Returning to the Sullivan house was out of the question. By agreeing to the Johnson marriage, she had made her stance clear. She had no intention of letting Zebulon touch her ever again.
For now, she went back to Rebecca’s apartment, with Zebulon driving them.
On the way, Penelope mentioned she was craving crayfish from a place in Timothy Alley, and Zebulon immediately offered to make the hour-long drive to get some for her.
“Rebecca, do you want any?” Penelope asked sweetly.
Rebecca put on a disapproving look. “Zebulon’s had a long day at work. You shouldn’t make him drive all that way just for crayfish. Have some consideration for him.”
“You’re right,” Penelope said, turning to Zebulon. “Are you very tired?”
He looked at her with adoration. “For you, I’d pluck the stars from the sky.”
“I’d like that.”
“Aren’t you afraid I’d get stuck up there and never come back down?”
“Then I could just look up at the stars every night and see you.”
“But I don’t want to be a star. I want to be your loyal servant.”
“I could use a dog.”
“Woof, woof.”
This saccharine exchange was too much for Rebecca. Her face hardening, she went inside the apartment.
“Should I get you the garlic butter flavor?” Penelope called after her cheerfully.
“Whatever,” Rebecca snapped.
Zebulon left, and Penelope followed Rebecca into the apartment, just in time to hear a loud crash from her room. Two hours later, Zebulon returned, out of breath, worried Penelope might have fallen asleep before he got back with her food.


Verify captcha to read the content
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: The Year I Was the Other Woman To Myself