Because I Was an and He Threw Away 90

Chapter 90 Emily Goes to Cook 

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When Emma saw Emily and Ethan walk in together, she shot Emily a fierce, hateful glare, her eyes blazing with rage as if she wanted to devour her. 

But Emily didn’t even spare her a glance. She simply turned toward Matthew. 

She walked over slowly, giving Matthew a faint smile as she said, “Grandpa, happy birthday. I’m sorry I got back so late and made you wait for me.” 

Matthew looked at Emily with a broad, beaming smile full of warmth and kindness. “Emily, you’re back! Come on, come sit right next to me.” 

In the Wilson family, Matthew had never really liked Emma. When Emma had been badmouthing Emily earlier, he hadn’t bothered to respond to her at all. 

Now that Emily had returned, Matthew felt overjoyed and thrilled. But Emma rolled her eyes several times in obvious irritation and jealousy. 

At Matthew’s insistent urging, Emily sat down beside him. Matthew examined her closely, his voice filled with deep concern and heartache. “You’ve gotten thinner.” 

“No, I haven’t lost weight–I’ve been eating really well,” Emily 

replied. 

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Actually, Emily hadn’t gotten any thinner, but in the eyes of elders like Matthew, she always seemed too slim no matter what. 

Matthew didn’t argue with Emily’s words. Instead, he just said to her, “Make sure you eat a lot later. I had the servants prepare some of your favorite dishes.” 

Emily’s eyes welled up with tears from the emotion, and she nodded gratefully. “Okay, I will.” 

Right after she spoke, Matthew turned his head toward Emma, who was sitting nearby, looking clearly dissatisfied and resentful. He snapped at her sharply, “Where’s Tyrone? Why isn’t he back yet? What’s wrong with you? Why didn’t you call him?” 

Emma’s position in the household wasn’t as strong as she liked to pretend. Even Julian usually wouldn’t dare defy Matthew. 

So when Matthew barked at her, her pride took a blow. 

She lowered her head, muttering sulkily, “I’ll call him now.” 

Without waiting for a reply, she walked toward the hall exit. 

Matthew watched her leave, displeasure in his tone. “She can’t even manage herself properly, yet she’s quick to point fingers at others.” 

Emily stayed quiet, waiting until his agitation ebbed. Then she 

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stood up softly. “Grandpa, let me go make you a dish.” 

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Every year for Matthew’s birthday banquet, Emily would prepare an entire table full of dishes, but this year, she hadn’t done that. 

Every year, only Matthew would feel sorry for her and tell her not to cook, saying that young women shouldn’t inhale too much kitchen smoke because it would damage their skin. 

But she had ignored Matthew’s advice back then, all for Ethan’s sake. 

Now, seeing that she wanted to go into the kitchen again, Matthew naturally refused to allow it. 

“It’s just one dish–what does it matter if we eat it or not? You’re part of the Wilson family, not a servant. You just sit here and let people serve you.” 

Emily looked at Matthew with deep gratitude shining in her eyes. She smiled and said, “Grandpa, your birthday only comes once a year. I don’t have time to visit you often, so please let me make one dish for you today.” 

When Matthew saw how insistent she was, he had no choice but to give in. “Alright then, but you can only cook like this once a year.” 

Emily smiled warmly and agreed. “Understood.” 

As she started to head toward the kitchen, she remembered 3/6 

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something. She picked up the gift box she had brought and handed it to Matthew. “Grandpa, I bought you a pair of 

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soft–soled shoes. You can wear them when you go for walks or fishing. I hope you like them.” 

Matthew took the gift box, his eyes crinkling into happy 

crescents with pure delight. “Wonderful! You always know what to get. I love it—I really do.” 

Emily glanced subtly at the table, where it was piled high with expensive gifts. 

Those gifts included costly jewelry, antique vases, famous paintings… all of them were incredibly valuable treasures. 

Only the gift she had given was the cheapest and the least impressive among them. 

When Matthew said he liked it, Emily knew deep in her heart that he was just saying that because he felt sorry for her and wanted to make her feel better. 

Ever since they arrived at Wilson Manor, Ethan had been sitting quietly in a corner of the sofa, staring down at his phone. Emily had no idea if he was busy with work or texting Nancy. 

Emily noticed that he didn’t seem to care at all about what she had prepared for Matthew. 

As for Lydia, she didn’t hate Emily the way Emma did, but she didn’t particularly like her either. Still, Lydia maintained basic politeness. 

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After they entered, Lydia had greeted Emily, but then she hadn’t spoken to her again. 

Emma had given birth to three children in total–Ethan was the oldest, and Tyrone and Lydia were fraternal twins, with Lydia born first, making her Tyrone’s older sister. 

Lydia and Tyrone were both only twenty–two years old and still in college. Lydia was studying medicine, while Tyrone was studying finance. 

In terms of their studies, Lydia was very dedicated and 

hardworking, whereas Tyrone was just coasting through without much effort. 

Even though they were fraternal twins, their personalities were completely different. 

After Emily walked into the kitchen, the servants saw her and all greeted her respectfully in low voices. “Mrs. Wilson.” 

She acknowledged them with a nod and began cooking pasta for Matthew. 

When the pasta was halfway done, Tyrone arrived home. 

He had dyed his hair, and there were a few letters tattooed on his arm. It looked like they were probably the initials of someone’s name. 

Tyrone’s personality was nothing like Ethan’s. He acted like a 

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kid who hadn’t grown up yet, with a rebellious streak. 

As he entered the living room, he greeted everyone one by one. 

After greeting them, he looked around and didn’t see Emily, so he plopped down right next to Ethan. He propped his legs up on the coffee table and leaned his head back against the sofa. 

Tyrone seemed in a great mood. “Awesome–Emily’s making something delicious again. I’m in for a treat.” 

Lydia kicked Tyrone’s leg lightly. “Put your feet down. And stop acting like it’s guaranteed. Emily isn’t a servant.”