From Broken to Beloved-Chapter 137- I understand

Renata took a deep breath, forcing back the sting in her eyes, and continued,

"As long as the other person truly loves her, nothing else matters to me. Looks, family background, personal ability—I don’t care about any of that. All I ask is that he knows how to care for her, to be attentive to her warmth and her pain."

When she reached this point, Renata looked at Bert solemnly.

"But you are a wealthy man, and you are exceptional—outstanding in every way. And my own failed marriage has taught me one thing: when men have money, they change."

By then, Bert already understood what Renata was trying to say—she was speaking about loyalty.

Renata went on,

"I don’t want Cici’s future love or marriage to follow the same path as mine, so I have to say the unpleasant things upfront."

Bert understood her completely. Renata herself had experienced a failed marriage, one that had ended because of a man’s infidelity. It was only natural that she would be especially cautious when it came to her daughter’s future.

When Renata finished speaking, Bert smiled faintly and responded,

"I understand what you mean."

He had already set his chopsticks down while she was speaking, listening intently. Now, with her words finished, he rested his hands loosely on his long legs, lowered his gaze, and pressed his lips together as he thought for a moment—carefully choosing his words. Then he looked back up at Renata.

"I won’t stand here and swear to you that I’ll be absolutely loyal to her forever, or that I’ll never betray her. Anyone can say those pretty promises."

His expression turned solemn.

"I believe Cici has already told you about my background. I, too, grew up without ever experiencing the warmth of a family. Cici, at least, had you by her side as she grew up—but for me, for the better part of my life, both a father’s and a mother’s love were almost entirely absent."

For some reason, as Renata watched Bert speak calmly about these things, she caught the fleeting trace of loneliness that passed through his eyes—and suddenly, her heart ached for him. Her eyes reddened without warning.

To grow up without parental love and still achieve what he had today, without straying down a dark or destructive path... it truly hadn’t been easy.

"That’s why I long more than anyone else for a stable family," Bert continued, "so that I, too, can feel what people call the warmth of a home—"

At this point, he paused, lowering his gaze to steady his emotions.

How could speaking of those memories not hurt? Of course it did. He had simply learned, over time, to bury that pain deep within himself. But in this conversation, Renata was speaking from the heart—and so was he.

For a brief moment, his emotions wavered. Yet he reined them in well. When he looked up at Renata again, his eyes were calm, deep, and steady.

"Once Cici and I form a family, I will cherish that warmth. I will devote myself to our love and our marriage—and I will never allow our children to suffer the same rootless childhoods that we endured."

Those words moved Renata far more than any grand, sworn promise ever could.

This was a man with a complicated past, a man who had grown up without familial warmth, a man whose life had been marked by hardship. More than anyone else, he yearned for happiness and warmth.

And so Renata believed him—believed that he would truly care for and nurture their marriage, just as he had said.

Because only those who know how painful suffering is can truly learn to cherish what they have.

And so, how fortunate her daughter was—to meet a man like this after all those hardships. A man who would love her, cherish her, give her a sweet love, a stable marriage, and a home.

Renata raised her hand to wipe the moisture from the corner of her eye, then lifted her glass toward Bert.

"From this day on, you are half my son. From now on, I’ll cherish both of you equally."

As a mother, thinking of Bert’s lonely and bitter early life filled Renata with genuine compassion.

She had known about Bert’s background before, of course—but hearing him speak of it in his own words, seeing the loneliness in his eyes with her own eyes, caused her maternal instincts to surge. That was why she said what she did.

It was both an affirmation of him as her son-in-law, and a declaration that she wished to love him as a son.

The shock in Bert’s heart was beyond words.

He had never expected that, in this lifetime, the warmth of a mother’s love would come from someone else’s mother.

He had never been the sentimental type. He had always been frighteningly rational—and being a man, steadfast and unyielding, he had almost never shed tears over anything. Yet at that moment, in the face of Renata’s words, he came perilously close to breaking down.

He raised his glass to meet hers, his voice catching slightly.

"Thank you."

Then he tipped his head back and drained the red wine in his glass in one go.

With a woman like Catherine by his side, and with family like Renata, his life felt free of regret.

Later, Catherine finished boiling the dumplings, and the three of them ate together. When Catherine returned after cooking, she could clearly sense that something between Renata and Bert had changed—there was a subtle difference in the atmosphere from before. She didn’t know what had happened, but she felt she should ask Bert later about what he and her mother had talked about.

After dinner, Renata went downstairs for her usual walk right on schedule. It was something the doctor had instructed her to do, so unless it was raining heavily or the weather was particularly bad, she never skipped it.

Today was no exception. Catherine thought about accompanying her.

"We’ll go with you."

"There’s no need," Renata replied. "You two have a chat."

She wanted to give the young couple some time alone.

"I’ll be with the auntie downstairs. Don’t worry about me."

She had been living there for some time now and went out to exercise every day, so she naturally got to know the neighbors. The woman on the first floor went out daily as well, and over time, the two of them had become regular walking companions.

The two older women were about the same age. Walking together each day, chatting about everyday family matters, made the exercise feel less tiring. Renata quite enjoyed it.

Since Renata insisted they not accompany her, Catherine had no choice but to give in.

After Renata left, Catherine glanced at Bert.

"Why don’t you go sit for a bit? I’ll wash the dishes."

Bert followed her into the kitchen.

"I’ll help."

Catherine hurriedly pushed him away.

"No, no, it’s fine. Just sit down."

Her kitchen was small to begin with. With someone as tall and broad-shouldered as him squeezing in as well, it would only feel more cramped.

Bert actually had something else in mind anyway, so he didn’t insist. He turned and left the kitchen.

After stepping out, Bert went straight to Catherine’s bedroom. Not seeing the wedding sketches on her desk where they had been before, he opened the drawer instead.

The reason he kept looking for those two drawings was that the photos he had taken last time were done in a bit of a rush. When he reviewed them later on his phone, he noticed that some of the details were blurry. This time, he had come back specifically to take clearer pictures.

Of course, the best solution would have been to take the original sketches with him—but that would have tipped her off. And since this was meant to be a surprise, he couldn’t let her notice anything in advance.

He felt that their relationship had already reached the right point. He was ready to start planning their wedding. He had originally been wondering what kind of wedding would make her happiest and leave her with unforgettable memories—only to discover that she already had her own vision.

That was perfect.

He would turn everything she had imagined into reality, not missing a single detail.

After finding the two sketches in the drawer, Bert studied them carefully once more and took several additional high-resolution photos of the finer details.

When Catherine finished washing the dishes and came out of the kitchen, she didn’t see Bert in the living room. She went to her bedroom instead—and found him half-reclining against her bed, head lowered as he looked at his phone, long legs crossed, his posture relaxed and languid.

He was dressed very formally today. He had already taken off his suit jacket; over his white dress shirt, he wore a dark gray V-neck cashmere sweater. At first, Catherine hadn’t understood why he was dressed so formally on a weekend. Only later did she realize—he had come to visit Renata with genuine seriousness, even putting thought into what he wore.

Still, the scene before her now made her feel faintly embarrassed.

A man sitting on her bed—it somehow felt improper. And all too easily, her mind drifted back to that night when they had fallen asleep in each other’s arms, to his restless hands, to the scorching warmth of his palms...

As those images surfaced, her face heated up without warning.