“Do I have wings? Can I fly?! It takes at least 20 minutes by car! And it’s raining, making it hard to get a cab!” Agnes entered the elevator, still on the phone. She was fully awake and angrily said, “Stay right there! If I can’t find you, I’ll never speak to you again!” With that, she hung up and rushed out of the elevator.
Agnes had no romantic feelings for Ansel, but they had grown up together, painted together, attended school together, and her professor was his father. Their relationship was more like family than just classmates.
She was lucky to catch a taxi as soon as she got downstairs and headed straight for Ansel’s location.
After several minutes, Agnes got out of the car and hurried to the riverside with a large black umbrella. She was soaked within a few steps by the pouring rain. From a distance, she saw a solitary figure sitting on a bench, drenched by the heavy rain.
Angry at his self-destructive behavior over a broken heart, she was nonetheless relieved to see he hadn’t jumped into the river or off a building. At least she could give Mr. Johnsons an explanation.
Standing before him, she held the large black umbrella over his head without saying a word. She was out of breath, angry yet concerned.
Ansel was freezing but felt warmth upon seeing her. He looked up at her with rain-soaked face and a slight smile.
Agnes took out her phone and called her father, “I found Ansel. Don’t worry, he’s safe. I’ll bring him back.”
After hanging up, she looked down at him and said, “Get up. Come home with me!”
Ansel stood up and took the umbrella from her hand, holding it for both of them as they walked along the riverbank.
They took a taxi back home. Both were soaked through; the rain was relentless that night.
“Take a hot bath and wear my clothes. I’ll get them for you,” Agnes said as she headed to her bedroom.
But Ansel grabbed her arm, stopping her in her tracks. She didn’t turn around but felt a slight pang in her heart.
“You do care about me, don’t you?” Ansel asked.
She turned to look at him wearily. Was he still asking? Wasn’t it clear enough?
Feeling bitter, Ansel couldn’t help but pull her into an embrace and held her tightly for a long time.
Agnes smelled alcohol on him and frowned. “Have you been drinking?”
“Yes,” he nodded like an injured child, burying his head beside hers, cherishing this moment to hold the girl he loved dearly.
He wanted to remember this embrace… He knew no matter how much he clung to her, she would never love him back.
“Alright, it’s late. I’ll get your clothes,” Agnes gently pushed him away with a soothing tone to calm his wounded heart.
Ansel let go of her without insisting further.
After his bath, wearing Agnes’s pajamas, Ansel felt very down but accepted reality.
Agnes personally made him a bowl of ginger soup and brought it to him. “Drink this while it’s hot; it’ll ward off the cold. I called your dad; you’ll stay here tonight.”
Despite being offered shelter, he wasn’t happy; his heart felt heavy. Still, he took the warm bowl and looked up at her. “Who is that man?”