This coastal city lacked distinct seasons. The ocean breeze always carried a slight chill, never piercing but cool enough to be refreshing.
"Today's the Thanksgiving. Do you really have no family?"
Charlotte sat by the window, folding paper, while the caregiver behind her grumbled as she made my bed. "I was supposed to have the day off, but because of you, I'm stuck here."
She struggled to understand the dialect that occasionally slipped from the caregiver's lips. Even the paper-folding competition she learned of just days ago was through a mix of guessing and luck.
"Hey, stop that. No one's participating in the contest anyway."
The caregiver snatched the paper frog from Charlotte's hands, tossing it into the trash bin.
In the initial months at the nursing home, the staff treated the lucid yet family-less girl with a modicum of politeness. But nobody could tolerate her unpredictable moods or her stubbornness.
She avoided socializing and clung to her ways, spending each day folding paper frogs and littering her room with them.
The caregiver hastily finished tidying up and left. It was the Thanksgiving day, and many patients had family visiting in the cafeteria. She had to assist there.
Charlotte remained in her small room until one o'clock, hunger finally driving her out. Instinct led her to seek the kitchen, but she got lost en route.
Oliver arrived at the nursing home after a long drive, only to find Charlotte clumsily chasing a scarf lifted by the wind.
Staff members passing by remained indifferent. She couldn't catch the scarf and stumbled, spilling a pile of paper frogs from her backpack.
Oliver ordered the car to stop and hurried to Charlotte.
Suddenly, the security guard became vigilant. "Sir, might I ask—?"
Oliver's driver handed over a business card. "My employer is this lady's family. Please notify the director immediately."
Oliver approached Charlotte and helped her up from the ground. Her disheveled appearance pierced his heart.
She looked at Oliver blankly. "You're…"
"I'm Oliver." His forced smile, handsome as he was, was unbecoming.
Charlotte felt a pang of sympathy, thrusting her backpack into his arms. Inside was a heap of paper frogs.
"Are these… for me?"
Charlotte nodded.
Oliver slung the little backpack over his shoulder, patiently cleaning her face with a handkerchief.
Charlotte burst into tears. "I am hungry…"
He knew someone must have bullied Charlotte in his absence. His sadness broke through, and tears flowed.
"Why are you crying?" Charlotte wiped Oliver's tears, flustered. "I'm not hungry, don't cry…"
Oliver hugged her tightly, emotions he had held back for so long finally breaking free.
He startled Charlotte. Crying and laughing, he hold Charlotte in his arms and wouldn't let her go for a while. Charlotte thought he was a bit crazy.
Through the door, Oliver unleashed his fury at the director. Charlotte had paid, yet received no proper care. Simply because she had no family.
Oliver opened the door with a stern face as Charlotte clutched a doll, trying to escape.
He caught her, sighing. "Don't run off."
To Charlotte, it seemed she suddenly had a stern male nanny with a temper. Handsome, he could also be harsh to others. But he was kind to her. She started to like him.
"Which part of the frog do we fold first?" Oliver asked earnestly. Charlotte taught him carefully. "Start with a square, then…" Oliver learned quickly and folded beautifully. A month's worth was done in three days.
Charlotte, with nothing else to teach, said dejectedly, "I've got nothing left to show you, you can go now."
Oliver insisted, "In return, I can take you out for fun."
Charlotte, shy and not good at refusal, especially to someone she liked, acquiesced.
On a warm, sunlit afternoon, Oliver brought Charlotte home.
She didn't remember their past.
Looking at the photo of him with a beautiful woman, she said, "Your girlfriend is beautiful."
Oliver kissed her lips gently. "That's you."
Charlotte blushed, covering her mouth. "How can you be so casual about kissing someone…"
Oliver led her around every corner of the house.
Sticky notes adorned the walls, narrating their story.
Charlotte read them from the balcony railings.
Reading, a sadness washed over her. She felt like she had lost something.
Oliver never forced her to remember everything, still taking Charlotte to the office daily. After the gossipy employees were fired, no one dared to speak ill again.
On the way home, Oliver bought Charlotte cakes, letting her sit shotgun, humming tunes, speaking of fantastical things.
Many whispered that Oliver's life would be bleak. But they didn't know, with Charlotte, his every day was bright.
Charlotte's memories resurfaced one dusky evening. It was Friday, rush hour traffic jamming the wide roads. Red brake lights flickered in the sunset glow. A familiar song from the film 'Ambiguity' played. The scene was identical when Oliver, guitar in hand, confessed his feelings to Charlotte under the gentle evening breeze.
Memories flooding back.
She looked up, seeing the man no longer young beside her. Memories rushed in. She realized she had loved him for years.
"Oliver," Charlotte called softly.
"Yes?" Oliver thought she spotted a roadside stall of interest, his gaze shifting to meet Charlotte's bright, moist eyes.
His blood froze. The love of his life, in this moment, remembered him.
Charlotte smiled through tears. "Thank you, for being by my side when I woke up today."
Oliver parked, embracing Charlotte tightly.
Years of grievances dissolved into tears, soaking her collar.
"You said if you remembered everything, you'd tell me where you hid your identification document."
Oliver's voice was hoarse. "Let's marry, shall we?"
Amidst the lingering warmth of dusk, they kissed.
Through many seasonal turns, Oliver finally kept Charlotte by his side.
