After a flash marriage to my cold, abstinent childhood-friend-turned-professor... He spent every single day at the lab and never came home. During the end-of-semester faculty evaluations, I took the opportunity for some petty revenge using a burner account: [Don't let his sharp nose and good looks fool you, he's actually terrible in bed.] [Honestly, he's worse than the guy selling fried chicken downstairs.] As a result, my cover was blown. That very night, he pinned me against the bathroom wall by my waist: "I'm terrible in bed, am I?" "Hubby, I was wrong..." 1 It was nearing the end of the semester, and the university had just rolled out its new faculty evaluation portal. Anyone could leave a review, and it was completely anonymous. [Ahhhh, Professor Ethan Carter! I! WOULD! DIE! FOR! HIM!] [His fingers are so long, his nose is so sharp, he just looks like he's so good in bed! So~ good~] [I'm handing you the mic, commenter above, please elaborate...] Less than an hour after the platform went live, Ethan's reviews had already broken a thousand comments. His popularity shot straight to number one. I huddled under the covers, scrolling through my phone, the screen casting a sickly green glow over my face. I heard a faint noise from the front door. Ethan must be home. It was so late again! Was academia really that much more interesting than his own wife? Feeling petty, I typed out two quick reviews: [Don't let his sharp nose and good looks fool you, he's actually terrible in bed.] [Honestly, he's worse than the guy selling fried chicken downstairs.] Suddenly, the bedroom door gave a soft click. Panicking, I locked my phone, shoved it under my pillow, and squeezed my eyes shut, pretending to be asleep. I could feel him standing silently by my bed for a moment. Then, just as quietly, he closed the door and left. I let out a long breath. How weird. Did he always check on me like this when I was asleep? 2 My name is Vivian Hayes, and I'm an associate professor at Columbia University. A month ago, I got a flash marriage. The groom was my childhood friend, Ethan Carter. We've known each other for over twenty years. Growing up, he was my absolute nightmare. A boy genius who skipped multiple grades, won every physics olympiad, and got early admission to MIT. By the time I was in high school, this guy was already fast-tracking a combined Master's and Ph.D. program. He was the first triple-MIT graduate I had ever met in real life! Our marriage was essentially sealed over a single dinner between our two families. My family was thrilled to latch onto such a golden boy. Everyone acted like I had won the lottery. The craziest part was that Ethan actually agreed to it. He just had one condition. While our parents were hashing out the wedding details, Ethan had lifted those deep, unfathomable eyes and looked at me calmly. I was already sneaking glances at him, and when our eyes met, my heart leaped into my throat. I instinctively sat up straighter. "I agree to this," he said. "But we delay the wedding ceremony." "And for now... we keep it a secret." When I heard him say he agreed, my heart did a tiny, joyful flip—before immediately plummeting to the floor. If he was so disgusted by the idea of being seen with me, why agree in the first place? I looked at him in confusion, only to find him staring right back. I quickly looked away. What if he thought I was unhappy about it and backed out of the marriage? I felt like a thief, stealing the title of his wife first. I'd figure out the rest later. Who could blame me? I actually really liked him. 3 Everyone on the Columbia faculty knew that Ethan and I had a terrible relationship. Or rather, a highly antagonistic one. His specialty was theoretical physics. Mine was experimental physics. He was a full, tenured Professor. I was just an Associate Professor. He had a venomous tongue and always managed to belittle my field of research to absolute dust. He acted like theoretical physicists were the only ones on the bleeding edge, and I was just a grunt with my head down, validating his genius. "You'll always just be following behind me." That was his assessment of me on an academic level. But it felt like his definition of me as a person, too. Every time we argued, it only took a few days for me to forget why I was even mad, and I'd shamelessly wander back over to him. Only to lose another debate and storm off in a fit of helpless rage. The department head was so worried about us starting a brawl that he put our offices on opposite ends of the hallway, separated by a stairwell. Unless there was a faculty meeting, we practically never saw each other. I just didn't expect that even after getting married, we'd still barely see each other. Our apartment was right near campus, all paid for and arranged by our families. On the master bed, the ridiculously festive, bright-red marital sheets were almost as red as my ears. I stared down at the matching slippers on the floor, too nervous to look at him. Suddenly, Ethan's calm voice drifted over: "I'll take the master bedroom. You can pick whichever of the guest rooms you want." My heart sank like a stone. I mumbled under my breath, "We're married and you're still treating me like a disease. What do you think I'm going to do to you..." "What was that?" Ethan hadn't heard me clearly. "Nothing," I said, my tone dripping with sarcasm. "Good thing this place has so many bedrooms, or we might actually have to share space." Ethan went silent for a half-second. Then, his voice tight, he asked, "Vivian, when our parents were discussing the marriage, you never said a word." "So, what is your stance?" "Did you actually agree to this, or were you against it?" My heart hammered against my ribs. I shot a panicked look at him, terrified he could hear it beating. After a long pause, I said, "Did I even have a say in the matter?" I felt too guilty to look him in the eye. Ethan sounded like he was gritting his teeth. "Fine." With that, he pushed open the door to the master bedroom and slammed it shut with a loud BANG. I was locked out. Was he... mad? 4 I took the guest room right next to the master suite. In the month since we got our marriage license, the only time I actually saw Ethan was the day we moved in. We saw each other less now than we did before the wedding. In the mornings, he left for campus before I woke up. At night, he stayed locked in his lab researching quantum mechanics until god knows when. By the time he got home, I was already fast asleep. He was never home, and I refused to text him first. It felt like a petty cold war. No seeing each other, no talking. Honestly, the emotional value Ethan provided me was lower than the delivery guy from the highest-rated fried chicken spot on DoorDash. At least that guy's chicken was actually delicious. 5 At 7:00 AM, my biological clock woke me up. Ethan was already gone. On my walk to campus, I couldn't shake the feeling that people were staring at me. It gave me the creeps. I whipped my head around to look. A few undergrads who looked vaguely familiar immediately ducked their heads, hunched their shoulders, and scurried away, whispering to each other. I think they were physics majors. When I got to the lab building, even the other professors were giving me weird, sly grins in the hallway. Professor Davis from the lab next door trotted over, clutching her Yeti mug, a massive grin on her face. "Professor Hayes, you are absolutely legendary!" "Of course I am," I said, sticking my nose in the air. I had just published a paper in a core journal, and the impact factor was looking stellar. Professor Davis chuckled. "You should have seen Professor Carter's face when he walked in this morning. It was pure thunder." "Wait, he's actually jealous?" I was shocked. Ethan was the last person on earth who needed another journal publication. If you lined up all his published papers, they'd circle the globe. He was actually jealous of me? Professor Davis pushed her glasses up her nose. "Well, no man can handle that kind of insult! Especially coming from you!" I frowned, racking my brain. What exactly did I write in my paper that managed to trigger Ethan Carter so badly? She patted my shoulder. "Don't worry, if Professor Carter tries to kill you, I'll call campus security." "Uh? It's not that serious, is it?" Even at the peak of our worst arguments, he'd never laid a finger on me. She nodded vigorously. "Of course it is! You told the whole school he doesn't last as long as the fried chicken guy! How is he supposed to live that down?!" "Wait, what?" It suddenly hit me. I made a terrible mistake. I whipped out my phone and opened the portal— Black text glared back at me on a white screen. Right next to my snarky comment, where the anonymous username was supposed to be, it boldly displayed: [Vivian Hayes]. 6 I couldn't believe it! I made the ultimate rookie mistake! I forgot to check the "Anonymous" box when I was roasting Ethan?! I wanted the earth to swallow me whole. I frantically texted my graduate TA, begging him to cover my undergrad lecture that afternoon. I packed my bag and sprinted for the stairs on my side of the building, desperate to escape. The stairwell was dim, the motion-sensor lights completely failing me. I was plunged into darkness. I was looking down at my phone and missed a step, pitching forward. Someone happened to be coming up the stairs right at the landing, and I slammed face-first into their chest. The pecs were rock hard, and the cologne smelled incredible. Just from one touch, I could tell whoever caught me definitely had the physical stats to back it up! Wait, the smell was familiar. We had a guy this hot in the physics department? "Thank you, thank you so much!" I babbled, trying to stand up straight. Instead of letting me go, the guy gripped my arms and pinned me back against the concrete wall. As his face leaned into the dim light, I finally saw who it was. My brain flatlined. Alarm bells blared in my head. It was Ethan. His eyes were dark with suppressed fury. He lowered his voice and asked, "Vivian, have I been a little too lenient with you lately?" I forced a dumb, innocent smile. "I have no idea what you're talking about." "What exactly is going on between you and the guy selling fried chicken?" he asked through gritted teeth. Seriously, is that the part you're hung up on? "Ethan? Are you up there?" A gentle, melodic woman's voice echoed from the bottom of the stairs. My heart skipped a painful beat. I looked past him. A tall, slender, strikingly beautiful woman was hopping up the steps on one crutch. It was Chloe Sterling. The exact second she appeared and saw us, Ethan shoved me away. He did it in a panic, like he was trying to avoid suspicion. Like I was something filthy. He pushed me away. My back hit the wall lightly, but my entire body ached. What was he so afraid of her seeing? 7 Squinting in the low light, Chloe looked between the two of us. Leaning on her crutch, her gaze lingered on my face for a few seconds before she let out a soft laugh. "Ethan, Vivian was just joking with you. Don't be so mad at her. You know she scares easily." Ethan's eyes never left Chloe's face. Chloe was a dance instructor at the university's arts program, and a rising star in the American ballet scene. She definitely knew about my comment on the evaluation portal. This was an issue between me and my husband, yet here she was, acting like she was his closest confidante, mediating on my behalf. Was she even close to me? I stared hard at Ethan, waiting to see what he would do. "Yeah, I can't be bothered. It's too childish," Ethan said quietly. He just went right along with her. And with his words, my heart sank inch by inch into the floor. Ethan shot me a cool, dismissive glance, a mocking smile playing on his lips. "It's extremely childish." My throat felt like sandpaper. I changed the subject. "Chloe, what happened to your leg?" "I tweaked my ankle during rehearsals. It hurts a bit." She furrowed her perfectly shaped brows, looking like a fragile doll that needed protecting. Ethan frowned in concern. "I told you to wait for me downstairs. Why did you walk up?" "I haven't visited your lab in so long, Ethan! I wanted to rest up there," Chloe said with a bright, charming smile. I rolled my eyes so hard internally I saw my own brain. If she managed to hop up three flights of stairs on one foot, the sprain would probably heal itself in five minutes. "Alright, let's go up. Want some coffee?" Ethan sighed, sounding fond and helpless. He never gave me another glance. He just supported Chloe by the arm and walked her up the stairs toward his office. Looking at them from behind, leaning on each other, they looked like a picture-perfect couple. Chloe had the mature, elegant allure of a sophisticated woman. She was understanding and sweet. I was just childish. I wasn't mature enough to stand beside him. 8 Chloe, Ethan, and I had all known each other since we were kids. Her father was a board member of the Carter family's corporation, though he didn't hold many shares. But Ethan's grandfather adored Chloe. For a long time, he treated her like his future granddaughter-in-law, and her parents explicitly raised her with the goal of marrying Ethan. Naturally, the two of them were always close. While my parents were turning me into the ultimate overachieving stress-case—forcing me to study relentlessly, enter competitions, and take endless exams until I couldn't breathe—Chloe was learning piano, ballet, and fine art. She grew up radiating high-class elegance, artistic talent practically oozing from her pores. And she was genuinely gifted. She choreographed solo routines that won national awards and had a massive following on Instagram. She had always positioned herself as Ethan's soulmate. She probably didn't even know that I had hijacked her golden boy. I used to be so jealous of her. Ethan was always so gentle and patient when taking care of Chloe. But the second he saw me, he'd scowl, nitpick everything I did, and look thoroughly annoyed by my existence. Marrying me must feel like a life sentence to him. 9 Right before my final lecture of the day, Ethan sent me a text: [When you get home tonight, I'm going to show you exactly how 'terrible' I am.] My hand shook so badly I almost dropped my phone. What do I do? How was I supposed to go home after that?! If I went home, I was a dead woman! I spent the last few minutes of class completely spaced out, having no idea what I was even saying. Driven by pure fear, the second work ended, I agreed to join a small happy hour organized by a few professors I was friendly with in the physics department. My original plan was to use the socializing as an excuse to go home late. Maybe I'd have a little liquid courage, and then I could bravely face Ethan. I never in a million years expected to see Ethan at this tiny, casual get-together. I was invited by Professor Davis. Ethan was invited by Professor Miller. Clearly, the two of them hadn't communicated. When we all sat down and stared at each other in the private room of the sushi restaurant, the air was so thick with awkwardness you could cut it with a knife. The other professors looked like they wanted to evacuate the building. I grabbed Professor Davis by the sleeve and hissed through my teeth, "You didn't tell me he was coming!" "It's all Miller's fault!" she whispered back, looking like she wanted to cry. When we settled down, I took the seat farthest away from Ethan. One of our colleagues nervously chuckled and asked, "Professor Carter, you never come to these faculty dinners. What brings you out tonight?" Ethan smiled, a sharp, dangerous curve of his lips. "Just wanted to join the fun." "After all, I'd just be going home to an empty house anyway." His eyes locked onto me, heavy with implication. I kept my head down and pretended I was suddenly very interested in my chopsticks. Everyone silently agreed not to bring up the feud between me and Ethan, but after a few rounds of drinks, things always go off the rails. After we finished the sushi, everyone decided to hit a karaoke bar for round two. I raised my hand and said I wanted to go home. Surprisingly, Ethan spoke up at the exact same time: "I'm a bit tired too." I panicked. If his next sentence was "I'll take her home," I was doomed. At least here there were witnesses! If we went home alone, I stood zero chance in a fight against him! I quickly backpedaled: "Never mind, I'll hang out with you guys a little longer." My colleagues howled off-key into the microphones while Ethan and I sat on opposite ends of the long leather sofa. Everyone tacitly formed a buffer zone between us. After singing for over an hour, the crowd got bored and decided to play Truth or Dare. A bunch of middle-aged academics huddled around an empty beer bottle, cheering like frat boys. The bottle spun and landed perfectly, pointing right at Ethan. Before anyone could even ask, he simply said, "Truth." Professor Miller thought for a moment and asked, "Professor Carter, do you have a girlfriend?" The rest of the faculty exchanged knowing smirks. Everyone knew Ethan was famously aloof, a total lone wolf who never showed interest in women—except for Chloe Sterling from the arts department. The entire campus basically assumed Ethan and Chloe were one confession away from being an official couple. Ethan looked up. In the dim, flashing neon lights of the karaoke room, his eyes were bright. He thought of something, and the corners of his mouth lifted into a genuine, star-striking smile. He opened his mouth and said, "No. But there is a girl I really, really like." The room erupted into cheers and whistling. They were practically chanting Chloe's name. Next to me, Professor Davis whispered, "Oh my god, my ship is sailing." I sat there, my lips stretched into a hideous, painful smile. So that's why he smiled so beautifully. He was thinking about Chloe. Then what did that make me?
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "410901", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel