Life in Switzerland

7 Months

Ri Jeong Hyeok had always kept his eyes on Seri, from the moment he first saw her, on that bridge in Sigriswil.

He had spent the whole day photographing monuments and landscapes, to show his brother when he would go back home, but also because he was driven by an insatiable need to look around him, to absorb the landscapes, the smells, the feeling of the clean fresh air, in his memory, down to the smallest detail.

And then his camera had landed on her, as if moving on its own, following an invisible compass.

A stranger with long hair, a slender figure that called for protection, her face bathed in tears, had caught his attention. Ri Jeong Hyeok had always been a focused man, never shifting his attention once he had a goal. But until then, his main goal had been to play piano, and to make his parents, his brother, his country proud.

Yet, that young woman, whose beautiful hands were shaking, had definitely captured his focus. Who dared to make her cry? Her grief, her distress had brought a lump to his throat. He had been hit in the heart, for a reason he would take years to understand. He, who never took a picture of anyone, had immortalized this first look at her. As if, unconsciously, he needed the image of her somewhere next to him.

When she had taken off her bag, he had had the urge to stop her. Was she going to jump? To harm herself? He had stopped her, somehow, and when she had told him with a shaking voice that he had scared her, the urge to protect had become even more stronger, almost overwhelming.

The memory of her had haunted him ever since. Through the mourning of his brother, through the drastic change in his career, something in him constantly wondered if this stranger with beautiful but sad eyes, and a disarming sincerity, was okay.

And then she had literally landed on him, the likelihood of that happening absolutely tiny. Yet there she was, with her courage, kindness, humor, quirks, and once again, his eyes couldn't leave her, he had been drawn to her, as if an irresistible magnetic field was pushing his gaze towards her.

She, who had quickly become the center of his world, she, who had given a meaning to his life. And then separation again, and finally, finally a roof that would shelter them both away from the political tensions between their two respective countries. A place where their dreams could be true.
But he had learned one thing throughout those years.

If he took his eyes off her, something was going to happen to her. She'd been kidnapped, chased in a parking lot, and shot, and every time it was when he didn't have his eyes on her.

So, when she sat up on the lounge chair, he straightened up, putting the music magazine he was reading aside. His eyes watching her every move with the attention and sharpness of a hawk, he saw her wince and massage her thigh.

"Are you okay ?"

She glanced at him through her sunglasses and nodded absently.

"I'm going to swim..."

His gaze went from the turquoise waters of the lake to her.

"It's too hot..."

She sighed, her hand massaging her stomach this time. She was at the start of the third trimester, and if the nausea of the first trimester was gone, it had given way to an insatiable hunger in the second trimester, for anything, from peanut butter mustard sandwiches to himself, and a fatigue that the heat was worsening by the moment the third trimester hit.

"I know it's hot, that's why I'm going to swim..."

"You have to stay away from the sun..."

"Do you see a parasol in the lake? Me neither. I'm going for a swim ..."