The Year I Was the Other Woman To Myself novel Chapter 187

Penelope’s expression hardened. He had finally said it.

But how dare he say it with such righteous indignation? How dare he say she wasn’t worthy?

Seeing her silence, Zebulon assumed he had stunned her. But it wasn’t enough. He still had a storm of rage to unleash. He ran back to his house and returned moments later with two marriage certificates, flinging them open.

“This is ours,” he said, pointing to one. “Look how sweetly you were smiling. You were so happy then, weren’t you? You’d finally married me.”

With a vicious tear, he ripped the certificate in half and threw the pieces at her.

“But it was a fake! While you were on the phone, I stopped the registration process. When you came back, I handed you the fake certificate. I thought you’d see through it—you’re so clever, after all. But you didn’t suspect a thing. Ha! Did you trust me that much? Or were you just so deliriously happy to marry me that you lost your mind?”

It still wasn’t enough. Seeing Penelope’s face grow darker brought him a sick sense of satisfaction.

He held up the other certificate, the one with Rebecca. “This one is real. You’ve probably never even seen a real marriage certificate, have you? Well, here’s your chance.”

He shoved it in her face, his expression a mixture of triumph and malice. “See? This is what a real one looks like. Rebecca is my true wife. And you… you were just the woman I slept with for six years, with no name and no status!”

“That’s enough!” Mr. Sullivan stepped in, cutting off Zebulon’s tirade. He turned to Penelope, his brow deeply furrowed. “I still have a high regard for you, and I would like for you to be my daughter-in-law. Let’s be clear. If you give the KINY Group project to us, I will make Zebulon divorce Rebecca and marry you. The wedding will proceed as planned.”

Penelope laughed. “So you all think I have no other options but him?”

“Of course you can marry someone else, but you’ll never find a better husband than Zebulon or a better family than ours,” Mrs. Sullivan sneered, stepping closer. “Let me be honest with you. I never notified our relatives about the wedding. I only had you invite yours. I even brought your father here. So, if the wedding doesn’t happen, you’re the one who will be humiliated, not us.”

“Wow,” Penelope said, clapping slowly. “You really thought of everything.”

“Stop playing dumb!”

“No, I think I’m genuinely confused,” Penelope said, shaking his hand off. “Let me see if I have this right. You cheated on me, secretly married my supposed ‘best friend,’ and had a child with her. All of you knew about it and lied to me for years. The right and wrong of the situation seems pretty clear, doesn’t it? So why are you all acting so self-righteous? You don’t feel an ounce of guilt. In fact, you act as if you’re doing me a favor, that if you just divorce Rebecca, I’ll come running back to you, thrilled.”

She paused, her eyes locking onto his. “Do I really seem that pathetic to you?”

“You love me!” Zebulon shouted.

Penelope shook her head, her voice calm but firm. “Not anymore.”

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