At Long Last

Leaving on a jet plane

It was a picture of her attacking the tarte au citron at the French brasserie Lumière, her lips wearing a contented smile as she ate.

"My picky princess has already taken six mouthfuls of the tarte au citron, half of the tarte tatin, three glasses of white wine, and finished her sautéed monkfish main by the time this photo was taken."

Her lips moved in an involuntary upturn at their edges, though the rest of them remained pursed together in a tight line as she blinked back tears.

Day 2, morning. Embarrassingly, it was a close-up photo of her, still deep in slumber. Her lips were slightly parted, and her slightly wavy hair tumbled over her sleeping features.

"Told you not to drink so much."

She chuckled dryly, as two fat teardrops rolled down her cheeks.

That morning had been a memorable one; it was the first time that they had sex, the day he lost his virginity to her.

The next photo was one of her smiling for the camera somewhere along Rennweg, the medieval main pedestrian road at the Zurich old quarters.

That was the day when they went around the old quarters, doing all the fun, mindless touristy stuff while taking in the gorgeous sights of ancient churches and cobbled streets.

"The most extraordinarily beautiful sight in my otherwise ordinary life."

What he did not know, she quietly thought, was that this smile was possible only because he was by her side.

The next one was of them at Lindenhof hilltop park, holding their hands with the couple rings up, smiling through tears.

Grossmünster Cathedral was in in the background.

"Sometimes I lament our predicament, but times like this remind me that I am the luckiest man on earth."

Excruciating pain gripped her upon seeing Jeong Hyeok's face for the first time since their separation. Se-ri hunched over, before curling up into a fetal position on the seat, sobbing for all she was worth.

This won't do...Jeong Hyeok had obviously thought these Instagram photos and messages would help ease her agony on the way back, but he was wrong.

It didn't seem physically possible for her longing of him to escalate, but every photo only made her miss him more.

This was too hard; too hard to read.

Then she came to the photo of him standing in front of her with the opened ring box at Splendid Piano Bar.

A swipe towards the right revealed a photo of him putting the engagement ring on her finger.

"She said yes. I am quite sure I am the happiest man alive. I will never be able to forget this night."

How could a photo of what counts as the most blissful moment of her life be so excruciatingly painful to lay eyes upon?

Clutching her phone to her chest, the South Korean heiress stopped fighting all attempts in concealing her grief.

What was the point, really?

It was futile.

Silently, turning to face the blue skies outside, she allowed her tears to fall, mourning their ill-fated love.

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On another flight soaring high in the skies, was another heavy heart painfully shackled by the pain of separation.