The Year I Was the Other Woman To Myself novel Chapter 116

“Are you saying I’m inconsiderate?”

“I said some people!”

“Ah. Well, shall we go in?” Penelope said, moving to open the door.

“Penelope, she has a point. There’s no need to be so extravagant,” Rebecca chimed in, playing the peacemaker.

“So, when you get married, you’ll just buy a dress online? For a few dozen dollars?”

“I…”

“See? Rebecca is so sensible,” Penelope said, turning to Mrs. Sullivan. “Maybe you should have Zebulon marry her instead.”

A flicker of panic crossed Mrs. Sullivan’s face. “I never said that!”

Just then, Zebulon walked up from parking the car. “What’s going on? Why haven’t you gone in yet?”

“Your mother wants you to marry a sensible girl, like Rebecca,” Penelope said, feigning hurt.

“Mom!” Zebulon snapped at his mother.

Mrs. Sullivan’s face darkened. “She’s twisting my words.”

“Alright, let’s just go inside,” Zebulon said, holding the door open for Penelope.

Mrs. Sullivan and Rebecca followed behind. Once inside, she shot her son a glare.

“Zebulon, that’s not what I meant. Penelope misunderstood.”

Zebulon’s eyes landed on Rebecca, and the memory of their entanglement made him irritable. “What are you even doing here? This has nothing to do with you.”

Rebecca’s composure finally broke. “How does it have nothing to do with me? I’m the wife on your marriage certificate! I’m carrying your child! And I have to watch you marry another woman! I…”

“Shut up!” Zebulon looked nervously toward Penelope, who had already walked further into the showroom. He relaxed slightly, then pointed a finger in Rebecca’s face. “I’m warning you, if you dare let Penelope find out about us, you’ll regret it!”

“Are you crazy?” Mrs. Sullivan slapped his hand down. “If you refuse to acknowledge Rebecca as your wife, then we’ll refuse to acknowledge you as our son!”

“Then of course you can try it on! This gown, and all the others on display in this hall, were specially shipped from Europe for you. They are all the latest designs from master couturiers.”

Penelope glanced at the other dresses but found her gaze returning to the one in front of her. The consultant carefully took it down and led her to a fitting room.

When she emerged wearing the gown, Zebulon and the others, who had been looking around, all turned. Their expressions were a mixture of awe and shock.

“Penelope, you’re beautiful,” Zebulon said, his voice full of genuine admiration.

Even Rebecca couldn’t help but whisper, “You look like a princess from a fairy tale.” But the admiration was quickly replaced by a sharp pang of jealousy.

She was Zebulon’s real wife, yet she wasn’t even entitled to a wedding. And even if they gave her one, she would have no say in the dress or the venue. But Penelope could have it all. Why?

Mrs. Sullivan’s brow was deeply furrowed. She pulled the consultant aside and asked for the price. When she heard the number, she practically shrieked.

“Absolutely not! Take it off! Take it off right now!”

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