For the first few nights, when Catherine locked herself away in the study, Bert was able to understand. But after several days passed and she still hadn't finished the design, he began to sense that something wasn't right.
So that evening, using a cup of warmed milk as an excuse, he entered the study. He stood beside her for quite a while, watching her work in silence. Then his gaze shifted to the scattered sketches covering the floor.
"All of these… rejected?" he asked.
"Yes," she said with a sigh. "I'm never satisfied with any of them. What should I do? I think I might not be able to design it at all."
Frustrated, Catherine lifted a hand and raked it through her hair. Bert noticed the faint tension between her brows. Without saying anything, he bent down and picked up the drafts she had tossed onto the floor one by one, then sat down on the sofa and examined them carefully.
