Today was her sister’s wedding, and Agnes was genuinely happy for her. However, not seeing Tom come to congratulate her left a void in her heart. Even though she knew he was unlikely to come, she still held a sliver of hope.
Throughout the following week, Agnes picked up her phone countless times, but she never received a message from Tom. Walking along the roadside in the wind, seeing similar cars always reminded her of him. Hearing love songs made her think of him uncontrollably.
Agnes began to work overtime, throwing herself entirely into her job and embarking on a frenzied journey of learning. She wanted to turn her love into motivation to make herself better. But her longing for him did not diminish. Whenever she had a moment of idleness, that longing would wash over her like a tide.
If she didn’t know that Mr. Cat was Tom Fritz, perhaps she wouldn’t have such a deep obsession. Their story might have ended with that farewell email. She guessed he might be married by now, perhaps with a happy family. From a moral standpoint, she shouldn’t disturb him anymore.
But now… knowing he was unmarried and single, and having had some intimate interactions with him, she was infatuated with this feeling-it was as beautiful as a dream. She really wanted to be with him, yet it seemed there were insurmountable barriers between them: different professions, different countries, such a large age gap…
He was calm and reserved, mature and steady, with such a good background. She often felt inferior, thinking she wasn’t worthy of him. For someone like him, there would be more suitable partners.
Do you know what someone does when they are deeply in love with another person? They would investigate his profession, look up his alma mater online, and search for any trace of him on the internet. They would go through all his posts-even if he rarely posted anything, they would dig through everything. Even the links he shared would be opened and viewed repeatedly… leading to sleepless nights.
Falling in love with someone is so draining… it’s practically torture.
Since Summer married Spencer, Summer moved into Spencer’s large villa with their parents. Spencer also invited Agnes to live with them, but she politely declined. She wasn’t in a good state; she wanted some peace.
So, she stayed in her sister’s apartment and lived a life dependent on her cat for company. It truly felt like seeing things that reminded her of people; sometimes holding Bubu made her cry uncontrollably.
She couldn’t understand why she loved him so much… it felt like it was etched into her bones. Thinking about him often brought a piercing pain.
Her sister and brother-in-law frequently came to visit her, as did Ansel.
One evening, Ansel arrived at the apartment door with a small cake in hand. After several failed attempts at entering the fingerprint password and being prompted that it was incorrect, he became puzzled and knocked on the door.
After about a minute of knocking, the door finally opened. Ansel saw Agnes standing there in pajamas with disheveled hair and a pale face, holding a cat in her arms.
“Bubu…”
Ansel’s heart sank.
“Are you sick? You didn’t answer your phone; I went to your office to pick you up after work and your colleagues said you were on leave.”
Agnes looked at him briefly before letting go of the door handle and turning back towards the sofa without answering his question.
Ansel walked in with the cake and noticed she seemed like a walking corpse. Glancing at the cat in her arms, he expressed concern, “Bubu, you shouldn’t always hold it; be careful of bacteria!”
Agnes sat down on the sofa, gently stroking the cat’s head. She looked up at him and asked, “Why are you here?” without showing any particular interest or unwelcoming attitude.
“I missed you!” Ansel placed the cake on the coffee table and checked the teapot to find no hot water; he then headed to the kitchen to boil some water for her.
“Are you okay? Do you feel unwell? Why are you taking so many days off? Do you need to go to the hospital?”
“I’m just in a bad mood; I don’t want to go to work,” was the girl’s response-she wasn’t sick.
Ansel came out of the kitchen and sat down on a chair nearby.
“Did you delete my fingerprint password? Why?”