All Chapters of He Chose my Cousin, so I Chose Revenge: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

It was time for the trial, and I could feel it in my body before I could name the feeling. It wasn’t panic. It wasn’t exactly fear. It was something heavier than nerves but quieter than dread. I moved through the apartment in slow motions, like my limbs were made of something slightly too dense to lift easily. The air felt heavier than it should have been. Even the steam from the kettle rose slower than usual, curling once at the rim and vanishing before I could reach for the mug.I didn’t touch my tea. I stood by the window with both hands wrapped around it, watching nothing in particular. The street below was already alive. People moved to work. Horns sounded. A delivery van double parked and honked like it had more right to be frustrated than anyone else. The sky was pale with early sun, but it felt like the city was waking up without me.Julian arrived just after eight. He didn’t knock. He stepped inside quietly like he had done every day this week, carrying two coffees and a fold

The rain had started sometime after sundown. At first it was a low tapping against the windows, then a sudden sweep of wind that rattled the glass. By the time Claudia arrived, soaked from the knees down and wrapped in an oversized coat, it had turned into a full downpour. The kind of rain that came without pause. No breaks between drops. Just constant, urgent sound.We were back at the boutique. The lights overhead were dimmed to a softer yellow. The main floor was quiet, cleared of customers and distractions. It was the only place that still felt mine. Even now, after everything, it felt like stepping into a version of myself I could still recognize.Claudia shook off her coat, hung it near the door, and slipped into the back room where I had already spread out the files. Her hair clung to the side of her face, and her boots squished when she walked. But she didn’t complain. She just gave me a look that said, Let’s get through this.We didn’t bother speaking for the first few minute

I was not expecting her. Not that day. Not ever again, if I was honest with myself.The knock came early, before the office lights had fully warmed, before the staff arrived, before Claudia had even opened her laptop. The boutique floor was still dim, shadows stretching long across the sewing tables, and the windows wore a sheen of condensation from the storm the night before.I was holding a cup of tea, still too hot to drink. I had not yet sat down. I had only just placed my bag by the desk when the sound came. It was a gentle but firm knock on the back door, the one only people who knew the building ever used. I froze for a second, not out of fear, but something closer to recognition. There was a rhythm to it, one I had not heard in years but that lived somewhere deep in my memory.I set the cup down and crossed the floor slowly. The hallway was quiet, and my footsteps echoed more than they should have. I opened the door without speaking.She s

The morning after the showcase, the silence in the boutique felt heavier than it had the night before. Not haunting. Not painful. Just full. Like the air itself had taken on weight from everything that had been said and everything that had finally been seen. I arrived early, long before the others, and walked the same floor that had held those quiet revelations only hours ago. The mannequins were bare again, their frames waiting to be redressed or packed away. The soft bulbs had been turned off. Only the gray of morning light filled the space, softening the edges of everything it touched. I stood there for a long time. I did not reach for my phone. I did not sit. I just let the stillness stretch, breathing in the aftertaste of truth. When Julian arrived, I was still in the same spot. He did not ask if I had gone home. He did not mention the showcase or the blouse or the weight of our final glance. He just walked in, quiet as ever, and placed two cups of coffee on the desk. Then he

We returned to the city before noon. The mist from the coast still clung faintly to the sleeves of my jacket, and my shoes carried traces of sand I had not wanted to shake off. I felt different stepping into the boutique again, like my body remembered something the air could not. My fingers were steadier. My thoughts quieter. For the first time in a long while, I was not carrying all of it alone. Julian unlocked the front door while I held a paper bag from the bakery near the inn, the scent of fresh bread still warm between my palms. I had imagined we would come in and ease into the day slowly, check in with Claudia, review the usual legal updates, maybe even hang a few new sketches near the design wall. But something felt off the moment we stepped inside. The lights were on. Too many of them. Claudia had a habit of using only the ones above her desk. But the whole space was lit now, as though someone had needed to see everything all at once. The air felt tight, pulled too thin. Cl