He Stole My Job, I Took Back My Life

Chapter 3

I had left in such a hurry that I hadn't had time to find a place of my own, so I checked into a hotel for the night.

The next day was Saturday.

I spent the entire day in my room, polishing my resume and sending out job applications.

In my previous life, I had foolishly waited for Steven to secure me a position at Weston University. Later, he convinced me to accept a teaching assignment in a remote rural district for three years, promising he'd bring me back afterward.

I had believed him without question.

Never again.

This time, I would never entrust my future to anyone else.

My life belonged to me.

While browsing job listings, I came across an opening for an archaeological expedition heading to the American Southwest. They were recruiting applicants with an archaeology background.

On impulse, I submitted my resume.

That evening, while eating dinner, I glanced at my phone and saw that Francine had uploaded a new i********: post.

Curious, I tapped on it.

There were nine photos.

Only two were scenic shots.

The rest featured her and Steven.

One showed them smiling together beneath the iconic entrance arch of Weston University. Another captured their silhouettes beside the campus lake where couples loved to stroll. There was even a picture of them having dinner, with Steven's hand intentionally left in the frame.

Thanks to Steven, I finally got to clear my head. A dream I've chased for years is finally within reach. Weston University, here I come!

Reading her smug little performance, I calmly tapped the Like button.

Less than ten minutes later, my phone rang.

Steven.

I silenced the call and went back to watching television.

About half an hour later, someone rang my hotel doorbell.

When I opened the door, Steven was standing there, slightly out of breath, holding a cake box.

"What are you doing here?" I asked. "Did you come to celebrate our divorce?"

His eyes widened in alarm. "Megan, don't say things like that. I was worried you wouldn't be comfortable staying in a hotel, so I came to check on you. Didn't you say a while back that you wanted cake?"

I nearly laughed.

I'd mentioned craving cake over a month ago.

He had ignored it then.

Now he remembered.

"I don't want it anymore," I said flatly.

As I started closing the door, he reached out and caught it with one hand.

"Megan, I'm sorry. Please don't be angry. Today, Francine wanted to see Weston University before she starts working there, so I took her. It wasn't a special trip just for her."

The excuse was laughable.

Francine's father and mother had been a professor at Weston for years.

There was no way she'd never visited the campus before.

Either Steven was gullible enough to believe such an obvious lie...

Or he knew perfectly well it was a lie and simply didn't care.

I looked him straight in the eye. "Steven, we're divorced. Why are you explaining any of this to me? You're about to marry another woman, yet here you are standing outside my hotel room at night. If someone sees you, imagine the rumors they'll start."

His expression immediately darkened.

Panic flickered across his face.

"Megan, this is only temporary. It's just a formality. You're the only woman I love. I came because I didn't want you to misunderstand."

"A formality?" I held up my left hand. "Our divorce is legally binding. As far as the law is concerned, we're strangers."

He froze.

"But... we—"

I cut him off before he could finish.

"Fine. I'll take the cake. Now go home, and don't come back. I'm doing just fine."

He couldn't bear to let go of our marriage.

At the same time, he refused to give up whatever was happening with Francine.

He honestly believed he could keep both.

If he couldn't choose, then I'd make the decision for him.

I took the cake from his hands and closed the door.

He called my name several more times from the hallway.

When I didn't answer, his footsteps eventually faded away.

I placed the cake on the table and snapped a quick picture.

Then I carried it downstairs and gave it to the hotel staff.

After returning to my room, I opened my phone and uploaded a new i********: post.

I adjusted the privacy settings so that only Francine could see the caption.

Sometimes, the smallest things you say end up meaning the most to someone else.

She wanted to provoke me?

Fine.

Let's see who got under whose skin first.