They Both Wanted Me Every Day — Now They Both Want Sunday to Last Longer Without Me Chapter 09

They Both Wanted Me Every Day — Now They Both Want Sunday to Last Longer Without Me Chapter 09

Ethan’s hand was still gripping me. When the old man approached, he let go instinctively.

The director hovered behind the old man, speaking in a hushed tone.
“Mr. Whitman, sir—you came in person?”

Arthur Whitman ignored him. He only looked at me. “Your grandmother once said Lena hates needles. That if anyone touched her things, she’d raise hell. Looks like she was half-wrong.”

Nora’s tears stopped mid-fall. Chad’s wine glass hung in midair. Ethan stared at me.

“You know Mr. Whitman?”

I rubbed my wrist where he’d grabbed it. “He was a friend of my grandmother’s.”

Arthur walked to the navy gown and studied it for a long time. “This isn’t Ms. Hale’s work.”

Nora quickly said, “Mr. Whitman, this is my piece.”

He raised a hand. “No need to rush. I look at the stitches. Not the mouth.”

He had the director open the glass case. Nora tried to stop him. “This dress is still for display—you can’t just touch it.”

Arthur asked her, “Do you know why the finishing stitch is hidden in the third vein of the leaf?”

Nora opened her mouth. “For appearance.”

Arthur shook his head. “Wrong. It’s the old rule of Eleanor’s Atelier. Cover the old without hiding the damage. When you fix someone else’s mistake, you leave a trace—so it can still be undone later.”

Murmurs spread through the crowd.

Ethan frowned. “Mr. Whitman, even if Lena helped, that doesn’t prove the whole piece is hers.”

Arthur looked at him. “Young man, what’s the rush?”

Mia got up off the floor. “I can prove Miss Vance worked on it all night.”

Chad scoffed. “A fired assistant’s word? Yeah, that’s real credible.”

The side door opened again. Two more people entered—the client and her niece. The client handed her phone to the director.

“I can prove it too. My store’s security footage from that night shows Miss Vance sitting under the lamp. Ms. Hale stood outside the door.”

Nora’s face went ashen. She looked at Ethan.

Ethan jumped in immediately. “Even if that’s true, Nora didn’t have bad intentions.”

I asked him, “No bad intentions—and that makes it okay to take someone else’s name?”

He looked away.

Arthur pointed at the gown’s lining. “Flip the inner fabric.”

The director did.

In the corner of the lining was a tiny embroidered magnolia. A mark I always left.

Nora stared at that flower, like someone had pulled the spine out of her.

I said, “I gave you chances.”

She suddenly grabbed me, crying. “Lena, I’m sorry. I was just so scared. You have everything. I only have this atelier.”

I pulled my hand back. “You also have Ethan.”

Ethan’s face turned dark.

Voices in the crowd, “So she stole her friend’s work.”

“And I actually bought that whole sob story.”

Chad tried to slip out, but the client stepped in his way. “Mr. Harrington. You shoved Mia. You owe her an apology.”

Chad’s face went red. Mia stood behind me, voice shaking, “It’s okay.”

I said, “No.”

Chad glared at me.

Arthur Whitman tapped his cane on the floor. “Apologize.”

Chad lowered his head. “Sorry.”

Mia pursed her lips, tears spilling over.

I looked at Nora. “Your turn?”

Nora’s lips trembled. Ethan stepped in front of her. “Lena. Don’t push it.”

Arthur laughed. “So the one who stole the work didn’t cross a line—but the one asking for her own name back did? Sterling boy. How exactly did you turn out like this?”

Ethan’s face went rigid.

…

That day, the gown was pulled. Nora’s name was removed from the pre-exhibition list. Mine wasn’t added either.

I didn’t ask for it to be. I only took back the navy gown.

On the drive back to the Sycamore House, Mia asked, “Miss Vance, why not enter it yourself? Mr. Whitman was right there.”

I said, “Timing isn’t right.”

Mia didn’t understand. But Frank did.

He drove and said quietly, “Miss isn’t just making a move about one dress.”

I looked out the window.

Nora stealing my technique was just the start. Ethan holding back the sponsorship letter was what really woke me up.

If he could block me for her once, he’d do it twice. I wasn’t about to let anyone’s hands rest on what my grandmother left me again.