After finishing his eting with Daniel, Bert t Catherine again. He looked at her thoughtfully and said,
"We’re going to have a lot of dinner engagents in the near future."
Catherine noticed how gentle his tone was when he said "we." She liked it very much—the way he unconsciously included the two of them together, as if he and she were already a family.
Bert began counting them off one by one.
"Karl and Marilyn said they want to invite us to dinner. Laurent and Dave have also asked us out. We’ll need to have a al with my father as well. And I’d like to take you to the U.S. to et my mother."
Catherine didn’t feel much about having als with Karl or Dave, but the mont he ntioned dining with his father—and going to Arica to et his mother—she imdiately grew nervous.
"Maybe... we could wait a little before eting your parents..."
Although Catherine had fully accepted Bert in her heart by now, the idea of eting parents inevitably made her anxious. Almost instinctively, she began to worry—what if his parents didn’t like her? What if they minded her past...?
All kinds of worries crowded her mind. Bert saw her tension clearly.
"I’m going to et your mother this weekend. My parents are scheduled after that. I’m not nervous at all—what are you nervous about?"
Catherine looked at him gloomily.
"You’re just coming to my house for dinner this weekend as a thank-you, that’s all. It doesn’t an anything else."
Hadn’t she already carefully conveyed Renata’s intentions to him before? How could he still think this way?
Bert acted as if he hadn’t heard her at all.
"In my heart, it already counts as a formal visit to your mother."
Catherine: "..."
In the end, she glared at him and said,
"You’re twisting words!"
Bert laughed, raised a hand, and pulled her into his arms. His voice was warm and gentle.
"I wish my parents could et you right now. Don’t worry—they won’t dislike you. You’re so wonderful. Who wouldn’t like you?"
As Bert softly reassured her and lavished her with praise, the tension in Catherine’s heart eased sowhat, replaced by a faint warmth and a growing sense of confidence.
Even if his parents didn’t like her, she believed he would never let her suffer any grievance in front of them.
She didn’t know why she trusted him so completely. She only knew that this was the feeling he gave her—that no matter what happened, no matter who they faced, he would always protect her and keep her safe.
It wasn’t like when she was with Gerald, when she had endured endless grievances in front of his parents.
The love Bert gave her made her more and more confident. Just thinking about the fact that such an outstanding man loved her—how could anyone not feel confident because of that?
On Saturday evening, Bert ca to Catherine’s ho for dinner. During the day, Catherine and her mother, Renata, busied themselves with preparations. Renata had originally wanted to show off her cooking skills, but after hearing Catherine say that Bert was very good at cooking, her enthusiasm for cooking imdiately waned.
Still, Renata was quite surprised that Bert could cook. No one would have expected soone of Bert’s status to have such skills. Even if he was an illegitimate child, he must have grown up never worrying about food or clothing, living a life of luxury.
As for Bert, the only reason he learned to cook was that he was far too picky. Most of the ti, he couldn’t get used to other people’s cooking, so he had no choice but to cook for himself.
At five in the afternoon, the doorbell at Catherine’s ho rang. Catherine went to open the door.
She thought Bert had arrived, but standing outside was Bert’s driver, his arms full of bags and boxes.
When he saw Catherine, he smiled.
"Miss Channing, Lord Washington is still downstairs getting more things. I’ll bring these up first."
Catherine was stunned. "..."
Bring these up first—what did that an? Just how many things had he brought?
This was supposed to be an invitation for dinner to express gratitude. Why was he bringing gifts?
If he felt awkward coming empty-handed, a bit of fruit would have been more than enough. Catherine glanced at the pile of items in the driver’s arms—and there was still more downstairs.
She was so speechless she didn’t know what to say. The driver set the things down by the door and then turned around to go back downstairs.
Hearing the noise, Renata ca out of the kitchen and asked,
"Is he here?"
As she spoke, she also saw the pile of items by the door. She frowned and walked over.
"What is all this?"
Catherine replied,
"Things Bert brought. He said there’s more downstairs..."
Before she could finish, the driver ca up again carrying more items. Behind him walked Bert at an unhurried pace, holding two very large paper bags, also filled with things.
Both Catherine and Renata were at a loss for words—Renata especially.
There was no way she couldn’t tell that Bert was treating this visit as a formal audience with his future mother-in-law. It seed everything she had asked her daughter to convey earlier had been in vain. His skin was really thick.
Who brings this many gifts to a simple dinner invitation? And judging by the brands of so of the health supplents the driver was carrying, all of them were extrely expensive. Only soone trying to show filial respect and curry favor with his mother-in-law would go to such extravagant lengths.
After Bert ca upstairs together with the driver, the driver helped carry all the items into the apartnt.
Renata really couldn’t say no—especially with the driver present. If she refused to accept the gifts and asked them to carry everything back down, it would make her seem as though she was deliberately embarrassing Bert in front of his own driver.
Overall, Renata was quite satisfied with Bert, so she naturally wouldn’t do anything that would cause him to lose face.
Once the driver finished his task, he took his leave. Bert handed him his car keys.
"Co back later tonight to pick up."
The driver acknowledged the order and left.
Bert had figured that since he was coming for dinner, there would inevitably be at least a few drinks in the evening, so he had made arrangents with the driver in advance.
After closing the door and going inside, Renata glanced at Bert.
"Have a seat. I’ll go cook."
"Wait a mont."
It was Bert who stopped her. He stepped forward and took two pieces of clothing out of the two large paper bags he had been carrying—one was a down jacket, the other a thick wool coat. From the style and color, it was obvious they were ant for Renata.
"These two pieces were specially designed by for you. Please try them on."
The mont Bert learned that Renata was inviting him over for dinner, he had begun preparing right away.
Although both Catherine and Renata had emphasized that this was simply a dinner invitation with no other implications, in Bert’s heart he had already treated this visit as a formal eting with his future mother-in-law. Naturally, he hadn’t allowed himself the slightest negligence.
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