June 12, 2024
Paris
The sky was draping Paris in unrelenting gray ribbons.
Rain battered the windows in a steady drumbeat. The church seemed lonely this morning. Its sharply angled buttresses and flowering rosette windows were blurred by the fog of summer rain.
Ji-pyeong was happy to watch the storm consume this now familiar skyline. It metered out a comforting rhythm encouraging him to do exactly what he wanted: stay in bed with his wife.
The sheets were wrapped around them, warm and snug. Mi-rae's head was rising and falling with his rib cage. Black silk splayed across his chest. Her arm was draped over his stomach. A smile teased his lips as her leg slid across him too. Even in her sleep, Mi-rae was possessive of him.
Ji-pyeong leaned down to gingerly kiss the top of her head.
I'm not going anywhere.
He wrapped an arm carefully around her. Ji-pyeong refused to take anything for granted this morning. His wife was in his arms; her scent all over his body. They were of one mind about their lives. And there was nowhere to be but here.
Ji-pyeong had not taken a step outside in Paris since wandering its streets last night.
Wait, was it last night?
He cocked his head, unsure.
No, it was the night before.
In finding one another again, Mi-rae and Ji-pyeong had lost track of time. They ignored the call of Paris just beyond the glass. Instead, they made love, mapped out the future of Atlas on the ceiling, and slept in each other's arms. Exchanging breaths as readily as ideas. Laughing and teasing and murmuring confessions. Day seeped into night as their bodies entwined.
This was how they had begun. Hidden away from the world in a hotel room filled with wondrous discoveries. But knowing her as he did now — the infinite depths of her heart— only rendered Ji-pyeong a man more desperately in love. He allowed his fingers to gently run through her hair just once before sliding them away with a silent chastisement to let his wife sleep.
Everything is going to be okay.
He let out a breath.
Ji-pyeong was calm for the first time in months. His doubts and fears seemed so silly now in retrospect. If only he had just said them out loud to Mi-rae he could have avoided months of self-inflicted torture. Despite the variables that remained, Ji-pyeong knew better than anyone what enterprises were likely to succeed. One way or another, he would sell his shares. And then with Mi-rae by his side, Atlas was going to be a success. He was never wrong — at least about things like that.
Yet it all seemed so inconsequential now in this dove gray cocoon of a morning. Ji-pyeong had been more honest with his wife than he had ever been with another person — about his insecurities as much as his dreams. And she seemed to only love him more for it. This new intimacy filled him with a kind of fulsome happiness that could not be quantified by calculations or projections. Mi-rae's tears and joyful laughter as they sat across from one another spilling their hopes so truthfully under a purple canopy made his lips fold into one another even now. He fought the urge to kick his feet in excitement lest he disturb her.
Instead, Ji-pyeong reached his free hand over to the nightstand. And then his fingers curled around Mi-rae's gift.
He held the watch up. The cream face and silver Roman numerals were so striking against the gray sky. It was an elegant timepiece because of its simplicity. One gauge pointed north. Another predicted the moon would be nearly full tonight. The hands marked the time in hours, minutes, and seconds.
