The Year I Was the Other Woman To Myself novel Chapter 175

Her response showed a complete lack of remorse and implied he was overreacting. Theodore stood up, looming over her.

“Now that things are clear, let’s go to the courthouse.”

Seeing that he was serious, Penelope’s bravado vanished. She dropped to the floor and wrapped her arms around his leg.

“Hubby, I was wrong! I promise I will never, ever call anyone else husband again! You’re my only husband! Husband! Husband! Please forgive me!”

She channeled the same shameless energy she used to win over difficult clients, clinging to his leg for dear life and peppering her pleas with his title.

“Hubby, I know I messed up! I really do! Have pity on me, please don’t divorce me!” she wailed, even managing to squeeze out a few tears.

Theodore tried to free his leg, which only made her cry harder.

“I can’t lose you! If I lose you, I’ll… I’ll…”

I’ll what? She racked her brain. Losing Theodore would be a significant financial blow, but that wasn’t exactly a romantic sentiment.

He snorted. “If you lose me, you’ll lose a very profitable business deal, is that it?”

“Well, it’s not just that.”

“Then what is it?”

Seeing his serious expression, Penelope’s mind spun. She licked her lips and looked up at him with wide, sincere eyes. “Mainly, you’re the most handsome man in the entire universe. A perfect, once-in-a-lifetime specimen. And the thought of losing you before I’ve even had a proper taste is just… a terrible, terrible tragedy.”

Theodore was speechless. He leaned down and pinched her cheek. It was impressively thick. She was one of a kind.

He sat back down in his chair and regarded her for a moment.

“We are a married couple. No different from any other.”

“Huh?” Penelope blinked. No different?

“Until our partnership ends and we decide to divorce, I expect us both to take this marriage seriously.”

“How seriously?”

Theodore sighed. “At the very least, we should be physically faithful to one another.”

“Really.”

“Because I feel like you’re still a little mad.”

He looked up, exasperated. “What do I have to do to prove I’m not angry?”

She leaned over his desk. “You could kiss me.”

He curled his index finger and tapped her on the forehead. “No…”

Before he could finish, she planted a quick kiss on his lips.

“There, are you happy now? You—”

She kissed him again. As his brow started to furrow in protest, she climbed onto his lap, tilted his head back, and kissed him deeply, clinging to him so tightly he couldn’t push her away.

His resistance crumbled after a moment. His arms wrapped around her waist, and he took control, stealing her breath and claiming her body as his own. Their breaths tangled, weaving a tight, hot net around them.