaining cultural elements that could have been woven more seamlessly into the narrative. Some exposition about Korean family expectations feels more informative than organic to the story flow.
Writing Style: Emotional Resonance with Technical Challenges
Lee’s prose shines brightest in intimate moments between characters. Her ability to capture the awkwardness of former lovers trying to navigate normal conversation feels particularly authentic. The author has a gift for internal monologue that reveals character psychology without becoming repetitive or self-indulgent.
The novel’s structure, alternating between present-day encounters and flashbacks to their college relationship, generally serves the story well. The “Then…” sections provide crucial context for understanding the depth of Anne and Frederick’s connection and the magnitude of their loss. These glimpses into their young love feel appropriately idealistic while avoiding complete romanticization.
However, the pacing becomes uneven in the middle third of the book. The extended separation between Anne and Frederick’s reunion and their eventual honest conversation creates unnecessary dramatic tension that occasionally feels manufactured rather than organic to their character development.
Themes That Resonate
Self-Worth and the Courage to Be Seen
The novel’s exploration of self-worth proves particularly compelling. Anne’s journey from someone who sees herself as “just Anne” to recognizing her own value forms the emotional backbone of the story. Lee doesn’t offer easy answers but instead shows the gradual, sometimes painful process of learning to value oneself.
Family Obligation vs. Personal Happiness
The tension between duty and desire drives much of the novel’s conflict. Anne’s sacrifice of her education and first love to save her family from financial ruin reflects broader cultural questions about individual agency within family structures. Lee handles this theme with sensitivity, neither completely vilifying Anne’s family nor excusing their behavior.
The Nature of Forgiveness
Perhaps most intriguingly, the novel explores different types of forgiveness—forgiving others, forgiving oneself, and learning when forgiveness might not be necessary or healthy. Frederick’s journey from anger to understanding feels earned rather than rushed, while Anne’s relationship with her family raises important questions about boundaries and self-preservation.
Secondary Characters: A Mixed Ensemble
The supporting cast provides both strengths and weaknesses to the narrative. Katie and Pete, Frederick’s friends, offer genuine warmth and believable relationship dynamics that enhance rather than overshadow the main romance. Their easy banter and obvious affection for both Anne and Frederick helps ground the story in authentic friendship.
Conversely, Anne’s family members—particularly her father and sister Juliette—sometimes feel more like plot devices than fully realized characters. While their dismissive treatment of Anne serves important thematic purposes, they occasionally veer toward caricature rather than complex human beings.
Cousin Bethany emerges as a more successful secondary character, serving as both a bridge between Anne’s past and present and a representation of family relationships that actually nurture rather than drain.
The Romance: Emotional Authenticity Over Perfection
Lee deserves credit for crafting a romance that feels emotionally genuine rather than fantasy fulfillment. Anne and Frederick’s reunion isn’t smooth or immediately passionate—it’s awkward, painful, and complicated by a decade of hurt and growth. Their eventual rekindling feels earned because the author forces them to confront not just their past but who they’ve become.
The physical chemistry between the characters develops naturally from their emotional reconnection. Lee handles their intimate scenes with appropriate heat while maintaining focus on the emotional stakes. The romance succeeds because it grows from character development rather than driving it.
Areas for Improvement
While Give Me a Reason succeeds in many areas, several elements prevent it from reaching its full potential:
Pacing Inconsistencies
The novel’s middle section drags as Lee extends the period of misunderstanding between Anne and Frederick beyond what feels natural to their characters. Given their maturity and the obvious strength of their connection, some of their communication failures feel contrived.
Underdeveloped Plot Threads
Anne’s potential Hollywood career transition, introduced through her agent friend Meredith, never fully develops into a meaningful subplot. Similarly, the financial pressures that originally drove Anne to Korea feel somewhat abstract in the present-day timeline.
Resolution Timing
The resolution of Anne’s family dynamics happens somewhat abruptly in the final third of the book. Her newfound ability to set boundaries with her father and sister could have benefited from more gradual development throughout the narrative.
Comparison to Lee’s Previous Works
Readers familiar with Lee’s earlier novels—A Sweet Mess, The Dating Dare, Booked on a Feeling, and That Prince Is Mine—will recognize her signature blend of cultural specificity, emotional depth, and genuine humor. Give Me a Reason represents perhaps her most ambitious emotional territory, tackling heavier themes than her previous contemporary romances.
The novel shares DNA with Booked on a Feeling in its exploration of second chances and personal growth, but Give Me a Reason delves deeper into family trauma and cultural expectations. Fans of Lee’s lighter works might find this installment more emotionally demanding, though ultimately more rewarding.
Similar Reads for Romance Enthusiasts
Readers who appreciate Give Me a Reason‘s blend of cultural authenticity, emotional depth, and second-chance romance might enjoy:
- The Kiss Quotient by Helen Hoang – Another own-voices narrative exploring neurodiversity and family expectations
- Beach Read by Emily Henry – Second-chance romance with deeper emotional stakes
- Pride, Prejudice, and Other Flavors by Sonali Dev – Cultural family dynamics and professional women finding love
- The Unhoneymooners by Christina Lauren – Light-hearted romance with cultural elements
- Lucky in Love by Kasie West – Small-town romance with family obligation themes
Final Verdict
Give Me a Reason represents both the strengths and growing pains of contemporary romance fiction’s increasing sophistication. Lee has crafted a novel that respects both its characters and readers by refusing to offer easy answers to complex emotional questions. While the execution doesn’t always match the ambition, the novel succeeds in creating an emotionally authentic experience that resonates beyond its final page.
Anne and Frederick’s story feels particularly relevant in our current cultural moment, when questions of identity, family obligation, and personal fulfillment feel increasingly urgent. Lee’s willingness to explore the messy realities of love, duty, and self-worth elevates this beyond typical genre fare into something more substantial and lasting.
For readers seeking romance that challenges as well as satisfies, Give Me a Reason offers a compelling journey through the complexities of second chances. Despite its flaws, the novel’s emotional honesty and cultural authenticity make it a worthwhile addition to any romance library, particularly for those interested in diverse voices and perspectives within the genre.
The book succeeds in proving that the best romance novels don’t just bring two people together—they help characters become the people worthy of the love they seek. In Anne and Frederick’s case, that journey proves both painful and ultimately redemptive, offering readers a romance that feels both escapist and genuinely meaningful.
