The Year I Was the Other Woman To Myself novel Chapter 286

Just then, someone shouted, “Mr. Anderson is back!”

Hearing this, Penelope rushed to the doorway, only to be stunned by the sight before her. Mr. David Anderson was wearing the brand-new suit she had bought for him, but he was limping badly. And the person helping him was Donald!

Donald!

Penelope’s thoughts descended into turmoil. Why were they together? Had Mr. Anderson told him everything?

“Penelope, my old arthritis is acting up,” Mr. Anderson said, his voice laced with guilt. “I’m afraid I can’t walk you down the aisle. But you should have a family member by your side, so I found Mr. Bishop. He’s kindly offered to take my place and give you away to Theodore.” As he spoke, he avoided her gaze, lowering his head in shame.

Donald smiled graciously. “Although I’m not sure why Mr. Anderson sought me out, I would be honored.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Penelope said, her voice like ice.

Donald’s smile faded slightly. “I believe Mr. Anderson simply doesn’t want you to be embarrassed.”

“My father is the best father in the world. He has never embarrassed me!” Penelope’s tone was sharp. She pushed past Donald and took Mr. Anderson’s arm herself.

“Penelope, don’t be like this. He is, after all…”

“You are my only father!”

“Penelope…”

“Unless you don’t want me anymore.”

Mr. Anderson sighed, a world of unspoken troubles in his eyes. But given the setting, he didn’t press the issue. He could only turn to Donald with an apologetic look before taking his daughter’s hand and heading toward the ceremony hall. His arthritis was severe, and his legs trembled with every step. Penelope released his hand and instead supported him by his arm, walking step-by-step into the spotlight under the gaze of all the guests.

Penelope turned and smiled at her younger brother. From now on, her life would be filled with her dad, her brother, and Theodore. She looked toward the man waiting at the end of the aisle. She was going to take his hand and never let go.

Seated among the guests, the four Sullivans were completely and utterly dumbfounded.

“Are… are my eyes playing tricks on me? Why does the bride look so much like Penelope?” Mrs. Sullivan whispered, still refusing to believe it. She leaned forward, squinting for a better look.

“Is it her?” Mr. Sullivan was equally incredulous. “But she’s supposed to be in jail.”

Zebulon was in even deeper denial. “It’s not her. It can’t be her!”

Rebecca, however, was simply terrified. “I think… I think it is her…”