Chapter 4 Public Humiliation and the Cold Counterattack

Raymond’s patience is wearing thin. His lawyer’s blowing up his phone, pushing me to sign the “divorce papers” ASAP. If I don’t, the fake asset transfer evidence he cooked up could get exposed.

He decides to break me—for good.

The university’s holding a campus-wide academic symposium, and I’m one of the main speakers. Raymond seats Emma front row, letting her stare at me with that smug “I won” look.

I stand at the podium in a crisp suit, face calm. Deep down, I know this is my marriage’s rock bottom—but I can’t crack.

Halfway through my talk, Raymond stands up.

“Excuse me, Professor Cole,” he says, fake concerned. “On page 35 of your report—isn’t the data off compared to our project last year? That’s… pretty serious for academia.”

His words are soft, but they hit the room like a bomb.

All eyes turn to me—whispers, pity. The unspoken question Did her messy marriage make her mess up her work?

Emma sits in the corner, smirking. She thinks she’s watching me break.

Humiliation washes over me, but inside? I’m ice.

I don’t defend myself. Instead, I look past Raymond to Emma’s smug face and smile faintly.

“Thanks for pointing that out, Professor Hale. I accept the correction,” I say, calm but sharp. “There is a ‘small’ discrepancy.”

Raymond and Emma think they’ve won. “Nobody’s perfect,” he says, fake nice. “Just be more careful next time.”

But right when he’s celebrating, my gaze hardens.

“However,” I say, loud enough for everyone to hear, “I’m accepting your correction—not the data error.”

I click my remote. The slide flips—no more graphs, just photos of Raymond and Emma together, plus a transcript of him lying to me in the study.

“Colleagues,” I say, even as a knife, “this is the psychological abuse and lies Raymond’s put me through for a year—to make me mess up like this.”

The room goes silent.

I don’t cry. I don’t yell. I just lay out the facts—like presenting lab data—exposing Raymond’s hypocrisy and Emma’s games.

Raymond’s face goes white. He jumps up “Rachel, what the hell are you doing? Turn it off!”

I just stand there, looking at him like he’s a specimen under a microscope.

“Professor Hale, you tried to break me. But you forgot—I’m a biologist. Give me a sample, and I can replicate your whole crime.”

This public take-down? It’s my first war declaration against him.