The Year I Was the Other Woman To Myself novel Chapter 174

Linda and another female assistant came in and managed to drag the weeping woman out of the office.

The door clicked shut, and silence returned.

Theodore looked down, his voice cold. “Are you going to stay under there all day?”

Penelope had been enjoying the drama, but the woman’s heartbroken sobs had soured the experience, even making her a little angry at him.

“You had dinner with her, drinks with her, you walked on the beach and saw a movie, and after all that, you claim you don’t even know her name?” she accused from her hiding spot.

Theodore rubbed his temples. “We were in a group! It wasn’t just me and her!”

“You must have done something to make her feel special.”

“I didn’t.”

“You must have!”

“Penelope, when I say I didn’t, I mean it. I wouldn’t lie to you about this.”

She huffed, but then paused, realizing her tone was that of an accuser, and his was that of a man defending himself.

Theodore sensed it too. “Get out from under there,” he said, his voice laced with annoyance.

“Why are you yelling?”

“Do you think it’s appropriate for you to be under my desk?”

“What’s inappropriate about—” Penelope’s mind suddenly conjured up a very different scenario, and her face flushed. “You… you’re not thinking about something from an adult film, are you?”

Theodore gritted his teeth. He bent down, grabbed her arm, and tried to pull her out. Worried about hitting her head, she lunged forward, tumbling right into his lap.

He tried to push her off, but she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, clinging to him.

“You said you don’t sleep with just anyone, only people you don’t dislike. That means you don’t dislike me, right?”

She stood with her hands on her hips, the very picture of wronged reason.

Theodore sneered. “So you have no idea what you did wrong?”

“What did I do wrong?”

“How many husbands do you have?”

Penelope pursed her lips. “Just you.”

“Last night, you called me husband. But you also called someone else husband.”

Had she? She replayed the moment in her mind. When she pushed Theodore behind the curtain, she had blurted out, “My husband’s here.”

It had been a slip of the tongue, a force of habit after three years of thinking of Zebulon that way.

“So you want to divorce me just because I accidentally called someone else ‘husband’ one time?”