June 10, 2024
Paris
Mi-rae could not take her eyes off of him.
A tingle began at the base of her neck. It spread like wildfire through her nervous system until it reached the tips of her fingers now curled around the base of her chair.
For three weeks she had imagined Ji-pyeong. In the spaces that he left behind. Across an ocean shouldering burdens of which he would not speak. Reading yellow pages where she carefully traced her heart in blue ink. And finally, arriving in this place filled with purple that she had discovered in the midst of contemplation.
Ji-pyeong was so dashing in a white linen suit that she had never seen before. His raven hair was brushed back. His proud nose and sharp jaw were now softened by disarming dimples. The pink heart of his mouth was a beautiful smile.
It's been so long since he smiled like that.
Those telltale signs of happiness eased back into smooth planes as his lips formed a decisive line.
Ji-pyeong folded her letter and tucked it inside of his jacket. Then he began walking towards her.
And the world just stopped.
No matter how many times her memories played like a movie in her head they did not possess such power. They could not lull ambient conversations into silence. Or send music drifting away into the night air. They could not tug her fingers away from the chair and raise her up onto her feet. They could not push the breath from her lungs and out through her lips. No, memories could not do that. Only her husband could.
There was a determined look in his eyes. And his brow was gathering in concentration. His jaw set resolutely. Before her mind could form the thought, she knew what he was about to do. A thousand butterflies took flight from her belly. Swirling up in a hopeful spiral, they lifted Mi-rae onto her toes. They parted her lips in anticipation. Her tongue pressed against her teeth as he pushed an empty chair out of his way.
My love.
Sandalwood filled her head first; like the answer to a prayer. Next, his hands. They slid up her face; warm and gentle but so sure as the blood under her skin rushed to meet them. Ji-pyeong was looking only at her lips. His dark lashes swept down just as that pink heart unsealed.
Finally, Mi-rae closed her eyes. She held her breath. And she waited.
His lips pressed down on hers. Warm. Tender. He drew the peaks of her lips in first as his fingers spanned her face. And then after he had carefully worshiped there, he enveloped her lower lip. Their lips had grown so accustomed to saying goodbye. But this was different. There was a certainty to the way that he was kissing her. Ji-pyeong asked nothing of her. But he told her so many things. Each caress whispered a message: I am here. I read it all. I know you. I love you.
Mi-rae swayed into his kiss as her hands slipped around his neck. Her toes flexed up. She claimed him right back — sinking around the soft, giving flesh now slipping between her lips. Pulling him in deeper so that she could tell him things too: I am with you. I believe in you. I love you too.
He was so steady and strong as one hand slipped down to her waist to pull her closer. Kissing him was like coming home; joyously familiar but newly wonderous after a long time away. Eyes still closed, bursts of pink and white flowered in the darkness. It was safe to just float away with the dizzying brush of his mouth.
His lips slowly released hers, wistful and lingering. His breath was warm and sweet. His thumb passed across her cheek over and over, calling her eyes to open. They did so gradually, fluttering until she was looking into the brown depths of his searching gaze.
