From Broken to Beloved-Chapter 193- no choice

Catherine was just about to reach for the dish with her chopsticks when Bert’s mother hurriedly stopped her.

"Don’t eat that one—it’s far too salty. Try something else."

Before Catherine could protest, she had already placed another dish onto Catherine’s small plate. Catherine withdrew her chopsticks and gave a light smile.

"Thank you, Auntie."

She lowered her head and took a bite. Perhaps because she had grown accustomed to Bert’s excellent cooking, the taste struck her as... honestly awful. Still, she couldn’t bring herself to say anything and swallowed it anyway.

When she looked up, she saw Bert’s mother watching her reaction with eager anticipation. Catherine smiled and said,

"It’s quite good."

Bert’s mother laughed, but Bert looked deeply skeptical. He picked up a bite himself, tasted it, and his brows immediately knitted together.

"The meat’s overcooked," he said bluntly. "You can barely chew it."

Catherine shot him a glare. How could he be so honest? This was his mother’s effort, after all. Catherine could tell how much care had gone into the meal, even if the taste left much to be desired.

Bert’s mother’s expression dimmed at once. She set down her chopsticks and looked apologetically at Catherine.

"I’m really sorry," she said softly. "At my age, I’m truly not very good at cooking. I wanted to give you a proper welcome, but I ended up ruining it..."

Catherine didn’t think it was ruined at all. What mattered was the intention. She comforted her gently.

"It’s alright, Auntie. We understand how much thought you put into it. And it’s fine if you’re not good at cooking—Bert and I can cook for you in the future."

That simple sentence—Bert and I—instantly softened Bert’s mother’s impression of her.

How many girls would say something like that to a mother-in-law, especially when she herself was far from a perfect one?

To say they would cook for her in the future was also to say they would take care of her, accept her as part of their lives. As a mother, how could she not feel touched by such words?

Though Bert’s mother had never expected to live with her son and daughter-in-law in the future, nor planned to return home permanently, she was still deeply moved. Smiling warmly at Catherine, she said,

"Thank you."

Bert glanced at his mother and spoke calmly,

"Let’s eat."

And so the three of them finished dinner together—facing a table that was lavish but not particularly tasty.

Later, Bert’s mother drank too much wine and became drunk. Bert and Catherine had originally planned to return to Bert’s place after dinner, but seeing her in this state, Catherine suggested,

"Why don’t we stay the night and look after Auntie?"

Bert frowned.

"Are you sure?"

He felt a certain resistance deep down. In his memory, the amount of time he had spent living under the same roof as his mother was extremely limited. He could no longer remember exactly when it began—perhaps it was after Daniel had completely abandoned them, when his mother’s temperament gradually grew sharp and caustic—that they started living apart.

He hadn’t been very old at the time. Still, he went back and forth to school alone every day. There was a driver, and there were housekeepers, but his mother only came to see him occasionally, and only when she was in a good mood.

After he became an adult, even when he visited her, it was usually nothing more than sharing a meal together. Most of the time they ate at restaurants outside; once the meal was over, they would part ways.

The only extended period they had spent together was years ago, when his mother had been hospitalized and he stayed by her side to care for her—but that, too, was long in the past.

Catherine looked at him and gave a small nod, confirming that she really did want to stay.

Left with no choice, Bert gave in to her.

They went to the other bedroom. When Catherine pushed the door open, she saw freshly changed bed linens—clean, neat, and clearly prepared in advance. She glanced at Bert and thought to herself how wise her decision had been. His mother had, in fact, been hoping they would stay the night.

Bert went into the bathroom and brought out new toiletries, and the two of them washed up.

Before going to bed, Catherine went to check on his mother once more. Just as she entered the room, she saw her struggling to sit up, apparently looking for some water. Catherine immediately went to pour a cup of warm water and brought it over.

After thanking her, Bert’s mother took the cup and drank. Catherine set the glass aside on the cabinet, but when she turned around, she noticed his mother staring at her. Startled, Catherine quickly asked,

"What’s wrong? Are you feeling nauseous? Do you need to throw up? I can help you to the bathroom."

Catherine had been drunk before—she knew how miserable it could be.

Bert’s mother shook her head slightly.

"No, I’m fine. Just a bit dizzy."

Then she added,

"Alright, you should both go back and get some rest."

Catherine reminded her gently to call them if she needed anything, then turned to leave. As she did, she realized Bert had appeared at the doorway at some point. His gaze was deep and unreadable as he looked at her. When she came out, he didn’t say anything—only lifted an arm to pull her into his embrace and led her back to their room.

Bert’s mother lay back down on the bed. At that moment, she felt she finally understood why her son had ultimately given his heart to a girl named Catherine. Gentle, kind, considerate—no man could fail to love a woman like that.

With a personality as cold, rigid, and shadowed as her son’s, only the right woman could soften him completely. If it hadn’t been his own willing choice, any woman who followed him would have suffered.

Back in the bedroom, Bert pulled Catherine into his arms and kissed her. Catherine clutched his lapels, tilting her head up to accept the kiss. When he finally released her lips, he murmured in a low voice,

"Thank you..."

She looked at him in confusion.

"For what?"

His voice was deep and heavy.

"For treating my mother the way you did. For getting along with her."

Just moments earlier, he had been standing outside his mother’s bedroom, watching Catherine carefully take care of her. Waves of warmth had washed over him, softening his heart and calming him in a way he hadn’t realized he needed.

Catherine smiled.

"She didn’t do anything to me. Of course I should get along with her."

He said stubbornly,

"Still. Thank you." 𝙛𝒓𝒆𝙚𝒘𝒆𝓫𝙣𝓸𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝒄𝒐𝓶

There was so much he wanted to thank her for—not just this. Thank her for coming into his life, for ending the desolation of his existence, for allowing him to experience love and marriage, for making his life feel whole.

Catherine echoed words he had once said to her before, smiling lightly as she spoke:

"From now on, don’t let me hear you say ’thank you’ again. And besides—gratitude isn’t something you can repay with words alone."