The Year I Was the Other Woman To Myself novel Chapter 3

A month. That was more than enough time to play some games with the Sullivans.

Penelope hung up and strode purposefully toward the front door.-

She rang the bell, and a moment later, the maid, Luna, answered. Her eyes widened in shock.

“Miss Penelope? I… I thought you were on a business trip! What are you doing back so soon?”

Ignoring her, Penelope brushed past and walked into the house.

“Mrs. Sullivan! Ma’am! Miss Penelope is back from her trip!” Luna called out, unable to stop her.

Just as Penelope reached the staircase, Mrs. Sullivan hurried out from the kitchen, holding a bowl of rich chicken broth, and blocked her path.

“You… what are you…”

“Is Zebulon upstairs?”

“No, he’s not home…”

“I’ll go look for him.”

Penelope paid no attention to Mrs. Sullivan’s stammering and started up the stairs.

“Penelope, wait! Don’t go up there!” Mrs. Sullivan cried, scrambling after her.

Penelope quickened her pace, making a beeline for their bedroom. She couldn’t wait to see the looks on their faces when she caught them together.

She threw the door open and saw Zebulon standing there, having just emerged from the walk-in closet. Panic flashed in his eyes, and he instinctively took a step back, as if trying to shield something from view.

“Penelope, you…”

“You were expecting me to still be on my trip, weren’t you?” Penelope closed the distance between them, an eyebrow arched. “Funny, that’s the first thing everyone says to me. Am I not welcome back in my own home?”

Zebulon’s jaw tightened. “You should have called first.”

Penelope smiled sweetly. “I wanted to surprise you.”

Right now, however, Zebulon was pure panic. His eyes were glued to her hand on the handle, his breathing grew shallow, and a thin sheen of sweat broke out on his forehead. He was terrified of her finding out. The whole family was.

Penelope deliberately tightened her grip, pretending she was about to yank the door open. As expected, Zebulon’s panic intensified.

So this is what it felt like to be on the other side of the deception. It was rather amusing.

She released the handle and feigned a pout. “That was supposed to be a secret! Why did she have to go and tell you?”

“It just slipped out. But, to be honest, I’m not a huge fan of The Gilded Fork.”

Of course he wasn't. Another visit there and she’d find out their marriage certificate was a fake.

“Fine, we’ll go somewhere else. But it’s still a surprise, so no more questions.”

“Okay,” Zebulon said, visibly relieved.

“By the way, have you seen my camel coat? I could have sworn I packed it for this trip, but it’s not in my suitcase. I wonder if I left it at home.”