June 18, 2024
Seoul
"This is surreal."
For a moment, Ji-pyeong seemed dazed. They were standing in the middle of an atrium alive with primary colors. A low buzz of conversation rose from people huddled around small tables. Anticipation was palpable. The Sandbox campus seemed more like a whimsical university lounge than a place of business. She smiled, bemused by the sharp contrast with her New York City law offices. This was a far cry from that luxurious tomb encased in marble and chrome. The energy was infectious even if everyone looked as exhausted and nervous as she felt.
"What's going on?"
Mi-rae whispered it out of consideration for the man in the red self declared CEO shirt snoring lightly. Ji-pyeong leaned his head down towards her.
"They must be in the middle of a batch. Right after a hackathon probably from the looks of it. They're waiting to hear who gets selected for seed investment."
Kind of like us.
Mi-rae looked up at Ji-pyeong. And then she followed his gaze. There was a projection of a girl on a swing upon the far wall. The silhouette was moving back and forth in an endless cycle. She never fell. Nor did she reach higher than the prescribed parabola. Mi-rae knew the story of Sandbox — how it was entwined not only with her husband's career but his personal history too. A year ago she might have felt a pang of jealousy. No more. She could already feel her husband once again looking at her.
Ji-pyeong grabbed her hand.
"It's strange that I'm the one about to do a pitch here. Grandmother's son inspired this place. President Yoon recruited me. I met you because of SH..."
His voice trailed off as his fingers slid between hers.
Their eyes met.
"You are going to be wonderful, my love."
They rehearsed their presentation at least twenty times in their hotel room since arriving in Seoul. Ji-pyeong knew how good he was at this. And yet, her fingers tightened around his hand to offer her faith anyway. The corner of his mouth tugged up. He turned to fully face her. A group of people in their early twenties shuffled by. One murmured the name "Han Ji-pyeong" with a quiet reverence before being vigorously hushed. Ji-pyeong's mouth quirked. And then he stepped closer.
"You are too. There is no one I would rather have standing beside me today."
His voice was thick with emotion. But resolute. It steadied her. Ji-pyeong was so handsome and confident in his cobalt blue suit; his dark hair swept smoothly back. As Mi-rae looked up at him, her heart swelled with the belief that he could do anything. And his eyes were telling her that she was capable of the same.
Mi-rae squeezed his hand. Then she released it to reach up to the knot of his black tie. She felt an impulsive need to straighten it even though the stripe of silk was already impeccable. Her fingers then fluttered nervously to the white dash of a pocket square. But before she touched it, Ji-pyeong caught her hand. She smiled at him.
"The blue was a good choice."
"It's my lucky suit."
Mi-rae tilted her head curiously. His eyes twinkled.
"It's the suit that I was wearing on the day that Kim Mi-rae told me that she loved me."
Her breath caught in her throat. Memories of that long drive which ultimately led here flooded her mind. Ji-pyeong pressed her hand against his chest.
