The Year I Was the Other Woman To Myself novel Chapter 329

Because Norton was a boy? What kind of reason was that?

Before Penelope could ask for clarification, the car turned onto a narrow road shaded by plane trees, which ended at a pair of black iron gates. As they approached, the gates scanned their license plate and swung open automatically.

A vast, sprawling lawn came into view. As they drove further in, she saw clusters of trees dotting the landscape. Closest to them was an apple orchard, the branches heavy with ripe, red fruit. In the distance, she could see groves of jujube, hawthorn, and pomegranate trees, all ablaze in fiery autumn colors. Workers moved among the trees, tending to the orchards, while others were on the lawn, maintaining the turf that was just beginning to turn golden-brown.

The road began to curve upward. As they rounded a small hill, a white, two-story villa nestled on the mountainside appeared. It was surrounded by a forest of gingko trees, their brilliant yellow leaves creating a scene so vivid it looked like they had driven straight into an oil painting.

A second gate stood before the villa, but Theodore didn’t drive through. Instead, he parked the car on the side of the road.

Penelope got out and followed him to the second gate, where she saw two words carved into a marble plaque: Stapleton Manor.

This was the Stapleton family’s home? She had heard it was massive, occupying an entire hill. She couldn’t have imagined what that meant until now. Just getting home was quite a journey.

Was Theodore taking her to see his mother or his grandfather?

The thought prompted her to quickly check her makeup. When she looked back at Theodore, she found him standing motionless before the gate, staring at the house as if he were afraid to go inside.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, taking his hand.

He shook his head slightly and squeezed her hand in return. “Come on. I’ll introduce you to her.”

The second gate opened with Theodore’s fingerprint. Inside was another small lawn, this one equipped with a swing set, a slide, and a large ball pit. It was clearly a children’s play area.

But were there children in the Stapleton family? Theodore had never mentioned any.

Theodore’s expression softened, but his eyes were filled with a profound sadness. “How could I ever not like you?”

At his words, the little girl’s face brightened. “I’m so bored, brother. Tell me a story.”

“Okay.”

Theodore selected a book from one of the stacks on the coffee table, sat down on the sofa, and began to read. His voice was low and husky, thick with a sorrow that seemed impossible to dissolve.

Penelope sat beside him, her mind swirling with questions as she watched the screen.

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