The Year I Was the Other Woman To Myself novel Chapter 9

Zebulon was genuinely angry that Penelope had rejected his “gift.” He didn’t say a word to her on the entire drive home. When they arrived, Mrs. Sullivan saw her son’s foul mood and immediately shot Penelope a venomous glare.

Penelope ignored her and went upstairs to change.

When she came down for dinner, Mr. Sullivan and Zebulon were not eating at home. Mrs. Sullivan was sitting alone at the table, where no place had been set for her.

“Seeing as you’re in such a temper, I figured you weren’t hungry. I told Luna not to prepare anything for you.”

“Is that so?”

Just then, Luna came out of the kitchen with a platter of food. Penelope moved to take it from her. Since she used to help with dinner preparations, Luna assumed she was offering to help now and handed it over without a second thought.

But Penelope feigned a clumsy fumble, letting the platter slip through her fingers. It crashed to the floor.

Mrs. Sullivan immediately rounded on her. “What is wrong with you? You can’t even do something as simple as carrying a plate? This family truly got the short end of the stick with you!”

“It was an accident,” Penelope said, her face a mask of distress. She rushed into the kitchen, grabbed a new plate, and then proceeded to scoop the spilled food from the floor back onto it. She then slammed the plate down in front of Mrs. Sullivan.

“What… what do you think you’re doing?”

“Eat up. Don’t let it go to waste.”

“You want me to eat garbage off the floor?”

“Isn’t garbage right up your alley?”

“You—!”

Penelope playfully tapped her on the forehead. “I know, I know.”

When she walked into the department, all eyes turned to her, full of concern and questions. Penelope offered them a reassuring smile.

“Penelope, you’re finally here! Come with me to see the president,” Rebecca said, striding over. She was dressed in a sharp business suit but wore flat shoes, making her appear significantly shorter than Penelope.

She grabbed Penelope’s arm, ready to drag her to the president’s office. “The president suddenly asked me to take over, but how could I take credit for your work? I tried to refuse, but he was adamant. I had no choice but to accept for now, but I was waiting for you so we could go and clear this up with him together.”

Rebecca was clearly putting on a show for the rest of the department, positioning herself as a loyal friend who would forsake her own gain. As expected, the other team members looked at her with admiration.

Penelope just looked at her. When had her best friend become this phony, manipulative stranger? Or had she just never truly seen her for who she was?

If she went with Rebecca to Mr. Sullivan’s office, the outcome was already decided: he would firmly kick her off the project and “force” Rebecca to take over. That way, no one would think Rebecca had stabbed her friend in the back. They would just assume Penelope had done something to deserve it.