CHAPTER 28: CHAPTER 28- DESIGN RINGS FOR ME

Once the police arrived, the traffic jam cleared up quickly. Their car rejoined the flow, heading toward the hospital, and the rest of the ride passed in silence.

When the car finally stopped at the hospital entrance, Catherine turned slightly to glance at his deep, cold expression. Tentatively, she asked,

"Are... you really angry?"

Catherine had never interacted with a man of his age—or rather, a mature man who kept his emotions so tightly controlled. In contrast, when she’d been with Gerald, everything was always said openly. If Gerald was upset, he’d voice it, and she had never needed to guess his feelings. So Catherine had no experience reading the thoughts of a man like him.

Since their earlier conversation about whether he was "old," he hadn’t spoken to her. Catherine had no idea what his silence meant—was he angry, or not?

"If I were angry, what would you do?"

He rested one hand on the steering wheel and turned to look at her. The cufflinks on his wrist glinted faintly, cold and precise.

Outside, the rain mist blurred the car windows, making the interior feel hazy and dreamlike. His gaze was dark, deep, and unyielding; his features sharp and severe.

Catherine felt herself being drawn into that gaze. In all her life, she had never experienced this kind of unspoken, repeated intimacy with a man—this tightrope of unsaid emotions.

She thought of Gerald. Gerald had been her neighbor when she was a child, while Channing had come into her life when she was four, bringing her and Renata to a villa that symbolized wealth and status. Gerald, four years older, had always been a protector in her eyes.

When Gerald turned sixteen, his parents sent him abroad to study. That same year, Channing and Renata divorced, and Catherine moved out of that villa. She stayed in contact with Gerald, who often called to check in on her. It was Gerald who had accompanied her through the difficult period after her parents’ divorce.

Years later, Gerald returned to the country after finishing his studies. By then, he was twenty-four, Catherine twenty. Both had changed: he had become a polished, distinguished young man, dashing and confident; she had grown into a graceful, attractive young woman. Gerald was genuinely impressed when he saw her again.

They met a few times, and Gerald confessed, saying he liked her and hoped she would be his girlfriend. Catherine, having known Gerald since childhood and knowing him well, thought he was a good person. With Renata’s consent, she agreed.

But then...

When she had been with Gerald, she had loved him with her whole heart—and Gerald had liked her in return.

But it had never been as deep as she had imagined.

During the darkest, most despairing times when rumors and gossip swept over her, Catherine had wondered: if Gerald had done something shameful, how would she have reacted?

She told herself she would never abandon him. She would stand by his side no matter what, even if the entire world had turned against him. She, Catherine, would never give up on him.

But then, comparing that to Gerald’s own reaction, her heart had hurt beyond measure.

And yet, in that same instant, she felt a strange sense of release. Perhaps it had been because she didn’t love him enough—otherwise, he wouldn’t have been able to give up on her so easily.

So her relationship with Gerald had been simple at the start—there had been no suffocating, ambiguous tension like this.

Now, beneath the depth of his gaze, Catherine felt as if her very breath had stopped.

She was so caught up in her own nerves that she hadn’t even noticed his eyes lingering on her soft, rosy lips.

For a moment, Bert’s impulse almost took over—he almost blurted it out: Why not make up for it with a kiss?

But reason quickly suppressed the thought. He was, after all, a mature man, fully aware of the consequences of saying such a thing. He knew very well that if it had been any other woman teasing him like this, it would have been harmless. But because it was her, someone so earnest and proper, he knew she couldn’t play along with that kind of flirtation.

He wasn’t truly angry—just inexplicably annoyed that she had called him "old," so he had deliberately been cold.

When Catherine finally averted her eyes under his insistent gaze, she caught sight of the ring on his right index finger.

Working in jewelry design, she was naturally observant of such details, and if she remembered correctly, the rings he had worn in the past few meetings had all been different.

After a moment’s thought, she said,

"You seem to really like wearing rings. I design jewelry... and to show my thanks for all the help you’ve given me, I—I’d like to design a few rings for you."

It was the most straightforward and meaningful way she could think of to express her gratitude. After all, she was a jewelry designer, and he liked wearing rings.

He raised one brow slightly.

"Design rings for me?"

He emphasized the words "for me" with deliberate weight. Catherine’s cheeks flamed inexplicably. Somehow... it sounded suggestive, as if she were designing the rings for him because of some romantic reason.

She had clearly said it was just to thank him...

Quietly, she tried to explain again,

"It’s just... you’ve helped me so many times, so I thought this would be a way to show my gratitude..."

He nodded approvingly at her suggestion.

"That’s a pretty good idea."

The corners of his expression softened slightly as he spoke—no longer as stern or cold as before.

Catherine let out a small, relieved breath.

"Then it’s settled."

She added politely,

"I’ll head in first. Thanks for driving me back."

She turned to get out of the car, only to be called back.

"Wait."

Catherine turned, puzzled. He spoke in that low, commanding voice:

"Give me your phone."

Still confused, she held it out. He reached over and took it from her hand, fingers long and precise, typing swiftly across the screen.

When he handed it back, he explained calmly,

"You’re designing the rings for me, right? Once they’re ready, aren’t you going to contact me?"

Catherine finally understood, taking back her phone with a smile.

"Right, I’ll contact you when they’re ready. I’ll head in first."

With that, her slender figure hopped down from the car and jogged into the hospital.

Bert restarted the engine, a faint sense of disbelief washing over him. He had actually just given a woman his phone number.

Well... he thought, she really seemed too naïve. Offering to design him rings but not even thinking to get his number? Did she plan to track him down after the rings were finished?

They hadn’t driven far when his phone buzzed. Seeing the name Daniel, his brow furrowed slightly.

No need to guess—the purpose of this call was obvious. Daniel was calling about this afternoon’s blind date, undoubtedly ready to grill him about it.

Annoyed as he was, he still picked up. With a calm, almost indifferent tone, he said,

"Hello."

On the other end came Daniel’s restrained, irritated voice:

"I heard you have a girlfriend now? And yet this afternoon, you still paraded around in front of your blind date?"