Marrying my secret admirer after my husband's fake death novel Chapter 202

A cocktail of grievance, helplessness, and a barely suppressed anger shimmered in

Lucille’s eyes.

The look on her face was the kind you’d give a lover after a bitter

argument–wounded, vulnerable, yet fiercely proud.

Pennie, never one to hide her feelings, shot Justin a glare through misty eyes. “Justin,

is this really about Lucille? Are you just bitter because you couldn’t marry her? Seriously, you’re a grown man–try to show a little class, would you?”

Edith’s heart lurched. Did Justin really marry her just because he couldn’t have Lucille? Was she just a stand–in?

A sharp pang of jealousy twisted in her chest, sour and biting as a lemon.

Lucille snuck a glance at Edith, half–expecting her to break down or lash out. Surprisingly, Edith’s face was unreadable–a perfect mask.

Instead, Edith reached for the serving fork and quietly placed a piece of fish on Justin’s plate. “Eat it while it’s hot,” she said softly, “otherwise, it’ll start to taste fishy.”

Justin’s anger, wound tight just moments before, seemed to loosen at her words. His brow unfurrowed, and the tension in the room faded, as if Edith’s voice had worked some quiet magic.

Sensing the shift, Oliver and Carola jumped in to smooth things over. “That’s right, let’s not dwell on all this. The food’s amazing tonight–fresh as can be. Come on, everyone, dig in!”

Justin glanced at Edith, surprise and admiration flickering in his eyes. She was even more poised than he’d expected.

Dinner wound down, the room buzzing with easy conversation.

Edith rose from her chair. “Excuse me, I’ll be right back.”

Justin looked up. “Want me to come with you?”

She smiled. “I’m not a child, Justin–I think I can find my way.”

He chuckled and let her hand slip from his.

To anyone watching, their rapport would have seemed effortless, enviable.

Pennie, however, scowled and squeezed Lucille’s hand, whispering fiercely, “Lucille, I’ll

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be honest–she may look a little like you, but she’s not as beautiful, and she’s nowhere near as interesting. Trust me, Justin still cares about you.”

Tears welled up in Lucille’s eyes. She bit her lip, voice trembling as she leaned closer. “Pennie, that’s not what matters. What hurts is tonight was supposed to be your night, and instead you got dragged into all this. I feel awful for you.”

Pennie’s anger at Edith only flared hotter. She shoved her chair back. “I need the ladies‘ room,” she muttered, storming off.

Lucille feigned ignorance, nodding innocently. “Okay. Later, when we go down to the beach, let me snap some pictures of you. We’ll send them to that vixen, just to show her-a lookalike will never replace the real thing.”

Pennie’s lips curled into a satisfied grin. Finally, someone understood.

In the restroom, the air was scented with soft perfume, clean and calming.

Edith hadn’t really needed a break–she’d just eaten too much fish and was starting to feel queasy. She turned on the faucet and leaned over the sink, gagging quietly, her composure slipping for the first time that evening.

Unexpectedly, a voice rang out behind her–cool, dismissive, edged with contempt.

“I’ve seen people with a soft spine, but you–this is something else. What’s the matter, scared you’d lose if you stood up for yourself? Easier just to play the victim, isn’t it?”

Edith grabbed a couple of paper towels, dabbed her lips, and turned to face the speaker.

It was Pennie.

Edith took a slow, steadying breath, fighting down the nausea. After a pause, her voice was calm and steady. “Pennie, if anyone’s playing the victim, it’s not me.”

Chapter 203