The Year I Was the Other Woman To Myself novel Chapter 79

Theodore looked from the guilty-looking Penelope to his own assistant, Harold, who had just walked in. A laugh, thick with disbelief and irony, escaped him.

So, all this time, she thought her fiancé was Harold?

“You…”

“Shh! Don’t talk! He’ll misunderstand!”

“I…”

“Quiet! Do you want to be labeled the other man?”

Theodore scoffed. He had no desire to be the other man. He pushed the curtain aside and strode out.

Penelope, her eyes glued on the man outside, wasn’t prepared for Theodore’s sudden exit. She failed to grab him, and a cold sweat broke out on her forehead.

It’s over. It’s all over…

“Mr. Stapleton, the meeting starts in ten minutes.” Harold, though curious as to why his boss had just emerged from behind a curtain, knew better than to ask.

“Alright. Go get things ready.”

“Yes, sir.”

Harold left. Theodore walked over to the locker Penelope had previously cornered him against and began to change.

He was fully dressed, but the person behind the curtain hadn’t moved.

“You can stay there as long as you like, but I can’t guarantee you won’t be mistaken for a pervert and beaten up,” he said, his voice laced with amusement.

After a long silence, a strained voice came from behind the curtain.

“So you’re Mr. Johnson’s son?”

“I am.”

“But how…?”

“You have doubts?”

“You two don’t look anything alike.”

“Who says a father and son have to look alike? What if I take after my mother?”

“That’s possible.”

“Ha. Thank you for your understanding.”

“You should go. I just…”

Behind the curtain, Penelope covered her face. She considered herself thick-skinned, but this was a level of embarrassment she couldn’t handle.

She heard footsteps, not moving away, but coming closer.

“I’ll count to three. One… two…”

Confused, Penelope took it.

“Fiancée,” he said. “A pleasure working with you.”

With that, he straightened up, gave her one last deep, smiling look, and left the changing room.

Penelope walked out of the swimming complex in a daze. The cool sea breeze on her face finally snapped her back to reality. She was here to talk business with him, and once again, she had failed to even bring it up.

Fine. First things first, she needed to clear her head.

She returned to the hotel’s front desk to finally check in.

“Oh, Ms. Laurier, didn’t you cancel your reservation earlier?”

Penelope blinked. “When did I cancel it?”

The receptionist looked confused. “The gentleman who came in with you—wasn’t that your husband? He booked a different room and canceled your original reservation.”

Penelope’s brow furrowed. The man who had come in with her was Zebulon.

He canceled her reservation?

That psycho!

“Fine. Can you just get me another room?”

The receptionist gave her an apologetic look. “I’m so sorry, Ms. Laurier, but we’re fully booked.”