The Year I Was the Other Woman To Myself novel Chapter 182

“I’m swamped, and you have time to go for a run?”

Penelope noticed the stack of invitations in Mrs. Sullivan’s hand and frowned.

“The wedding is just a few days away. We’ve already sent out the invitations to our side of the family and friends. These are for your guests. You can fill them out and send them off yourself.”

Mrs. Sullivan shoved the invitations into Penelope’s hands and muttered something about having other things to attend to before hurrying away.

Penelope let out a dry laugh. So, they were just going to pretend nothing was wrong? They were going to keep up the charade, using a sham wedding to maintain her fake marriage to Zebulon, all in the hopes of landing that project. They probably even expected her to go back to Stone Group and slave away for them, supporting their entire family.

Looking at the invitations, she was certain the Sullivans hadn’t sent a single one to their own relatives. It was a fake wedding, after all; they wouldn’t want to be humiliated. But they wanted her to invite all of her family and friends, so when the truth finally came out, she would be the only one left looking like a fool.

A clever plan, but did they really take her for an idiot?

When Penelope got home, Mrs. Winters rushed over just as she was about to close the door.

“Penelope, the police suggested we try to reconcile. I was thinking, since you weren’t seriously hurt, and my son was beaten so badly… if we agree to drop it, you’ll agree to a settlement, right?” Mrs. Winters asked with a forced smile.

Penelope just snorted and walked into her living room without answering. She tossed the invitations onto the coffee table and picked one up to examine it.

“Oh, are those your wedding invitations with Zebulon?” Mrs. Winters asked, her voice dripping with envy.

“They are. They want me to fill them out and send them, but I just don’t have the time.”

A glint appeared in Mrs. Winters’s eyes. “Why don’t I help you write them?”

“You?”

“Just give me a list of your relatives’ names and addresses. I’ll fill them out and mail them for you.”

“I suppose that would work.”

Penelope paused, as if remembering something.

Mrs. Winters gritted her teeth in fury. My daughter is not the other woman, she fumed silently. She’s Zebulon’s legal wife. You’re the one with no official status.

Her anger boiled over as she stared at the invitations on the table. The Sullivans never gave her daughter a wedding, but they were throwing one for Penelope? How dare they!

Right then, she grabbed the invitations, a grim determination setting in.

This wedding would be her daughter’s, and no one else’s.

Later, Penelope sent a list of names and addresses to Mrs. Sullivan. They weren’t her relatives, however. They were the Sullivans’.

The wedding was destined to be a joke: a shabby venue, a cheap dress, a cheater, and a mistress, surrounded by a crowd of gossiping relatives. But what did it matter? She wasn’t the star of this show.

And when the time came, she had a very special gift waiting for them.

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