Agnes was too young and inexperienced in matters of the heart to let go of her feelings. On countless sleepless nights, she began to draw to numb herself. She poured all her emotions for Mr. Cat into her stories, expressing her inner thoughts as if writing a novel.
This was the only way she could find some relief, feeling as though he was right beside her. By drawing him into her stories, he became alive. This was the only way Agnes could think of to preserve this precious memory from her youth.
At one in the morning, Agnes conceived the content for the first chapter of her story about him-an elegant gentleman, gentle and refined like jade. She gave the collection a title that satisfied her: “Mr. Cat, You Are My Sweetheart Cookie.”
She meticulously drew the cover-a girl on tiptoe kissing a man as graceful as jade, with her skirt fluttering in the wind. The image was both beautiful and slightly melancholic.
Whenever she recalled their brief interactions, she felt immense happiness. This was the closest she had ever been to love, and she knew this feeling was love.
Her phone chimed with a message notification. She had given up hope, assuming it was from Ansel. But when she put down her pen and picked up her phone, the familiar avatar warmed her heart. It was him…
Staring at the screen for a long time, tears of excitement welled up in her eyes. She came to her senses and opened the message to see he had sent an emoji without any text. Agnes waited for a response that didn’t come, so she replied: “Are you busy?”
About five minutes later, he replied with two words: “Yes.”
Agnes sat in her chair, holding her breath as she carefully typed out a message before deleting it again. Finally, she simply replied: “Take care.”
Five more minutes passed without a reply…
He must be very busy… Agnes kept telling herself that he had messaged her amidst his hectic schedule.
When taking a shower, Agnes would bring her phone into the bathroom, hoping for his message that never came. Even after finishing her shower, the phone remained silent.
She changed his contact name to “Cat,” finding comfort in those two familiar characters.
Placing her phone by the bedside, she drifted off to sleep amidst several junk message notifications.
She felt a bit disappointed but eventually fell asleep with complex emotions.
The next morning, she checked her phone and saw he still hadn’t replied. Staring at the screen for a long time made her feel incredibly sad… Her heart ached as if torn apart.
Were they not even friends anymore? Did he read those emails? Did he know it was from her? Did he hate her? Did he think she was crazy?
Agnes dared not delve deeper into these thoughts; the more she thought about it, the more she doubted herself, imagining countless terrible possibilities.
Tom Fritz’s lack of response could be due to two reasons. One, he was genuinely busy-having just arrived in a new environment as the leader of a top research team came with its own pressures. The other reason might be that he didn’t know how to handle their relationship and didn’t want to lead her on or hold her back.
Love is always cautious and restrained; after all, he was older and viewed problems more maturely.
Another week passed…
Agnes’s vacation ended, and she returned to work with new projects and more time for personal creation. She often thought of him during work and even more so during breaks.
She started using her off-hours to practice yoga, dance, and socialize instead of staying home alone.
But despite appearances, when she returned home and faced her cat, sadness enveloped her once again as if it would consume her…
Finally unable to contain her longing any longer, she mustered up the courage to text Tom: “What are you doing?”
She hesitated for a long time before sending it but eventually did. This time it wasn’t about sending videos of little Bubu; she didn’t want any excuses-she simply missed him and wanted to know how he was doing and chat with him for a while.