From Broken to Beloved-Chapter 26- unexpectedly gentle

The call Bert answered was from a designer in charge of the shopping mall project Morrison had mentioned last time.

He spoke with the designer for quite a while, exchanging opinions in a calm, low voice.

When he finally hung up and turned back to his seat, he saw the young woman fast asleep at the table.

She looked so much like a quiet, sleeping kitten—soft, delicate, and utterly defenseless.

"Catherine?"

He leaned forward slightly, his voice lowering as he called her name.

But there was no response. She was deeply asleep.

The faint shadows beneath her eyes betrayed how exhausted she must have been.

Bert had originally planned to return to the office to continue his discussion with the designer.

But now, with her sleeping here like this...

His gaze lingered on her for a moment.

In the end, he quietly took off his suit jacket and draped it gently over her shoulders.

Then, he sat down on the sofa across from her, pulled out his phone, and resumed his conversation with the designer in a low tone.

After all, he was the one who had asked her to come up here.

He couldn’t just leave her alone like this.

In that corner of the café, a slender young woman slept soundly with her head resting on her arms.

The man’s well-tailored jacket covered her, shielding her from the early autumn chill.

Across from her sat a man with a calm, composed face, quietly working on his laptop.

From time to time, he would lift his phone to speak in a subdued tone,

then frown at the screen in deep thought,

then pick up a pen to sketch a few quick outlines on a pad of paper.

And every so often, he would lift his gaze toward the woman sleeping opposite him.

Bert could easily imagine how tired Catherine must have been.

With her mother seriously ill, the mental strain alone would be crushing—

let alone taking care of her, looking for a job, and managing the household all at once.

For such a frail-looking girl, it was a heavy burden indeed.

And yet, she never once complained.

Every time he saw her, she was composed, gentle, and quietly strong.

Today’s blind date had caught Bert completely off guard.

Daniel had called him out of nowhere, asking him to meet for coffee.

Since they usually met outside the office, Bert hadn’t suspected a thing.

But when he arrived, Daniel was nowhere to be found.

He called him, only to be told that Daniel was "stuck behind some racers" and that he should wait at a certain table.

He waited and waited—but instead of Daniel, a woman with the Sophia appeared.

Bert had guessed Daniel’s intention right away.

And it irritated him more than he cared to admit.

Now that Dave and Lilian had both settled down, Daniel—being his father—naturally hoped Bert would do the same.

As he liked to say, Bert wasn’t getting any younger.

He had dropped hints before, trying to set him up with someone,

but Bert had turned him down every time, saying he had no interest in love or marriage.

After all, part of his disillusionment with family and marriage came from Daniel himself.

So perhaps out of guilt, Daniel had stopped pushing.

Bert thought he’d made his stance clear enough that Daniel wouldn’t try again.

Apparently, he was wrong—Daniel had just taken matters into his own hands this time.

The whole setup irritated him even more, and the woman’s bold, assessing gaze didn’t help.

If not for the fact that he’d mellowed out over the years—and that he still cared to save Daniel a bit of face—he might have simply stood up, flipped the table, and walked away.

The woman’s expression showed nothing but satisfaction as she leaned forward and tried to chat enthusiastically.

But within minutes, his indifference froze the conversation into silence.

Bert turned his gaze toward the window, weary of the forced encounter—

and that was when he saw Catherine, sitting alone with her cup of coffee.

She was dressed rather formally, giving her an air of quiet sophistication, with just a hint of feminine grace.

Somehow, she was far more pleasant to look at than the heavily made-up woman across from him.

He remembered that night two years ago and had looked into her background afterward.

If he wasn’t mistaken, she should be twenty-six this year.

The woman before him had introduced herself as twenty-eight—only a two-year difference,

yet somehow, it felt like an entire generation apart.

Of course, it wasn’t the years that made the difference—

it was the woman in front of him who looked worn and artificial,

while Catherine remained fresh and quietly radiant, like a blooming orchid.

The irritation burning inside him was about to spill over—

but when he saw Catherine, the anger that had been simmering in his chest suddenly cooled, if only a little.

The woman sitting across from him was still talking endlessly, saying that since he was already thirty-six, if things went well between them, they should start discussing marriage as soon as possible.

Bert’s patience wore thinner with every word.

He bit back the urge to tell her that even if he stayed single for the rest of his life, he would never marry a woman like her.

After a moment’s struggle, he managed to swallow the words down.

Still, he couldn’t guarantee how long his self-restraint would last.

And when the woman opened her mouth to speak again, he reached up and tugged loose the knot of his tie, freeing his neck from its tight constraint.

Then, without warning, he stood up.

The sudden movement startled the woman.

"W–what are you doing?"

"Wait here," he said curtly, his tone low and cold.

Then he turned and walked downstairs.

A few moments later, he came back—with the young woman who had been preparing to leave earlier.

Calmly, he introduced her to the other woman as his girlfriend.

It wasn’t that he wanted to lie to Catherine—he simply needed a way to make the other woman back off gracefully.

Better this small deception than an ugly scene.

If he lost his patience completely, things would only get messy—and after all, Daniel had been the one to arrange the meeting.

When Catherine woke, the sky outside had already turned a dusky gold.

The floor lamp beside them cast a soft circle of light over the quiet corner of the café, filling the air with a warm, tranquil glow.

Her mind was still foggy from sleep.

For a moment, she couldn’t quite remember where she was.

She rubbed her arm, which had gone numb from resting on it, and blinked drowsily at her surroundings.

Then her gaze met his—those deep, steady black eyes.

In an instant, she was wide awake.

A flicker of embarrassment crossed her face.

"I..."

She opened her mouth to speak, but the words wouldn’t come.

All she remembered was waiting for him to finish his phone call so she could excuse herself—

and somehow, she’d fallen asleep... and slept for who knew how long.

Bert closed his laptop and said evenly, "Your mother called. I told her you were still in an interview."

Catherine nearly jumped out of her seat.

She quickly grabbed her phone, her heart skipping.

H-he answered her mother’s call?!

What kind of impression would that even give?

Even if he had said she was in an interview, the fact that a man had answered her phone—

God knows what her mother would think.

The thought made her cheeks flush in panic.

Two years ago, that chaotic night had already left her mother, Renata, deeply scarred.

She had once shown her mother the video of how Lucca had set her up—

how he had poured something into a glass of juice and told the bartender to serve it to her.

She’d only wanted a drink that night, and without a second thought, she’d taken it.

Renata had asked her why she didn’t release the video publicly.

Catherine had replied that even if she did, no one would believe her.

People would just accuse her of fabricating evidence to clear her name and frame Lucca instead.

Still, she had kept every piece of evidence safe.

As the saying goes—revenge is a dish best served cold.

After the incident, rumors had spread like wildfire.

Renata had grown wary of every man who appeared around her daughter,

believing none of them to be good people—

believing, perhaps, that they were all men Lucca had sent to harm her again.

That fear had taken root deep in her heart,

and even now, it hadn’t completely faded.

During the two years she had spent abroad, every phone call with Renata always ended the same way—

with her mother reminding her to stay away from men.

Whether strangers or acquaintances, it didn’t matter.

She was better off avoiding them altogether, lest she get hurt again.

That was exactly why Catherine had panicked when she realized he had answered the call.

She could already imagine her mother’s reaction.

Then his calm voice came again, explaining simply,

"I hung up and texted her instead."

Catherine let out a small breath of relief.

Watching the tension fade from her face, Bert almost laughed.

Did she really think he was that thoughtless?

That he would actually answer her mother’s call?

If a man picked up a daughter’s phone, any parent would be alarmed—or worse, start asking who he was.

He had no interest in getting dragged into that kind of trouble.

But seeing her fast asleep, he’d also known that if he didn’t respond, Renata would worry.

So after ending the call, he’d typed out a brief message instead:

I’m still in an interview. I’ll call later.

Once he sent it, Renata didn’t call again, and peace was restored.

Now, seeing the message on her screen, Catherine felt a little awkward.

She mumbled softly, "Thank you..."

It seemed that between them, thank you had become the only phrase they ever exchanged—

she thanking him, or he thanking her.

Bert didn’t answer.

His gaze lingered on her quietly.

She still had his suit jacket draped over her shoulders, the fabric almost swallowing her slender frame, leaving only her delicate, fair face visible under the warm, golden light.

The sight was... unexpectedly gentle.

Following his gaze, Catherine lowered her eyes—

and only then realized she was still wearing his jacket.

No wonder she hadn’t felt cold.

So that was why...

Flustered, she hurriedly slipped it off and held it out to him.

"Thank you for your jacket."

If it hadn’t been for that layer of warmth, she would probably have caught a cold after napping half the afternoon in this chilly weather.

"Keep it on," he said casually as he began gathering his things to leave.

"You might catch a cold if you take it off so suddenly after sleeping."

Her first instinct was to refuse.

"No, that’s okay—"

She already felt guilty enough for troubling him this much.

How could she continue wearing his clothes?

Besides, it didn’t seem proper for a woman to be wrapped in a man’s jacket.

It was one thing to have been asleep; now that she was awake, it felt inappropriate.

His hands paused mid-motion.

He didn’t take the jacket from her.

Instead, he lifted his gaze to her, his expression unreadable.

When he finally spoke, his tone was cool and restrained,

but there was a faint edge beneath it—sharp, deliberate.

"It’s raining outside," he said evenly.

"But if you think you can afford to catch a cold—while your mother still needs you to take care of her—then by all means, don’t wear it."

His words froze her where she stood, the jacket still half-extended between them.

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