With more than ten patents, I smoothly earned me my tenure. At the faculty honors ceremony, my husband Ryan suddenly turned on me in front of everyone. "Does this university have no standards? You'd give tenure to someone who abuses animals?" I had no idea what he was talking about, but Ryan pointed to the dog beside him, his voice dripping with contempt. "The vet said the dog had internal injuries, obvious signs of deliberate abuse. Do I need to throw the proof in your face?" "Stella, what kind of person beats an animal behind closed doors? A sick one." "Now it all makes sense, you keep a dog nobody else wanted just so you have something to hurt when no one's watching." The room exploded. My tenure was revoked on the spot. I was suspended, reprimanded, and within the hour, I was everyone's target. I pushed through the crowd and got in Ryan's face. He looked back at me, unbothered. "You should've let Zoey have the award. Consider this a lesson." "She's young. You're a grown woman. Stop being so petty." Zoey? That talentless pretty girl? I stepped away and called my father overseas, the anger burning through my chest. "Dad. It's time to bury his company." --- The students who used to greet me in the hallways now had fire in their eyes. "Get out of Columbia! Get out of this country!" "Sick freak! Someone punishes her!" Reporters swarmed me with cameras and microphones. Rotten eggs and garbage rained down. I was soaked, my forehead split open and bleeding. Zoey pushed through the crowd, clapped a hand on my shoulder, and put on a show. "Stella, just admit what you did. Don't worry. I'll put in a good word with the president." She turned to face the crowd, all righteous and composed. "Everyone, please go home. I'll talk some sense into Professor Stella." The rage shot straight to my head. I wanted to rip her apart right there. "Save the crocodile tears, Zoey." My vision blurred at the edges. My voice came out louder than I intended. "I did not do anything illegal." "If you have actual evidence, take it to court—stop throwing accusations with zero proof." Ryan crossed his arms, jaw tight. "Evidence? You think I'd make this up?" "Stella, marrying you is the biggest mistake of my life." Everyone praised him for it and said he had the guts to expose his own wife, that he'd torn off my mask and saved more innocent animals from me. Seven years. And he was hell-bent on burning me down for that girl toy. All those years, when Ryan wanted to start his company, I stayed in this city under a false name, feeding him patents, technical support, everything I had, working myself into the ground for his business. The early days were tight, but back then, his whole world was me. I still remembered his arms around my waist, his voice quiet and certain. "Stella, you're going to be the youngest tenured professor at Columbia. And when that day comes, I'll light up the whole city for you." I could still hear it. But that man was gone. I slipped away from the crowd and headed to the president's office. But the situation was already out of control. People online had dug up my phone number, my home address, everything. My phone wouldn't stop ringing the entire walk over. "You call yourself a teacher? You're not even fit to be human." "I swear to God, if I see you, I'll cut you myself." When I finally walked into the office, President Janet took one look at me and covered her nose, disgust all over her face. "You have the nerve to show up here?" Something sour rose in my throat. I kept my voice level. "President Janet, I understand the school needs to act. Suspend me—I'll cooperate. But you cannot publish a formal disciplinary notice. That's a false accusation." She slammed her hand on the desk, grabbed a folder, and threw it at my face. Her finger jabbed at my nose. "False accusation? Your own husband said it. How is that false?" "Stella, either shut up and take it or get out." "Columbia isn't appropriate for someone like you." I pressed my back teeth together. My hands wouldn't stop shaking. Then the door opened. Zoey walked in on Ryan's arm, chin up, heels clicking like she was walking into a room she already owned. President Janet's whole face rearranged itself. She scrambled forward, voice slick. "Mr. Ryan, you didn't have to come yourself—" "I promise, Zoey will have the tenure offer locked in within three days." "As for Stella, she's already suspended. Whatever happens next is entirely your call." Ryan gave a slow, satisfied nod. "I'll add three million on top of the original donation." I stood there, frozen. There was nothing left to figure out. This wasn't just a suspension, wasn't just a disciplinary notice—they had planned the whole thing. The goal was to destroy my reputation and clear the way for Zoey. But none of Ryan's success would exist without me. Where did he think all those patents came from? Years of my work turned into the knife they used to stab me. My chest heaved. I bit down and said it through my teeth. "Forgetting qualifications, Zoey graduated from a third-rate school, has zero patents, zero research output. She doesn't meet a single requirement for this award." "And this is bribery. This is a crime. You think I won't take you to court?"
Zoey's face crumpled into something wounded. "It's all my fault, Ryan. I don't deserve this honor. I'll step down and give it back to Stella—" She wiped at tears that weren't there. Ryan's face flooded with concern. He turned and shot me a hard look. "Take us to court? With what?" "Even if the cops showed up, all they'd find is you smearing innocent people." "Apologize to Zoey. Right now." President Janet looked me up and down, voice flat with contempt. "Stella, you can't win this one. Apologize to Mr. Ryan and maybe you'll still have a place at Columbia. Otherwise—" I looked at all three of them. Then I laughed. "No need. I quit." Janet ran her mouth plenty, but she got one thing right—Columbia wasn't good enough for me. I turned and walked out through their cursing without looking back. When I got home, someone had spray-painted my door. The smell burned my eyes. The hallway was full of neighbors staring at me like I was something that crawled out of a gutter. "Living next to something like this is so disgusting." "Anyone with pets, keep them far away from this freak." I walked in without expression and pulled the divorce papers out of the desk drawer. When I'd given them to Ryan before all this, he'd been too busy throwing Zoey a birthday party to even look at them, just scrawled his name and handed them back. I picked up my phone and scrolled straight into Zoey's latest Instagram post. [Grateful for Ryan's incredible gift! As Columbia's new tenured professor, I'll keep working hard and won't let anyone down!] In the photo, she was leaning against a Maybach, grinning ear to ear. The comments were a pile of praise. [Insane!! Youngest tenured professor in history!] [So talented! Professor Zoey, please look after us!] I zoomed in. It was the car I'd ordered last week. I hadn't even picked it up yet. My blood ran hot. I typed a comment. [Stealing cars now? Do Columbia professors really make that little?] I hit post. Ryan called before the screen even dimmed, his voice sharp. "What is that comment supposed to mean?" "Do you know Zoey just got publicly announced? She can't have any scandals right now." "Delete it. Record a video apology. Now. Or we're getting divorced." I almost laughed. Why? Why did I have to hand over everything I had to that woman? I gripped my phone. "Fine. Let's get divorced. I've been waiting." "And if that car isn't returned to me within two hours, I'm calling the police." I hung up. In the comments, my Columbia colleagues had already picked a side. [Someone is just bitter. Can't earn tenure yourself so you trash-talk everyone else.] [Oh she definitely earned something. The dog can confirm.] I pressed my palm flat on the table and started packing. A while later, the restaurant called to confirm my reservation. I'd booked a private room to celebrate my tenure. But Ryan had burned that. And my colleagues had scattered the moment the wind changed. I went alone, sat down in front of a full table of food, and drank. Shot after shot. The liquor went down hot, and everything from that day got sharper, not duller. From the private room next door, cheering broke through the wall. "Congratulations, Professor Zoey, Columbia's newest tenured professor!"
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