Alan's stomach was acting up, so I spent the morning making his favorite chicken soup. I drove to his university lab, but a sign at the entrance stopped me cold: "No Dogs or Mia Hayes Allowed"—with my photo attached. I was reaching for my phone to call Alan when a bucket of icy water crashed down from above, drenching me. Jessy White, his star student, leaned out a window, feigning surprise. "Mia! What's a housewife doing at the lab? You should be at home!" she chirped. "And don’t mind the sign—it’s just an inside joke. You wouldn’t get it." Soaked and shivering, my makeup streaked and dress clinging, I stood frozen as Alan rushed down, dragging Jessy by the ear. "She’s young and just jokes around," he said soothingly. "You’re not mad, are you?" Jessy stuck out her tongue. "It’s your fault! You lost the bet, so I put up the sign. And you still owe me that ghost-pepper hot pot!" She glanced at the thermos in my hand and smirked. "Mia, the professor doesn’t even like your soup. I always end up finishing it. You can just give that one to me." 1 Before I could react, her hand was already reaching for the thermos. I shoved her away. A tidal wave of rage and hurt crashed over me, so strong it was hard to breathe. No wonder Alan, who always ate so blandly, had suddenly developed stomach problems. He’d been out stuffing his face with spicy food to entertain someone else. The moment my hand made contact with Jessy, Alan reacted instinctively. He lunged forward, pulling her into the protective circle of his arms before realizing what he’d done and quickly letting go. Jessy’s eyes immediately welled with tears. Her voice cracked as she spoke. “Mia, the sign was just a joke. I know you’re upset, but you can’t just push me like that!” She looked around at the gathering students, her voice rising. “I know you grew up rich and you’re used to getting your way, but this is a university. We’re all equals here. How could you humiliate me like this?” I almost laughed out loud at the sheer audacity. She puts up a sign with my picture on it calling me a dog, dumps water on me, and now she’s the one being humiliated? Alan patted Jessy’s head, his tone lacking any real reprimand. “Alright, you poured water on her, so you’re even. Let’s just drop it.” He turned to me, his gaze taking in my drenched state. He frowned and started shrugging off his white lab coat to drape over my shoulders. “Mia, don’t take it out on Jessy. She’s just brutally honest, that’s all. She doesn’t mean any harm.” I flinched back, refusing his touch. A heavy cloud of perfume wafted from the coat—the same cloying, sweet scent Jessy was wearing. The smell mixed with the damp chill on my skin, making my stomach turn. “Oh!” Jessy exclaimed, as if a thought had just occurred to her. She gave me a small, smug smile. “Mia, please don’t get the wrong idea. I know you housewives have a tendency to overthink things.” She pointed at the lab coat in Alan’s hand, her voice dripping with a sense of superiority. “I was running an experiment late last night and spilled something on my clothes, so I borrowed Professor Hayes’s coat. We’re always pulling all-nighters for project deadlines. Sharing clothes, using each other’s things… it’s completely normal for us. But you’re a little older, and you’re not in our circle, so I guess you wouldn’t know that.” She finished, watching me with a bright, expectant smile, waiting for my reaction. The students who had gathered were now whispering among themselves. “At the department dinner last month, Jessy got wasted and puked all over Professor Hayes. He’s usually such a clean freak, but he wasn’t even mad. He just got her water and rubbed her back.” “That’s nothing. They’re so close. Honestly, sometimes it seems like he’s closer to her than to his own wife…” The student was silenced by a sharp elbow from a friend, but the fragments I’d heard were enough to paint a vivid, ugly picture. I looked at Jessy, my voice surprisingly calm. Only I could feel the lump of emotion lodged in my throat. “So you really like my soup?” Jessy seemed taken aback by the question. After a brief pause, she flashed her usual bright smile. “Of course! That chicken soup you made last time was delicious, though it could have used a little more salt. I already told Professor Hayes.” She winked at Alan, then turned her easy, confident gaze back to me. “You added more salt this time, right?” She spoke with such casual entitlement, you’d think she was talking to her hired help. I loosened my white-knuckled grip on the thermos. I bent down, opened it, and placed it on the ground in front of a stray dog sniffing around a nearby trash can. Then, I smiled sweetly at Jessy. “Yes, I added more salt.” I paused, watching the dog start to lap at the soup. “But I’d rather feed it to a stray than let you have a single drop. At least a dog knows loyalty.” 2 Jessy’s face went pale. She understood exactly what I meant. When she was ten years old, she didn’t even have a proper name, just a cruel nickname given to her by her family. She was living in some forgotten, impoverished mountain town, her body covered in bruises from her parents’ beatings. I was there on a charity mission, delivering supplies, when she fell to her knees in the dirt and begged me to save her. My heart broke for her. I brought her back to the city with me, paid for her education, and personally taught her everything—from how to dress and carry herself to the books that would shape her mind. I had transformed Jessy from a scrawny, terrified child into a poised and brilliant student at a prestigious university. A dog, at least, will wag its tail in gratitude. And how did Jessy repay me? By setting her sights on my husband the moment she got into his lab. What made me feel even sicker was that Alan had let it happen. He had indulged her. Now, here she was, young and vibrant, her eyes red as she pointed an accusing finger at me. “How could you say that? How could you compare me to a dog?” she shrieked. “I know you’ve been a pampered heiress your whole life, totally different from normal people like me. But I’m not your servant! You can’t insult me like this! I demand an apology, right now!” Tears streamed down her face, her shoulders shaking with perfectly timed, dramatic sobs. Alan’s frown deepened. He looked at me, his voice softening just a fraction. “Mia. It’s the day of Jessy’s dissertation defense. Just apologize to her so we can move on. Don’t let this derail her big day.” He paused, glancing at my disheveled appearance as if just noticing it. “Besides, your clothes are soaked. You should go home and change before you catch a cold.” He said it all so matter-of-factly, as if his logic was irrefutable. I watched him subtly position himself in front of Jessy, shielding her as if he expected me to attack her. The irony was so thick I could taste it. For our entire lives, he had always been the one to shield me. A fire ignited in my chest, and my entire body started to tremble with rage. Seeing my silence, Alan gestured to two female students nearby. “Can you two please escort my wife home?” He turned back to me, lowering his voice into the familiar, cajoling tone he used when he wanted to soothe me. “Mia, please, just go home. We’ll talk about this tonight when I get back.” The two young women approached me timidly. “Mrs. Hayes, we can walk you home.” I never made a habit of taking my anger out on bystanders. I gave them a quiet nod and turned to leave. As I walked away, I heard Jessy’s voice, now laced with a triumphant, flirtatious whine. “Professor Hayes, what if she uses her family’s power to pressure the university? What if she tries to stop me from graduating?” Alan, a man I’d only ever seen be cool and distant with others, actually chuckled. “You? The little tyrant who bosses me around the lab and drags me out for spicy food challenges? Since when are you afraid of anything?” he teased. “Mia’s all bark and no bite. She won’t do anything to you. Besides,” he added, his voice dropping slightly, “I’m here to protect you, aren’t I?” Their shared laughter followed me down the path. I clenched my fists so tightly my nails dug into my palms, a bitter smile twisting my lips. It seemed that after all these years of marriage, Alan still hadn’t learned a single thing about me. When I, Mia Hayes, decided to destroy someone, did he really think he could protect them? 3 On the way home, the two students kept exchanging hesitant glances. Finally, one of them took a deep breath and held out her phone. “Mrs. Hayes… you should probably see this. It’s been trending on the campus forum.” It was a pinned post at the top of the page. “Debate Topic: Are Professor Alan Hayes and Jessy White the Ultimate Academic Power Couple?” I took the phone, my thumb scrolling down. The post was filled with photos. There was one of them standing shoulder-to-shoulder at an academic conference, another of them leaning over a desk in the lab, heads close together as they discussed data. In another, Jessy was smiling, playfully adjusting Alan’s tie as he leaned down to accommodate her. My grip on the phone tightened. I had bought him that tie. I had tied it for him myself just that morning. The original poster gushed, “OMG you guys, who gets it?! Professor Hayes is so serious and brilliant, and Jessy is so sharp and witty. When they team up in debates, they absolutely destroy everyone! It’s like they can read each other’s minds!” The thread had hundreds of replies. “This is what a partnership of equals looks like. Some trophy wives just wouldn’t understand.” “Dude, don’t be so harsh. You gotta leave her with some dignity. I mean, making soup is a skill, right?” I read through them, one by one. The phone’s screen cast a harsh light on my face, making my eyes sting. So that’s how they saw it. Alan and Jessy were the perfect match, soulmates destined for greatness. And I was just… the superfluous trophy wife, the parasitic vine who couldn’t even keep up. Then, a different kind of reply caught my eye. “What the hell is wrong with you people? Do any of you have a clue how amazing Professor Hayes and Mia were back in the day?” “I went to undergrad with them. They were the real power couple, the kind of love story you read about.” “Mia gave up her spot in the PhD program—a guaranteed spot—to go work and support Alan so he could pursue his research.” “The day Alan defended his own doctorate, he didn’t celebrate with anyone else. He ran straight home to Mia, saying he had to share that moment with the most important person in his life. He said she meant more to him than any academic achievement.” “And now you’re calling her a trophy wife? Saying they have nothing in common? Without Mia, there probably wouldn’t even be a ‘Professor Hayes’ today!” The replies fell silent for a moment. Then a few more trickled in. “I’m in the physics department, I’ve heard rumors that his wife basically bankrolled his early career.” “If that’s true, then Professor Hayes’s behavior now is… seriously messed up.” “Is it just me, or does it seem like Jessy is deliberately trying to copy Mia’s old vibe? That whole ‘brilliant and independent’ thing…” I stopped reading. The posts were right, but they didn’t have the full story. Both my family and Alan’s were titans of industry, old money with sprawling empires. When we got married, it was understood that one of us would have to step back from our personal ambitions to take the reins. Alan couldn’t bear to leave academia, so I was the one who gave up my doctorate to manage the family enterprise. Back then, I had no idea what I was sacrificing for what I thought was love. But now, at thirty-two, I understood perfectly. In everyone else’s eyes, I had long ago forfeited the right to stand by Alan’s side as an equal. My phone rang, pulling me from my thoughts. It was Alan. His voice, tight with suppressed fury, hit me like a physical blow. “Mia, that post on the forum. Did you have someone write that?” “Jessy saw it. She’s been crying for an hour. Her defense is this afternoon, she can’t be this emotional.” “I don’t care what you’re thinking, but you need to get that post deleted immediately. And then you will apologize to Jessy.” “Whatever issue you have, you take it up with me. Don’t you dare use these cheap, underhanded tricks to ruin her future!” In the background, I could hear the faint, pitiful sound of Jessy’s sobbing. Suddenly, the storm of emotion inside me subsided, replaced by a cold, chilling calm. Ten years of marriage, a lifetime of shared history since childhood, all of it weighed less than a few of Jessy’s tears. It was utterly, laughably absurd. When I finally spoke, my voice was flat, devoid of any inflection. “Alan.” “First, I don’t have access to your university’s internal forum. I didn’t post it.” There was a moment of silence on his end. I let out a small, sharp laugh. “And second,” I said, my voice dropping to a near whisper, “you can tell her this.” “She hasn't even begun to see what my ‘tricks’ look like.” “It’s far too early for tears.” 4 I hung up before he could respond and immediately composed two texts. The first was to the various professors on the dissertation committee, asking them to help me stall for time. The second went to my assistant, instructing him to gather the information I needed and print it into bound booklets. I was about to give Jessy a graduation gift she would never forget. After that was done, I went home, showered, and changed into a sharp powersuit. I had my driver take me to the hall where Jessy’s defense was being held. On the way, my phone buzzed. It was a video file from one of Alan’s more loyal students, followed by a frantic series of voice messages. “Mrs. Hayes! Something terrible just happened!” I opened the video. The screen showed the large projection screen at the front of the lecture hall. Jessy was at the podium, having just said, “Now, if you’ll direct your attention to my research data…” The next slide wasn’t data. It was a photo. A shockingly intimate photo of me, one Alan had taken. One meant only for him. A wave of hushed gasps and stifled laughter filled the hall. I could hear a few male students whispering, “Damn, the professor’s wife is secretly a smokeshow… Alan’s a lucky guy…” Jessy let out a little shriek, fumbling with the remote clicker. Her face was flushed, her voice choked with fake panic. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I used Professor Hayes’s laptop to make the presentation… I must have accidentally dragged in a picture from another folder! I didn’t mean to!” She clicked the button again, and another photo flashed on the screen. And another. Different angles, all of them private, intimate moments between my husband and me, now on public display. The murmuring in the hall grew louder. The video ended with a close-up of Jessy’s face, a perfect picture of flustered innocence. But I could see it clearly. The corners of her mouth were turned up in a triumphant smile. Alan rushed onto the stage, blocking the camera’s view as the video cut out. My hands clenched around the phone, a deep, glacial cold spreading through my chest. More messages flooded in from the student. “Mrs. Hayes, please don’t be upset. Maybe… maybe everyone will forget about it in a few days.” I knew he was just trying to be kind. Those photos would be all over campus by nightfall, fodder for endless gossip and speculation. A sharp, acidic sting hit the back of my nose, and my eyes burned. I bit down on my lip, hard, forcing back the hot, scalding wave of humiliation that threatened to overwhelm me. Don’t you dare cry, Mia. Not here. Not now. But my throat felt like it was clogged with wet cement, heavy and raw, making it impossible to breathe. So this is what it felt like to be stripped naked in front of the world. I swallowed hard, pushing the feeling down, and picked up the freshly printed booklets my assistant had just delivered. I got out of the car. I slipped into the lecture hall through a back door just as Alan was making his closing remarks from the stage, his voice firm and steady. “First, I expect everyone here to delete any photos or videos of today’s unfortunate incident. Do not share them. If I find out you have, there will be serious consequences.” “Second, Jessy is a student I have personally mentored. She can be a bit clumsy, but she is a good person and she has worked incredibly hard. If she struggles with any of your questions today, I ask that you please remember that, and perhaps go a little easy on her… for my sake.” He probably didn’t even realize the sheer depth of affection that colored his voice when he spoke her name. Jessy was the first to spot me. The smile vanished from her face. She shot to her feet, her voice high and shrill as she pointed at me. “What are you doing here?” “You’re not a student! You’re not allowed in here! Get out! Get out right now!” Every eye in the room swiveled from Alan to me. I could feel their gazes on my skin like tiny, sharp needles—a mixture of curiosity, pity, and vulgar speculation. I met their stares without flinching, my eyes finally landing on Jessy’s furious face. I gave her a small, serene smile. “Jessy, darling.” “I raised you for ten years.” “From the time you were a little girl of ten until you were a young woman of twenty.” “By any measure, wouldn’t that make me your mother, in a way?” I watched the color drain from her face as I held up the booklet in my hand. “So I came to watch my daughter defend her dissertation…” “Is that not allowed?”
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