She had originally worried that the waiting ti would be boring, but now, with these books in her hands, she completely forgot how quickly ti was passing.
Catherine didn’t look up from the book until Bert knocked on the door and ca in.
"Are you finished eating?"
Seeing him enter, Catherine hurriedly closed the book and stood up. She had been so absorbed in reading that she thought only a short while had passed—when in fact, it was already nine o’clock at night.
Bert simply responded,
"Mm."
Hearing how quiet it was outside, Catherine couldn’t help asking,
"Where are Lilian and Morrison?"
"They left after they finished eating."
He said this very calmly, his dark eyes fixed steadily on her.
Catherine didn’t know what was wrong with her. The mont she heard that Lilian and Morrison had already left, the thought that the two of them were now alone in this big house made her breathing tighten. She suddenly felt nervous.
She checked her phone again and was shocked to see that it was already nine. A wave of regret washed over her. It was so late, and she was still lingering in a man’s ho...
If Renata found out, she would definitely be angry. Even though Renata hadn’t called to ask why she wasn’t back yet, that was only because Renata thought she was still with Riley and felt reassured—so she hadn’t checked on her.
Bert glanced at her small face, full of regret.
"Let’s go. I’ll take you ho."
"Thank you..."
After thanking him, Catherine quickly headed toward the door—until he reached out and took her hand, stopping her steps.
His palm was warm, broad, and strong.
"No books you want to look at?"
Just as Catherine was about to pull her hand back, she heard him say,
"If there are, you can take them ho first."
She imdiately forgot what she was trying to do and asked in surprise,
"I can take them ho to read?"
He gave a faint smile.
"Why not? Just rember to return them."
Catherine’s face lit up.
"Of course I’ll return them."
Simple as she was, she never imagined that lending and returning would one day create another kind of entanglent.
He released her hand and walked to the bookshelf, carefully selecting a few books before handing them to her.
"These ones—I think they suit you right now."
Catherine accepted them and thanked him gratefully,
"Thank you..."
She stood there in her cream-colored sweater, holding the books in her arms. She looked at him with gratitude—and a hint of shyness—her beauty so pure and striking that Bert suddenly realized he didn’t want her to leave.
He wanted her to stay with him, even if they did nothing at all. Just having her nearby would be enough.
He had been lonely and desolate for too long. Faced with such rare warmth, he wanted to cling to it tightly.
But he also knew there was no reason to make her stay. And besides, her mother—who had just recovered and been discharged—was waiting for her at ho. So all the unspoken desires in his heart could only be pressed into a quiet,
"Let’s go."
He stepped out of the study first—if he stayed any longer, he wasn’t sure what might happen.
His suit had already been put away. When Catherine asked if he had tried it on and whether it fit, he raised a brow and replied,
"You saw try it on yesterday, didn’t you? You should know better than I do whether it fits."
Since she had put so much thought into giving him the suit, she must have noted the size and style when he tried it on yesterday. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have been able to buy it so decisively and bring it to him today.
He had deliberately refused the suit yesterday, thinking it would give him another chance to interact with her later. He didn’t expect her to buy it and bring it to him herself. It seed she couldn’t wait to draw a clear line between them.
Was he really that frightening?
Bert felt that he wasn’t particularly fierce or harsh in front of her. He had even restrained much of his usual sharpness. For so reason, Morrison’s words at dinner flashed through his mind—telling him he should smile more.
But Bert felt that always having a smile on one’s face, like Morrison, looked foolish, and it was completely incompatible with his own personality. Besides, he believed a person’s charm didn’t depend on whether they smiled.
Catherine’s heart had been exposed by his words. She cleared her throat lightly and said nothing more.
On the way sending Catherine ho, the two of them didn’t say a word. It was late, the streets outside were quiet, the car was silent except for the radio playing warm or sorrowful love songs.
Halfway through, Renata called, asking when she would be ho.
"I’ll be ho soon."
Catherine answered. But after spending the entire night at Bert’s house, her ears grew warm. She kept feeling as though she had done sothing unforgivably wrong behind Renata’s back.
Renata didn’t say much, only reminding her to co ho early before hanging up.
After arriving, Catherine said a simple goodbye and got out of the car. It wasn’t until she was walking ho with the books in her arms that she realized—she had originally thought giving him the suit would settle everything between them, yet now she had borrowed his books and would have to return them later...
She had made a neat plan, only to see everything change again.
anwhile, after watching Catherine enter her building, Bert didn’t imdiately drive off. He sat there, his expression relaxed, as he called Channing to ask about the divorce progress.
Every ti he ca into contact with Catherine, he felt a growing sense of pity toward her. And the more pity he felt, the more detestable Channing’s family beca to him, and the stronger his desire to crush them.
Channing of course knew exactly why Bert was calling. Before Bert could even ask, he started reporting:
"Bert, I planned to go handle the divorce first thing this morning, but who knew that bitch—she hid herself! Her phone’s off, and I can’t find her anywhere—"
But before he could finish, Bert cut him off with a cold laugh.
"Director Channing, you really do have a lot of excuses."
"No—I’m serious—"
Channing hurried to explain.
"I really was going to get the divorce—hello? Hello—"
Bert hung up without hesitation. Channing panicked, unsure of Bert’s attitude, wondering if Bert would abandon him completely out of anger.
But he truly had no choice. When he got up in the morning, he had grabbed Tracy to go file for divorce. Tracy probably hadn’t expected that after serving him so devotedly the night before, he would still heartlessly ntion divorce.
She was so angry she almost cried, but then cald down and said she needed to wash up. Later, he took a phone call and went out for a bit. When he returned, Tracy was gone.
Their daughter Lucca also had no idea where Tracy went. Their son was at boarding school, so he knew nothing. Channing was furious.
Lucca had thrown a fit because he insisted on divorcing Tracy. He scolded her, and Lucca left ho crying.
Now Channing was completely overwheld.
A ss at work, a ss at ho—he felt like he was going insane.
He even considered calling Catherine and begging her to say sothing nice to Bert for him, but then rembered Bert’s warning not to disturb Catherine, so he gave up the idea.
Channing knew his top priority now was to find Tracy and finalize the divorce. But at the sa ti, he felt a guilty sense of relief. If Tracy hadn’t run away today, and they really divorced, he would actually feel reluctant.
After Bert hung up with a cold expression, a sharp and ruthless glint flashed in his eyes. He had never been soft-hearted toward people like Channing. Giving him this amount of ti to handle the divorce was already generous. According to his original plan, Channing should have dragged Tracy straight to the divorce office that very day.
It seed Channing needed a little push in order to end this quickly and cleanly.
It didn’t matter. Bert already had a good guess where Tracy was hiding. Channing still didn’t know he was wearing a massive green hat on his head. Tracy’s whereabouts were most likely with the younger man she was keeping outside.
Since that was the case, Bert would help Channing find Tracy—and let him face the reality of being cheated on. By then, even if Tracy didn’t want a divorce, Channing wouldn’t want her anymore.
Morrison and Lilian stayed at the Mo residence that night. Since it was nearby, Karl happened to be there when they returned.
The mont he saw them, Karl hurried over to Lilian and said,
"Laurent, there’s sothing I want to ask your help with."
Though Karl was a few years older than Lilian, ever since Lilian married Morrison, Karl had obediently addressed Lilian as "Laurent."
Hearing Karl call Lilian "Laurent," Morrison suddenly thought of Bert and Catherine. He truly didn’t know how Karl managed to say that na so naturally. He himself would never be able to say it.
"What’s so urgent?"
Lilian asked, puzzled. She could see that Karl looked anxious.
Karl hurried to explain:
"It’s like this—Marylin is going to Manchester for a business trip tomorrow. I’m planning to go there and propose to her. Your brother’s in the design business, right? I want him to help design a ring and a suit so I can take them with to Manchester."
The plan to propose in Manchester was impulsive. When Marylin ntioned her business trip during their weekend gathering, Karl had felt depressed.
Now that she was leaving tomorrow, panic rose in him. Even though he believed in himself, even though Marylin had given him reassurance with her words, he still held resistance toward that city.
Ultimately, drowning in frustration, he felt only a proposal—one that she accepted—could ease the unease in his heart. Being able to propose successfully in the sa city where she had once been hurt would finally free him from his knot.
So he hurried to find Lilian and explained:
"Ti’s a bit tight, that’s why I want your brother to help and rush the design and production."
Hearing Karl say he wanted to propose to Marylin, neither Lilian nor Morrison showed the slightest surprise. In their eyes, Karl loved deeply and wholeheartedly—proposing and marrying her were only a matter of ti.
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