Mr. Fluffy Took My Place

"So it's true—guys switch up the second they get money. How does our school even let someone like him teach?"

The influencers spotted me and swarmed like vultures, flinging the nastiest accusations like I'd committed some crime against humanity.

I frowned, about to lose it—

Then Natalie showed up, Yara in tow.

She stepped between Tanya and the crowd, all calm and sweet. "My husband's not like that. We're just having a little disagreement. It'll blow over soon."

She pulled Yara close, then slid her arm through mine like we were picture-perfect. "Right, honey?"

Once again, she nailed the loyal-wife act.

But behind that soft smile?

Pure poison. Cold, calculated, and terrifyingly good at it.

I shoved her off, disgusted. "Don't make me sick."

Natalie hit the ground, Yara still in her arms. Her elbow scraped against the pavement—blood started pooling, but all she did was stare at me, wide-eyed, like I'd just shattered her whole world.

Yara let out this piercing wail, crying like it was the end of everything.

The crowd lost it.

Students started yelling, calling me a monster, demanding the school fire me on the spot.

***

Natalie stood, steadying Yara, her voice trembling. "Honey, you really don't want us anymore?"

I kept my gaze icy. "You're the ones who walked away. Don't twist it."

Her face cracked. "I loved the wrong person... and dragged Yara down with me.

"If you want court, fine. Let everyone see the truth."

Yara's voice cut in. "You're awful! I hate you!"

Everybody swore I had it coming. They wanted blood.

Tanya's livestream? Gasoline on the fire. By night, I was trending—for all the wrong reasons.

Hate flooded in. My parents got dragged down with me.

Hometown folks popped up, swearing I'd pulled this stunt before.

One rumor said I knocked up a girl for tuition cash, then vanished.

Another had me juggling girlfriends till one almost killed herself.

The internet wanted me gone—permanently.

They spammed the school nonstop.

The university folded. I was out.

I kept my mouth shut through all of it.

Then the divorce trial hit.

My name was trashed so bad, no lawyer would touch me. I had to go in solo.

Natalie, hell-bent on finishing me off, pushed for a livestream.

The internet went wild, waiting to watch me crash in court.

Some even said I should be in prison.

Before the trial, Natalie kept the act going.

"Luke, I never wanted this, but you really let me and Yara down."

Tanya jumped in, all claws. "You think a doll's enough reason to bail on your wife and kid? You're gonna lose—forget about touching Natalie's money."

When court started, it went just like she said.

The judge decided her doll obsession wasn't divorce material.

Natalie slid in "proof" I was violent and neglectful.

The judge asked, "Plaintiff, any more evidence?"

Natalie shot me that smug, 'I've-won' smile.

She thought I was finished.

If the judge pinned me as at fault, I was done for.

These days, public opinion was a loaded gun.

I stood. "Yeah. I've got proof—emotional cheating, and the psychological abuse she and my own kid put me through."

Then I dropped the stack I'd been building for months.

Met her smug look with one of my own.

My turn.