The Year I Was the Other Woman To Myself novel Chapter 40

He was so furious at Zebulon’s words that his hands trembled, nearly dropping the plate.

“Penelope, please, eat the pasta,” Zebulon said, his tone practically pleading.

But Penelope’s expression remained like ice. “Just go.”

“Penelope…”

“I don’t believe a single word of the story you just made up.”

“But it’s the truth…”

“Get out!”

A flicker of anger ignited in Zebulon, but he forced it down.

“I’ll come see you tomorrow.”

With that, he stood and strode out of the room.

“Zebulon, I’ll see you out!”

Rebecca quickly dropped what she was doing and hurried after him, catching up just as he reached the elevator.

“I can’t believe Penelope,” she huffed. “You were practically groveling, and she’s still holding that one little mistake over your head!”

Zebulon’s eyes narrowed as he remembered the root of the problem, and he shot Rebecca a cold glare. “If it weren’t for you, Penelope wouldn’t be this angry in the first place!”

“I…” Rebecca lowered her head. “I just love you so much. I couldn’t help myself.”

“Loving me isn’t the problem,” he snapped. “The problem is you let Penelope find out!”

“It won’t happen again.”

Seeing her with her head bowed, her hands twisting the hem of her shirt in a display of timid vulnerability, Zebulon’s expression softened slightly.

“Fine. We’ll leave it at that for now.”

A wave of relief washed over Rebecca as she looked up at him. “Oh, honey, thank you for forgiving me.”

Zebulon savored her submission, pulling her into a brief embrace.

“Honey, tonight, are we…”

“Right,” he interrupted, pulling away. “The forecast said it might get cold tonight. Make sure Penelope has an extra blanket. And check on her during the night. If she’s kicked the covers off, pull them back over her. We can’t have her catching a cold—you know how much she hates taking medicine.”

The elevator arrived, its doors sliding open and swallowing him whole.

Rebecca stood there long after he was gone, a fire of jealousy threatening to burn her to ash.

She said her farewells to her colleagues in the project department one by one, then gathered her personal belongings.

Just as she was about to leave, Tracy from the CEO’s office stepped in front of her.

“Ms. Laurier, you’re free to leave the company, but you can’t take anything with you. Given your previous senior role, we have to take precautions to ensure no confidential documents leave the premises and cause significant losses for the company down the line.”

Penelope scoffed. “This box is full of my personal items. What right do you have to confiscate it?”

“Those are the president’s orders.”

She had worked here for six years, and she didn’t want to tarnish what few good memories she had left.

“Fine. I’ll just take this picture frame. That should be all right, shouldn’t it?”

It was the only photo she had of herself and her mother.

The assistant shook her head. “No.”

Penelope’s eyes narrowed. This was going too far.

Fine. It looked like she’d have to leave them with a little parting gift after all.

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