From Broken to Beloved-Chapter 39- a little drunkard

As she was speaking, a young nurse pushed the door open and came in, carrying a small, beautiful cake. She smiled at Catherine and said,

"Miss Channing, happy birthday! Your mother asked us to order this cake for you yesterday."

Catherine’s tears were threatening to fall, moved both by Renata’s thoughtfulness and by the sincere gesture of the nurses.

She stepped forward to take the cake and thanked them, deeply touched,

"Thank you."

"You’re welcome."

After completing her task, the young nurse excused herself,

"Go ahead and enjoy the cake with your mother."

Then she turned and left.

Catherine felt warmth in her heart. Although her life had lacked a father’s love, Renata had always filled her heart with warmth, which was why Catherine had remained kind and gentle over the years.

A heart full of love naturally gives love to others.

Renata was still weak, so Catherine helped her sit up on the bed and then opened the cake.

Renata told her to make a wish first. For Renata, no matter when, even in a hospital, one should not lose sight of pursuing the beautiful things in life.

Catherine followed Renata’s advice, closing her eyes and clasping her hands together in front of the small birthday cake to make a wish.

She didn’t have any other wish—her only hope was for Renata to recover quickly.

After making her wish, the two of them ate the cake, and Catherine took the rest to share with the nurses at the nurse station as thanks for their help during Renata’s hospital stay.

Since there was no one else to stay with Renata, and because Renata cared for Catherine, aside from the first few days when she was completely immobile and needed Catherine by her side day and night, once she could get out of bed, Renata had Catherine return home at night to rest. The evening care was entrusted to the night-shift nurses, who were asked to pay extra attention to Renata during rounds.

So at this moment, Catherine was happy to share her birthday cake with the nurses, expressing her gratitude for their support.

Around nine in the evening, after Renata had fallen asleep, Catherine finally left the hospital.

Back at her rented apartment complex, on a whim she entered the supermarket at the entrance and bought two bottles of beer.

It was her birthday, but the day had been so turbulent that her mood was unsettled.

For someone like Catherine, who normally didn’t drink at all, carrying these two bottles of beer suggested she wanted to drown her sorrows a little.

Logically, if she wanted to drink away her worries, she might have gone to a bar, but Riley wasn’t at Burg Eltz, and Catherine would never go alone to such a chaotic place. Her few experiences at bars had all been with Riley, and each time she found the noise overwhelming.

Because of work, Riley had come back to accompany her during Renata’s surgery, but left after a few days. Riley joked that she was busier than a prime minister. In the afternoon, Riley had already called to wish Catherine a happy birthday, and as for a gift, she left a check..

No pretenses, just straightforward and practical—Riley knew that for Catherine at this moment, money was more valuable than any gift.

Catherine accepted the check. A true friend doesn’t need to overthink how to please the other; sometimes, the most direct form of love is the most precious.

She brought the beer home, tidied up the apartment a little, took a shower, and changed into fresh loungewear. Since she wasn’t going out again that night, she didn’t wear a bra.

Then she settled onto the sofa to drink. She had already eaten dinner and didn’t feel like eating anything else, so she drank straight from the bottles without any snacks. Besides, snacks were for seasoned drinkers; for a novice like her, even a lavish spread wouldn’t make the alcohol taste any better.

Catherine drank quickly, almost pouring it down her throat. In no time, she finished the first bottle.

She threw the empty bottle aside and moved on to the second.

She found beer unbearably bitter, but wanting to numb herself with alcohol, she finished the second bottle too. The effect of the first bottle was already making her dizzy and light-headed.

After finishing both, she suddenly felt she had bought too little and wanted more.

At that moment, a knock came at the door. Catherine was on the sofa, burping drunkenly. The sudden sound made her slightly more alert, and she staggered to the door.

Seeing Bert standing outside, she opened the door in a daze.

Because she had drunk so much, Catherine had no sense of danger. Her brain was completely dulled by the alcohol; she didn’t consider safety at all. Instinctively, she assumed he wouldn’t harm her and opened the door.

She leaned on the doorframe, putting all her weight on it to avoid falling, and raised her pale face to him, trying to look sober, and smiled,

"Mr. Washington, is there something you need at this late hour?"

Bert had come straight here after working overtime at the company, never expecting to find a little drunkard when he opened the door.

For some reason, now that he was certain of his feelings for her, he wanted to see her every moment.

But the more he wanted to see her, the more work piled up—one task after another—keeping him at the office all day, even working overtime until now.

When he finally left the office, he glanced at the time. It was late. He had only planned to come by briefly, just to see her and check whether she had shaken off the shadow cast by Channing during the day.

Unexpectedly, she was like this—wearing a cream-colored knitted loungewear set, clean and fresh. Because she had been drinking, her cheeks were flushed, making her even more alluring, and she smiled at him with drunken, half-lidded eyes.

What was most dangerous was that she seemed to be wearing nothing underneath her loungewear. The beautiful shape of her chest was fully visible in his line of sight, teasing his senses.

Bert felt his blood rush, his temper flare. He stepped forward, lifted her up, and swiftly carried her inside, closing the door to block anyone outside from seeing her perfect figure.

He tossed the small woman onto the sofa. Bert frowned as he looked at the two empty beer bottles beside her.

Annoyed, he tugged at his tie. So she had been drinking alone at home to drown her sorrows.

Drunk like this, in disheveled clothes, and opening the door late at night for a man...

The more he thought about it, the angrier he got. If it had been any other man with ill intentions, she would have been in trouble!

Intending to scold her for acting without any awareness, he looked at her sprawled on the sofa again, only to feel his temper flare even more.

Catherine was lying there helplessly, completely unable to move, her body floating in the haze of drunkenness.

Her loungewear top had ridden up slightly, exposing a small section of her slender waist. The curve of her waist and hips, lying there like that, was perfect. Bert recalled that night when he had held her from behind and... the memory made his mouth dry.

He removed his suit jacket, loosened his tie, and unbuttoned a few buttons at his collar, feeling a bit more at ease in his breathing. Then he turned to her little kitchen to get some water and calm himself down.

He had cooked in her little kitchen the last time he was there, so he was familiar with it.

After finding a cup and pouring himself a glass of water, he drank it down. His body still felt heated, so he poured and drank another glass.

Finishing, he rinsed the cup and set it aside. Just as he was about to turn and leave, a soft body pressed against him from behind. Slender arms wrapped around his waist, accompanied by a sleepy, almost unconscious murmur:

"I... want water too..."

Because she couldn’t steady herself, her whole delicate body pressed against him, a feminine softness pressing tightly against his firm back.

Bert, who had just calmed himself with two glasses of water, was instantly inflamed again.