The Year I Was the Other Woman To Myself novel Chapter 37

Penelope sat on the couch, munching on an apple and watching TV, while Rebecca bustled around, preparing the guest room for her. When she was done, she came and sat next to Penelope, her face a mask of gentle concern.

“All couples have disagreements,” she said, her voice soft and consoling. “You two should sit down and talk things through. Running away from home will only make things worse.”

Penelope shot her a sideways glance. Rebecca’s words were supportive, but her eyes were alight with unconcealed glee.

“They kicked me out! I didn’t run away!”

“She was just angry. And you have to admit, what you did last night was a little…”

“You’re my best friend. Are you telling me you’re not on my side?”

“Of course I’m on your side.”

“Hmph,” Penelope grumbled. “If Zebulon can’t give me a good explanation for that thong, I will never forgive him.”

“Maybe… maybe it was just a misunderstanding.”

“What kind of misunderstanding ends with a woman’s underwear in a man’s pocket? It’s obvious he’s keeping some tramp on the side. That slut probably followed him to the resort, slept with him knowing we were celebrating our anniversary, and then stuffed her trashy underwear in his pocket to taunt me!”

Penelope’s uncannily accurate guess made Rebecca flinch.

“Well…”

“That shameless homewrecker! That tramp! That slut! I hope she gets pregnant and the baby is born without an asshole!”

Rebecca, the target of this very specific curse, choked and coughed a few times.

“Anyway,” Penelope finished, “if he doesn’t explain himself, I’m never forgiving him.”

Rebecca bit her lip. “Should I… call him for you?”

“No. When he gets home and finds me gone, he’ll panic. I want him to panic.”

“Or maybe he’s so angry he won’t even look for you.”

“Even if he has another woman, he doesn’t love her. It’s just a fling, something new and exciting. He only loves me. He’s hopelessly in love with me. I’m confident about that.”

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