From Broken to Beloved-Chapter 157- It was useless.

Catherine herself didn’t really mind. What worried her was that Renata wouldn’t be able to endure the cold and might catch a chill.

Renata’s health had never fully recovered after the surgery; her immune system was surely weaker than before. Just as Catherine was fretting over this, Renata, standing beside her, pulled her padded coat tighter around herself and sneezed. 𝕗𝕣𝐞𝐞𝘄𝐞𝚋𝚗𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹.𝚌𝕠𝚖

The worry in Catherine’s eyes immediately spilled over. She looked at Renata and said hesitantly,

"What should we do now? Maybe we should find a nearby budget hotel and stay there for a few days."

Perhaps because she and Renata had depended on each other for so many years, Catherine had grown used to turning to Renata first whenever something happened—rather than to the man standing quietly beside her, strong enough to protect her from anything.

She didn’t rely on him first. Of course, that didn’t sit very well with Bert. But he understood. After all these years of living side by side, discussing everything together had become second nature for them. It was fine. In time, he could guide her gently, let her learn to depend on him instead.

Renata’s immediate reaction to Catherine’s suggestion was to refuse.

"I’m fine. It’s just a sneeze," she said. "We’ll manage like this for a few days. Staying at a hotel costs money, doesn’t it?"

What Renata was thinking about was saving money. She truly didn’t believe that the lack of heating was something unbearable.

Bert, standing nearby, offered kindly,

"How about this—why don’t you come stay at my place for a while? My place isn’t in this area, so the heating shouldn’t be a problem."

Bert hadn’t expected fate to give him such perfect help. He’d been racking his brain for a good excuse to get Catherine to move in with him, and now that her heating was broken, suggesting they stay with him—just temporarily—couldn’t have been more reasonable.

Of course, he could only say "temporarily." Once they moved in, he had no intention of letting them move out again.

Catherine glanced at him, clearly not expecting him to be so direct—and so bold—in inviting them to stay at his place. She couldn’t help but grumble inwardly. He really knew how to seize an opportunity. A sly old fox.

Renata, however, smiled and declined politely.

"No, no, that won’t be necessary. The two of us can manage just fine. We don’t want to trouble you."

Bert responded calmly,

"My place is quite spacious, with plenty of rooms. And it’s not really any trouble at all—we’re family, aren’t we?"

That single word—family—left Renata momentarily at a loss for words. Yes, they were family. Hadn’t she already acknowledged him as Catherine’s other half?

Bert went on,

"Rather than saying you’d be staying at my place temporarily, it would be more accurate to say you’d be keeping me company. Living alone is truly too lonely—no one to talk to, no warmth, no life in the house at all."

When Bert said these words, his expression was utterly sincere. It was clear that he truly wanted them to stay, and that this was not merely a polite formality.

Renata glanced at her daughter. Catherine chose to remain silent, keeping a neutral stance.

She couldn’t very well encourage her mother to move in, could she? Renata would surely think she lacked self-respect, that as a young woman she was being careless with herself.

Yet that very silence was also a kind of tacit consent. It indirectly revealed that she, too, wanted to move in. How could Renata not understand her own daughter? She sighed inwardly. It seemed that whatever should or shouldn’t have happened between the two of them had already happened.

Renata also knew perfectly well that if they truly moved in this time, it would be difficult to move out again. And that meant she was, in effect, agreeing to her daughter formally living with Bert—and stepping toward marriage.

"All right, then."

In the end, Renata agreed.

She trusted Bert. She believed he could give her daughter a warm home, and she believed he was capable of shouldering that responsibility.

So, after a brief and simple packing of their belongings, Renata and Catherine followed Bert and moved into his apartment.

After showing them around the entire apartment, Bert took the initiative to offer up the master bedroom to Renata.

"The master bedroom gets plenty of sunlight," he said. "You can sit in the sun during the day if you like. Please take the master—I’ll pack up my things."

The master bedroom was where Bert usually lived and slept, so he naturally started to gather his belongings.

Renata stopped him.

"There’s no need. All three bedrooms here face south. I’ll just take any one of them. The lighting should be good in all of them."

Of course Renata wasn’t going to take the master bedroom. The fact that he even had the thought was already enough. She’d taken a quick look around earlier—every room had good sunlight. Given the price of this place, there wasn’t a single corner that didn’t come with its advantages. Any room here was far better than the place she and Catherine had lived in before.

In the end, Renata chose the bedroom on one side. Catherine said she would take the middle one.

Renata glanced at her, but said nothing.

Bert accepted the arrangement without comment. Catherine didn’t want Renata to know that her relationship with Bert had already progressed to that extent, nor did she want to openly move in with him in front of her mother. Without a proper marriage, living together under her mother’s eyes felt... hard to justify.

What she didn’t realize was that since Renata had already agreed to move in, she had inevitably thought of certain things. Bert, of course, had also guessed Renata’s thoughts. Still, he chose to go along with Catherine’s self-deception.

She could stay wherever she liked. In the end, it was his territory—and she wasn’t going anywhere.

By the time everything was settled, it was already quite late at night. The three of them washed up and went to bed, each in their own room.

No sooner had Catherine lain down than she received a message from Bert.

Bert:

Are you coming to my room, or should I come to yours?

Catherine felt embarrassed.

Catherine:

Don’t mess around. My mom is still here.

Bert replied almost instantly.

Bert:

She’s definitely asleep by now. Besides, we’ll keep our voices down—let’s try not to disturb her.

Catherine’s face burned red.

Catherine:

Haven’t you had enough after all the chaos tonight? Aren’t you tired? I need to sleep!

She deliberately added an exclamation mark to make her refusal unmistakably firm, then climbed out of bed and locked her bedroom door.

It was useless.

Not long after, her door opened anyway. This was his place—what room key could he possibly not have?

Furious, Catherine yanked the blanket over herself, determined to ignore him.

Bert climbed onto the bed and pulled her into his arms. He lifted the blanket, kissed her—her soft lips, her long, graceful neck. At first, Catherine struggled, but soon she lost all strength to resist, allowing him to hold her as he pleased.

Bert had always thought of himself as someone with strong self-control. He never believed he had much desire in that regard—otherwise, how would he have gotten through all those years?

Yet ever since he’d fallen for Catherine, every time he was with her, those thoughts surfaced uncontrollably, an instinctive longing he couldn’t suppress.

And now that she had moved onto his territory, how could he possibly let go of such a perfect convergence of time, place, and circumstance? Only after fully satisfying that closeness did he finally release her.

Afterward, Bert held the completely limp Catherine in his arms. In a low, lazy voice still laced with lingering warmth, he murmured,

"From now on, when something happens, I want to be the first person you think of."

He was referring to how she hadn’t turned to him first that evening. As her man, he wanted to be the one she relied on first—the one who stepped forward to protect her no matter what.

Catherine knew exactly what he meant. She was deeply moved. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to depend on him—it was just that she had been strong on her own for far too long...

Before she could say anything, she heard him speak again,

"I’m your man. From now on, whatever happens, you tell me first. Understand?"

Those words—I’m your man—made Catherine’s face flush faintly. She buried herself in his broad chest and answered softly,

"Mm..."

Her gentle, compliant response made Bert ache with fondness. His heart felt as though it were melting. He tightened his arms around her once more, then lowered his head to kiss her again.