HEART LIES

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EURYDICE

SK inc: Please be ready at 8:00 PM.

Sk inc: Dresscode soirée

The message announced Sa-rang’s and Ji-Seong’s final date; she was glad to have held the distance.

Especially now, the pains were more persistent, and her body flinched. This night probably signed one of her last nocturnal outings.

Soiree, she wished the message were more precise as she slid the hangars of her dressing to settle for a pale blue Elie Saab dress. The model was extended, with long sleeves, like the dress she wore at her first rendezvous. Some parts had lace and were see-through. Close to the body, the dress spread out from the knees in a transparent trail; the ensemble was elegant, making it fit the term soiree.

Sa-rang let her hair down. Having worn her hair in a bob for many years, she loved having her auburn dyed hair sway freely down her back. As for the makeup, she made it very light, opting for contouring in the highlight, which gave a face a luminous glow.

One would think she went for a kill in seduction, but as she put on her Mikimoto Morning Dew earrings, not only did Sa-rang realize it was for her pleasure, but she wondered what would become of all these gowns and jewelry she collected over the years.

Soon she would be 6ft under, and these things would remain. Sonmi cared not for material things, so Sa-rang’s accessories would be orphans.

Maybe Yoona would like them; she made a mental note to add her wardrobe to Yoona’s list. Preparing for death was more natural than she expected; with a bit of organization, one could go in peace. Sa-rang knew she was trying to be pragmatic because she promised herself she would be that way.

As always, the driver was on time, Sa-rang regretted not having spoken to the man more. It was the last time she would see him, and she felt a tiny pinch in her heart.

The car stopped in front of the Seoul Opera, Sa-rang liked classical music, but she had rare occasions to go. She made many excuses when with In-Sung, she found time to meet Ji-Seong without much hassle. Sa-rang mistreated her ex-husband, and as she got out of the car, she felt ashamed of herself.

It was too late now; what was done was done. God had blessed her with a gentle and kind man, but she spoiled everything. Sa rang exhaled; she had repaired half her wrongs by setting things right via In-Soo.

Once again, the chauffeur handed her an envelope, there were many people, and she had a little apprehension when she approached the counter, but she was stopped before by someone who recognized the envelope, “this way, madame,” said the man.

“Don’t you need the envelope?”

The man smiled, “Madame, it’s empty.”

Sa-rang opened the envelope. The man was right; it was empty. It made sense; even if someone took it, no one could suspect its meaning.

The man took her to a private box. As usual, she was alone Sa-rang did not even hear Ji-Seong enter when the lights went out.

It was a representation in Italian :

Dolcissimo sospiro

Ch’esci da quella bocca

Ove d’amor ogni dolcezza fiocca;

Deh, vieni a raddolcire

L’amaro mio dolore.

Ecco, ch’io t’apro il core,

Ma, folle, a chi ridico il mio martire?

Ad un sospiro errante

Che forse vola in sen ad altro amante

The two listened, Sa-rang’s eye focused on the stage alone, twinkling in the dark marveled by the play and swayed by the voices. Whereas Ji-Seong used his ears, he did not need to look at the stage when all he desired to see was before him.

His stare was upon Sa-rang alone, reaping all the benefits of the moment. Here, Ji-Seong could contemplate her without fearing gossiping mouths.

Ji-Seong forgot the bossy woman’s daily mistreatment; in the intimate booth, he could fill himself up with the scent of her hair and the sweet fragrances, which were her signature.

He watched her silently. Sa-rang made abstraction of him and tried to concentrate, but his aura, strong, devoured the space around them. It sucked in the air, making it unbreathable. Sa-Rang dared not turn as her heart raced with the sopranos voices, which lifted crescendo.

Ji-Seong grasped her hand in a single and rapid gesture; he stroked the opposite side of her face pulling strands of her hair, making her turn on the same occasion. Their gazes met at the thump and wails of the orchestra, but for the couple, all was silent as they stared at the reflection of each other’s emptiness in the other’s eye.

Ji-Seong let go of her hair and slid his head on her shoulders.

Sa rang breath was stuck, these rendezvous with Ji-Seong were like and electrocardiograms, forever peaking and falling.

Did her life lack so many sentiments for her to experience such an explosion of emotion?

Nothing happened in particular during their outings, yet meeting the Knight made Sa rang’s heartbeat outrageously.

Even there, with only his head leaning on her shoulder, the sensation was violent; Sa-rang howled inside. This was new; the woman was used to pure, straightforward feelings, but what she felt now was unexplainable and complicated. Sa rang found herself paralyzed by the emotions.

They sat quiet; Ji-Seong, in a true gentleman style, did not attempt any more displaced gestures until the end. For the man, being next to her inhaling her scent was intoxicating like a lullaby and enough.

Sa-rang plunged her consciousness into Eurydice’s tale, which made her shed tears. Did this type of love exist?

One where one would go to the depths of hell to save you?

Even if it was a lie, the tale left its mark.

The public acknowledged the performance with roaring claps and whistles, making Ji-Seong jolt from his seat.

“Did you sleep?”

“No, never, “said the man who saw Sa rang in the light for the first time of the evening.

Ji-Seong felt like a child looking at this woman who embodied everything he imagined a woman to be.

Sa-rang was not just elegant; she was breathtaking.

“Ji-Seong?”

“Oh, eh, let’s wait.”

There was a knock on the box’s door; a woman came to get them bringing them to a private exit far from prying eyes. Sa-Rang understood how the escorts did not get caught, there were escape routes everywhere, and the employees observed total discretion.

Hyeon Ju’s business was correctly put together.

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