The Year I Was the Other Woman To Myself novel Chapter 1

“Ms. Laurier, this marriage certificate is a fake.”

Penelope Laurier watched as the receptionist slid the document back across the counter. The woman’s tone remained polite, but her expression was unmistakably mocking.

Penelope took it, a humorless smile touching her lips. “Why on earth would I forge a marriage certificate to fool you?”

“Perhaps for our wedding anniversary promotion,” the receptionist said with a slight sneer.

Penelope was speechless. She knew nothing about any promotion; she had chosen this restaurant to celebrate her third anniversary with Zebulon Sullivan simply because she loved their garden terrace.

“You can’t just accuse me of fraud. I could file a complaint,” Penelope said, her voice hardening.

The receptionist just shook her head as if she’d heard the funniest joke in the world.

Her dismissive attitude made Penelope frown. “What makes you so certain?”

The receptionist tapped a few keys on her keyboard and swiveled the monitor toward Penelope. “When I entered your husband’s ID number, his information was already in our system.”

“And?”

“He also booked our anniversary package.”

A flicker of surprised joy lit up Penelope’s face. “He booked it, too?”

The receptionist looked at her like she was an idiot. “Mr. Sullivan did make a reservation, yes. But it has nothing to do with you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that Mr. Sullivan’s wife is someone else. Not you.”

Penelope felt a mix of bewilderment and amusement. She leaned over to check the screen, but then her eyes froze on the name listed under ‘Mrs. Sullivan’: Rebecca Winters.

Her best friend, Rebecca.

How could this be?

“In fact,” the receptionist continued, “Mr. Sullivan and his wife are on the rooftop terrace right now, celebrating their third anniversary…”

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