He Left Me For My Sister Now He Begs For Me Back Chapter 12
That night, for the first time, my mother confronted me over my sister claiming credit that wasn’t hers.
“Why didn’t you tell Gavin that Victoria helped with the data, too?” she demanded.
I was reviewing my premarital asset list and glanced up from my tablet.
“Did she?”
My mother faltered.
“She may not have processed the files herself, but she kept your father company and talked with him during that time. If Gavin thinks highly of you because of that work, what’s wrong with sharing a little credit with your sister?”
For a moment, I was speechless.
After a long pause, I finally asked, “Mother, can credit be divided up like property?”
She frowned.
“You’re about to marry into the Westmoor Pack and have such a bright future. Why are you still fighting with Victoria over something so small?”
There it was again.
Fighting.
I set down my tablet.
“I was the one who checked those accounts, day and night, for seven days straight. Now my sister says one sentence about helping, and you call it me fighting with her?”
My mother said impatiently, “It was just one sentence. It’s not as if she can actually take the credit from you.”
I was suddenly reminded of my childhood.
When my mother moved my piano to my sister’s room, she’d said, *It’s just a piano.*
When she gave my horse to my sister, she’d said, *It’s just a horse.*
When she swapped my room for my sister’s, she’d said, *It’s just a room.*
And now, she was saying, *It’s just one sentence.*
A person’s life really could be dismantled, piece by piece, with countless little “justs.”
And by the time it was all broken down, anything could be taken away.
Calmly, I said, “Then I won’t share it.”
My mother stared at me as if seeing me for the first time.
“Adeline, what’s happened to you?”
I smiled.
“Maybe the person I used to be was just too tired. I don’t want to be her anymore.”
The next day, my sister asked to meet me in the glass pavilion in the garden.
She wore a white cashmere coat and, from a distance, looked like a delicate flower blooming in the snow.
By the time I arrived, she had already been crying.
“Adeline, did Mother come to see you last night?”
I didn’t answer.
Her eyes red, she said, “It’s my fault. I just heard that Gavin noticed you because of that accounting work, and I got jealous for a moment. I said too much. I wasn’t trying to take anything from you.”
I’d noticed my sister was fond of that line.
*I wasn’t trying to take anything.*
And yet, my whole life, if something belonged to me, it always seemed to find its way into her hands.
She added, “You know how poor my health is. All these years, I’ve been trapped at home. You got to ride horses, go out, work with Father, even shift freely. I had nothing.”
I looked at her.
“You had nothing?”
She froze.
I asked, “What about my Chestnut Snow? Mother’s grand piano? Grandmother’s ruby necklace? The lake-view room I gave you when I was twelve? Sebastian?”
With every question, her face grew a shade whiter.
Finally, I smiled.
“So, Victoria, none of those things count as anything to you.”
Her tears spilled over.
“So you really do blame me. Adeline, if I hadn’t saved you back then—”
I laughed out loud.
She stared, taken aback.
I stared back.
Because for the first time in all these years, hearing that sentence didn’t fill me with guilt.
It just made me feel tired.
“Victoria, are you planning to make me repay you for that one life for the rest of mine?”