I had a long dream.
It took me back to when I was seventeen, during the summer before my final year of high school.
Cornelius was like a beam of light, suddenly shining into my gray and white world.
I was sitting on the subway, the pencil in my hand scratching across the sketchpad.
"Catch the thief! Catch him!"
I looked up, and the once quiet subway car was now filled with the sounds of running and a young boy shouting. A balding man was running quickly in front, almost about to escape the train.
Instinctively, I stretched out my foot, swiftly and accurately tripping him.
The next moment, a blonde teenager rushed forward and skillfully pinned the man down.
The police arrived, got the details, and the man quickly handed over the stolen phone.
Once the thief was taken away, the blonde teenager turned to look at me.
He had striking features, his face sharp and handsome, and his posture was tall and straight.
He raised an eyebrow and smiled, "Nice move, girl."
I was confused: "What?"
He didn't respond. Instead, he took the sketchpad from my hands, and with a few quick strokes, drew a cartoon version of me on a blank page, adding a few words next to the drawing.
"Cornelius," I murmured.
"Hello, Carlee."
That day, Cornelius and I were unknowingly filmed for our act of "heroically capturing a thief," and the video went viral online. The school even gained a bit of fame from it.
The main reason it became popular was actually because of Cornelius's striking appearance.
But as a senior in high school, with his bold blonde hair, there were some skeptical voices in the public.
Later, it was revealed that Cornelius came from a prestigious family and was top in his studies, and the rumors began to shift towards the direction of a typical idol drama.
I remained an invisible presence, though when I saw Cornelius surrounded by people at school, I couldn't help but wonder how he knew my name.
The next time I spoke to Cornelius, he had caught the stray dog I'd been feeding, little Raven.
He was crouching in a corner, his tall frame towering over the dog, holding it by the neck as he tearfully accused, "Spit out the strawberries I grew!"
Cornelius had planted a pot of strawberries in the corner, and Raven had eaten them all.
"Carlee, is this your dog?"
I quickly hid my takeaway meal behind me and said casually, "No."
"It clearly is!"
I couldn't help but feel a little awkward, thinking how childish this was.
Yet, Cornelius persisted, demanding I compensate for the strawberries.
Where was I supposed to buy strawberries for him?
I took out a piece of paper and drew his strawberries.
"I didn't bring any colors with me, but next time..."
When I looked up again, Cornelius was much closer, and I could feel his hair brush against my face.
He was carefully examining my drawing, and in that moment, my heart suddenly raced.
"You draw really well, Carlee," he said.
I still couldn't ask him how he knew my name.
One day, I was cornered by a group of girls after school.
They asked me how I knew Cornelius.
I said I didn't know and tried to walk away.
They started insulting me, telling me to stay away from Cornelius, and even laid their hands on me.
I was trapped in a corner, unable to fight back.
My sketchpad was stomped on, and my fingers were bruised.
Since childhood, I had never been protected, so I was used to such bullying.
"Carlee!"
This time, unexpectedly, Cornelius appeared.
He looked so anxious, while I was in such a mess, and instinctively, I didn't want him to see me.
Cornelius gently wiped the blood from my lips, telling me, "Don't be afraid, I'm here."
I looked at him, speechless, but there was a strange sense of familiarity.
He looked gentle, yet his eyes were icy cold.
The girl who had stepped on my hand was punished by Cornelius—he broke her finger.
Amidst her painful cries, Cornelius told me, "If anyone bullies you in the future, you can do the same."
"As long as I'm here, no one will bully you."
Cornelius said, "This is what you used to tell me."
He carried me home on his back, the evening breeze brushing my face. I remembered the things from years ago.
I remember seeing a bunch of kids bully a little chubby boy. They called him "fatty", and he didn't respond or stand up for himself.
I helped him, scaring the bullies away by threatening to call for help.
I told the chubby boy that next time someone bullies him, he should stand up for himself. Then, they wouldn't dare.
I said to him, "I'm here, I'll help you."
Later, the chubby boy always followed me, and he became the only friend I had back then.
I liked drawing.
One day, I saw a pot of beautiful strawberries on a neighbor's balcony. I liked them so much that I often observed them.
From green to red, I drew them all.
Maybe it was because I loved the feeling of plants growing vigorously—it was so healing.
The chubby boy followed me and promised to grow strawberries for me one day.
Slowly, this story became distant...
I was lying on Cornelius's back, laughing out loud.
"So, the chubby boy has grown this tall, and he's not chubby anymore."
Cornelius also laughed: "Yeah, the chubby boy finally found you."
A sprinkler truck came from behind on the road, and there was no way to avoid it. Cornelius put me down, suddenly pulling me into his arms and turning his body.
I was tightly protected by him, but the sprinkler truck drenched him with water, the droplets running down his golden hair and falling on my face.
He said, "From now on, I'll protect you."
Cornelius entered my world, and it felt like I had found the light that belonged to me.
At eighteen, Cornelius confessed to me.
His confession gift was special: a pot of strawberries he had grown himself.
Though it was a bit odd, I really liked it.
The strawberries hadn't ripened yet, but we were already together.
In college, my classmates envied me for having such a wonderful boyfriend.
Cornelius was really great. He took care of me meticulously, always romantic and considerate.
He never cared about my background; instead, he was deeply concerned about my past.
With him by my side, I became better and better.
So, after graduation, I didn't hesitate to marry him.
Later, my parents retired early, and he inherited the company. He became busy often, but every day, he still made time to have meals with me.
He said, once he finished a few major projects, he would take me on a world tour.
He said he had come too late, and he would treat me well for the rest of his life.
He said he loved me, deeply, deeply.
He said he would always be by my side.
He said...
"Let's get a divorce."
