Who’s the Dog Now? novel Chapter 49

Sensing trouble, Tiffany quickly stepped in front of Zebulon and looked at Naomi with a pitiful expression. “Naomi, it was my fault that day. If you’re going to blame someone, blame me. Please don’t fight with Zebulon over this. I’m the one who hurt you, and I’m sorry, okay?”

“But even as I apologize, I have to clarify something. Zebulon and I are together because we have real feelings for each other. You two had a verbal agreement, but you weren’t officially engaged. So, I’m not technically intruding. That’s why I can’t accept you calling me the other woman. I hope you can apologize to me for that.”

Naomi stared at Tiffany’s award-worthy performance, feeling a wave of irritation.

“I really don’t get it. I’ve already said that my engagement with Zebulon is off. I have no intention of getting involved with you two again. Colin invited me that day, and I only went because we’re all neighbors. Did you honestly think I wanted to be there?”

“You should spend less time worrying about me and more time figuring out how to keep your man.”

In the past, Naomi would have never been able to say such things.

But now, as she was slowly letting go of Zebulon, the words came easily.

And from the outside, she could see things clearly.

Zebulon probably didn’t even truly like Tiffany. Naomi knew him too well; if he genuinely liked someone, he wouldn’t be so casual about it.

When Naomi first moved to Tyra, she’d heard stories about Zebulon.

Apparently, when he was younger, he became obsessed with West Highland Terriers for a while.

But the Hughes family disapproved, thinking a boy from a prestigious family shouldn’t have such a hobby. They knew Zebulon’s interests were fleeting and worried he would abandon the dog, leaving it for the staff to care for—just another nuisance in the house.

Zebulon had sworn up and down that he wouldn’t.

He begged and pleaded, using every trick in the book until Mrs. Hughes finally relented.

“Do you know what happened to that Westie?” Naomi could still picture the expression on the face of the heiress who told her this gossip.

And Zebulon, the one who had clamored for the dog, gave up on it completely after it didn’t return in a day.

He had desired it so desperately, done everything to get it, and then abandoned it without a second thought.

Tiffany, to Zebulon, was probably no different from that Westie.

In fact, neither was Naomi.

When she first moved in, Zebulon had been kind to her.

He had smiled and said, “So you’re our new neighbor. Hi, I’m Zebulon. We should hang out sometime.”

“Naomi, can I call you that? You’re so sweet. Come on, I’ll show you around and we’ll have some fun!”