My Cousin Faked Illness to Steal My Boyfriend, He Turned the Tables Chapter 13

My Cousin Faked Illness to Steal My Boyfriend, He Turned the Tables Chapter 13

Business at Greyson’s diner kept getting better.

He remained as sharp as ever at spotting manipulation.

When a female customer playfully flirted with him, calling him hot and asking if he had a girlfriend, he simply handed over the menu and pointed to the embroidered dogwood blossom hanging on the wall.

“Yep. See that blossom? Belongs to my girl.”

The customer teased him about being whipped.

He just kept clearing tables, completely unbothered. “It’s not about being whipped. I’m just lucky enough to know what’s worth holding onto.”

I stood behind the register, looking down as I balanced the books.

A clean, light scent drifted in through the window.

I was no longer afraid of anyone slipping into my jacket to steal my life away.

Because I’d finally learned-my people, my needle, my path-I claim them all myself.

Right before winter arrived, Iris showed up one last time.

The diner had just introduced its new seasonal menu that day. Greyson was back in the kitchen simmering broth, while I sat by the window restoring the pattern on a vintage coat.

The door chime rang, and Iris stood in the cold wind, clutching a bag to her chest.

She wore no makeup, her hair was tied back loosely, and her sleeves were visibly worn from washing.

We looked at each other.

Greyson poked his head out from the kitchen, soup ladle still in hand. “If you’re here to eat, grab a table. If

you’re here to cause trouble, the cameras at the door are recording.”

Iris’s face tightened with embarrassment. She set the bag down in front of me. “I’m not here to cause trouble. I came to return your things.”

She opened the bag, revealing the ruby pendant from my childhood, Savannah’s old hairpin, and a few wrinkled, folded fashion sketches.

I thought these things were lost forever.

I didn’t reach out to touch them immediately.

“What made you decide to return them now?”

Iris kept her head low. “My mother said there’s no point in keeping them anymore.”

Greyson let out a faint scoff from the kitchen doorway.

Iris quickly corrected herself. “No. I mean… I realized I was immature back then.”

I smoothed out the sketches one by one.

One of them was stained with coffee, its corners completely yellowed.

It was the wedding dress design Savannah had drawn when she was seventeen.

She had searched for it frantically all night back then.

Seeing my hand pause on that specific piece of paper, Iris’s voice dropped even lower. “I wasn’t the one who ruined that. Grandma spilled coffee over it when she hid it away.”

“Why did she hide it?” I asked.

Iris didn’t answer.

So I answered for her. “Because Savannah had just won a design competition that day, and Grandma said seeing it would make you feel bad.”

Iris’s lips twitched. “Hadley, I’ve already been kicked out of the house. What more do you want from me?”

I placed the pendant into its box. “I want you to return the rest of what you took.”

She snapped her head up. “There’s nothing else!”

I said, “You know I’m not talking about things.”

There weren’t many customers in the diner, but two young girls sitting near the door noticeably slowed

down their eating.

Iris’s face turned bright red. “You want me to apologize in public?”

I said, “Not want. Owe.”

Standing by the table, Iris’s eyes began to well with tears again.

I knew this exact routine inside out.

In the past, the moment she started crying, I would instantly panic.

Now, I simply pushed my glass of water out of the way, making sure she wouldn’t knock it over and claim I

had scalded her.

Greyson placed a steaming bowl of soup right next to my hand. “Drink it while it’s hot.”

Seemingly pierced by this normal, domestic moment, Iris’s voice turned shrill. “You both have a great life wow! Why are you still holding onto the past?”

I looked her in the eye. “Because the things we went through were real.”

She gritted her teeth. “If apologize, will you actually forgive me?”

“No,” Savannah’s voice cut in from the doorway.

I turned around to see Savannah walking in, her umbrella dripping with rain.

She walked over to the table, her expression perfectly flat as her gaze swept over the old items.

Iris caught sight of her and immediately tried to seize the opportunity. “Savannah, I truly know I was

wrong.”

Savannah picked up the ruined wedding dress design. “Wrong about what?”

Iris choked on her words.

“Are you sorry for stealing?” Savannah pressed. “For lying? For using other people’s lives as your stepping stool? Or are you just sorry that you lost?”

Each question hit heavier than the last.

Iris’s tears finally spilled over. “Fine! I’m sorry that I lost! Are you happy now?”

The diner fell completely silent.

Greyson put the ladle down and didn’t bother saving/her face anymore. “Now that’s the truth.”

Iris realized she’d slipped and went pale.

Savannah placed the sketch back on the table. “We’ll keep the items. But don’t bother with the apology-you didn’t really mean it anyway.”

Iris panicked. “Then what am I supposed to do? My mother lost her job, Grandma refuses to see us, and all our relatives are avoiding me. I just don’t want to spend the rest of my life like this!”

I said, “Then change for real. Don’t come trying to make us admit you already have.”

She looked at me like she was hearing me for the first time.

I pushed the untouched bowl of hot soup toward her. “Eat this and leave. It’s on the house. Consider it a period at the end of this chapter.”

She stood frozen for a long moment before finally sitting down, finishing every single drop of the soup.

Before walking out, she didn’t cry.

She just looked at me and said, “Hadley, I really used to think that as long as I cried, everything would eventually belong to me.”

“Then you need to learn how to survive without crying,” I replied.

She pushed open the door and stepped out, her figure quickly swallowed by the rain.

Clutching the hairpin in her hand, Savannah murmured, “Hadley, let’s fix these up properly.”

I nodded.

Greyson carried out two dishes from the kitchen. “Before you fix anything, eat first. I can’t have both artists

starving on me.”

Savannah looked at him. “That sharp tongue of yours-no surprise you drove Iris away.”

Greyson set the silverware down neatly. “I only go after the ones who have it coming.”

Rain streaked against the glass windows, and the streetlights outside shattered into a warm amber glow.

I looked down at the old design sketch.

The coffee stains couldn’t be washed away, and the tears in the paper were still visible.

But new lines could always be drawn.

Even damaged paper could support a brand new blossom.

By the end of the year, the family sign at the Matthews Estate was due to be replaced.

The old decorative sign had hung on the living room wall for decades, bearing the phrase Harmony Above

All.

When I was a child, I always thought those words were our family motto.

It wasn’t until I grew up that I realized it was often just a tool used to suppress the people taking all the

blame.

Dad called me, asking if Savannah and I would be willing to come over for a family dinner.

He promised no big gathering, no extended relatives-just the immediate family.

Savannah fell silent for a long time.

I kept the phone on speaker.

Greyson was kneading dough nearby, his movements slowing down as he listened.

“Fine,” Savannah finally said. “But that sign has to go.”

Dad didn’t ask why.

He simply replied, “You two decide what replaces it.”

On the day we went back to the estate, the garden looked barren in the winter cold.

Mom was waiting for us at the front door, her hands twisting her apron tightly.

Seeing Savannah, she wanted to step forward but hesitated.

Savannah spoke first. “Mom.”

Tears immediately rushed down Mom’s face.

This time, she didn’t lunge forward to throw her arms around us, nor did she beg for forgiveness.

She just whispered, “Dinner’s almost ready.”