It's Way Too Late To Stay Locked Up Inside Ourselves

Three Days (Part Two)

God she is so beautiful.

Jeong-hyeok turned over onto his side and drank in the sight of Se-ri asleep next to him. It was the first morning in six months that was not beholden to others. And it was only the second time he had ever woken up next to her.

Sunlight streamed through the windows. The evening's storms had given way to a still morning. He slid his hands under his face and burrowed deeper into the duvet. Se-ri's dark hair was splayed across the white pillow; like the charcoal of the bare trees against the sky outside. The delicate curve of her collar bone was peeking out from under her shirt. It all felt like a secret just for him. This right here -- this is real. Very little in his life felt that way.

He exhaled. Last night had been more than he ever could have imagined. As much as Jeong-hyeok had fantasized about being with her, nothing could have prepared him for the reality. And now all he wanted to do was be with her. Jeong-hyeok's eyes focused on her face, as if trying to seal the image in his memory. This would have to sustain him for however long their next separation would last. The nature of their fleeting time together was always lodged in the back of his mind — like a splinter just under the surface of the skin.

Six months had dragged by like walking on a glass. Day after day on the road, giving speeches, and talking to strangers - all while playing a role. The more the campaign took him away from her, the more Jeong-hyeok felt like he was withering on the inside. He had come to know her mind intimately over months of conversation. He saw situations through her eyes; heard people's words with her ears. Jeong-hyeok now only felt whole with Se-ri. And like half of who he was supposed to be without her.

It was a relief to discover last night that it was the same for her; that their separation had not chipped away at her feelings. Se-ri could still peer into the deepest parts of him and ask the questions that no one else did. And yet as the evening had drawn to a close, the reality of their situation beyond this weekend gnawed at the edges of his happiness. No matter how perfect it was here, Jeong-hyeok would have to walk away without a firm reunion in sight. They were still beholden to fates beyond their control even as they grasped the present together.

Two days left. Jeong-hyeok felt a pang of dread. And then the dark thoughts came in waves. How am I supposed to leave her again? His throat grew tight. How can I get through another three months of this? What if my father wins? A clawing panic rose in his chest. He sat up and tried to breathe. Jeong-hyeok clenched his fists and pressed them to his forehead as if they could stop the tumult within.

This was an escape. In two days he would be back to living a lie. The last six months had worn on his conscience — it was now a raw wound that would not heal. No matter what he did, Jeong-hyeok felt like he was letting down someone that he loved. Every day he lied to his parents by omission - hiding his messages and calls with Se-ri, relying on his friends to cover up their rare meetings, staying silent about his desire to never return to the agency. Indeed, Jeong-hyeok felt like he was lying to the whole world while playing the part of a dutiful political son. The pretense that Yoon Se-ri was simply a woman that he had protected six months ago felt blasphemous.

Now that he was with her again it felt unbearable to continue. Jeong-hyeok had discussed his feelings with no one. He was worried about Se-ri's mental health during his absence and so he held back for her sake. Nor could his friends understand the emotional mire that was his family.

Jeong-hyeok's silence had yielded a tenuous peace -- his father's approval came only with the sharp edge of knowing that it was not based on truth. Ri Chung-ryeol seemed willfully ignorant of his son's quiet misery. They had not discussed Se-ri since that night in his office. Did his father believe him to be so mercurial that he had already given up on her? Or did he just hope that the chaebol heiress had forgotten about him? A national race with a three point margin left little time for discussing such delicate topics beyond the ears of campaign staff.