Catherine, drenched all of a sudden by the rain, felt her usual gentle temperant flare up into annoyance.
Gerald didn’t bother with words—he simply pulled her into his car, sliding into the driver’s seat himself.
Catherine, furious, tried to push the door open and get out, but he locked it, leaving them both soaked, as he looked at her and growled,
"I just wanted to take you ho, do you have to react so strongly?"
Catherine, already irritated by his forceful behavior, now heard his words and let out a cold laugh:
"Why would I let you take ho?"
"Why would I let my sister’s boyfriend take ho?"
Her repeated questions pierced Gerald sharply.
"Cici, calm down," he tried to soothe her.
"I just saw the weather was bad after work, so I wanted to make sure you got ho safely..."
Gerald didn’t even know why he had co. After work, seeing the rain, he imdiately thought of Catherine—of her walking ho alone after staying at the hospital with Renata. So he drove over, ignoring Lucca’s calls.
But Catherine? She ignored every call, claiming she hadn’t heard them, though she had. She was deliberately avoiding him. Gerald hadn’t expected that the usually gentle and kind Catherine could be so cold-hearted.
Had he not taken such an earnest, caring stance, perhaps she wouldn’t have been this furious.
But Gerald’s actions only made Catherine angrier, and more than that, they felt painfully ironic.
"Gerald, I don’t know what you’re trying to do! You were the one who rejected back then, and now you co here, playing at sending ho all... ambiguously!"
"In all of Burg Eltz, any single man could take ho—but you can’t. Only you—Gerald—can’t!"
By the ti she finished, her voice was raised in a shout. Gerald had known Catherine for years, and he had never seen her lose control like this. The girl who was usually gentle and even-tempered was now furious—and shouting directly at him.
Every word she yelled pierced him straight to the heart.
Yes, he had been the one to let her go first. He had walked away. And now... what exactly was he doing?
"Isn’t what Lucca did to enough?"
Catherine’s eyes stung with unshed tears as she recalled the cruelties Lucca had put her through. Gerald’s current behavior only made her feel more contemptuous and repelled. If Lucca knew Gerald was sending her ho, who knew what she’d do next?
"What do you an? What did she do to you?"
Gerald frowned, his voice urgent, but Catherine had no intention of explaining anything to him. She turned and pounded on the car window.
"Open the door! I’m getting out!"
Still lost in thought, Gerald hesitated, refusing to unlock the door. Catherine struck the window again and again, her disgust glaring from her eyes. Finally, he relented, unlocking the car. She pushed the door open and stord into the rain. Her fallen umbrella had been blown into the middle of the street, crushed by passing cars—just like her heart at that mont.
If Gerald had only abandoned her two years ago, it wouldn’t have mattered. Even if he had later beco Lucca’s boyfriend, that would have been bearable.
But to co after her while being Lucca’s boyfriend—Catherine felt it was a raw insult.
Did he think she was still that attached to him? Did he imagine that because he had walked away, she would just throw herself back into his arms if he tried? Or did he truly see her as so worthless that she could tolerate sharing a man with another woman?
Whatever Gerald’s intentions, Catherine was deeply hurt by his irresponsible behavior. Her disappointnt in him as a man only grew.
A man who loses his dignity loses everything.
Even Catherine, a woman, could separate from a past love gracefully. But why did Gerald insist on this relentless pursuit?
So might say that those who can let go easily never loved deeply. But Catherine knew this—holding on when the outco is impossible is only self-inflicted pain.
Gerald’s parents were the kind who valued appearances above all else. They would never accept Catherine being with Gerald. By now, even Renata had completely lost faith in him, and Catherine herself felt the weight of disappointnt.
She knew perfectly well that there was no future for her and Gerald. From the mont he broke off the engagent two years ago, she had been learning to let go. Two years was enough to untangle her heart.
Originally, she had planned to take the bus ho. But after Gerald’s relentless pursuit, her mood was completely soured. Just then, a taxi ca by. Catherine flagged it down and got in, leaving.
Gerald watched her retreating figure, his hands pounding the steering wheel with force, his handso features contorted in frustration and pain.
Perhaps this was the flaw in n’s nature—possessiveness, the tornt of loving soone you know you cannot have. Society’s judgnt lood over him.
And yet, once she was declared to belong to another man, the feelings of unwillingness, anger, and frustration gnawed at him.
Ever since Riley had ntioned at the police station that Bert was Catherine’s boyfriend, Gerald had been living this kind of tortured existence, helpless and powerless.
anwhile, Catherine returned ho in a daze, to her newly rented apartnt. It shared a similar layout with her old place, but the landlord’s cozy renovation, combined with her own careful arrangent, made it elegant and comfortable.
After taking a hot shower and changing into clean, refreshing clothes, she went to the kitchen to brew so ginger tea. She had gotten soaked in the rain earlier, and wanted to prevent catching a cold.
Thinking about the tea made her mind wander to Bert—the gentlemanly way he had draped his suit jacket over her shoulders—and then to the promise she had made to design him a ring as a token of thanks.
Hastily, she went to her bedroom, sat at the desk, and picked up pen and paper to start sketching.
Having seen him change rings several tis, she already had a sense of his taste. The ideas flowed smoothly, and she quickly drafted several designs. She glanced at the ginger tea on the stove; it needed a little more ti. So she returned to the desk to refine the sketches until she felt satisfied.
Then, she picked up her phone. Bert had already saved his number under a single na: Washington.
Mysterious and understated, just like the man himself—unassuming, yet impossible to ignore.
Catherine took a deep breath and tapped the screen to dial.
After a mont, a deep, resonant voice ca through the receiver:
"Hello..."
Catherine hurriedly introduced herself:
"Hello, Mr. Washington. This is Catherine—"
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