My Boyfriend Bought His Mistress Gifts With My Money

Emerson showed up at Neriah's dorm just before midnight. He didn't text first. He just knocked.

She opened the door in sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. Her hair was tied back. Her eyes were red. She looked at him for a long moment, then stepped aside.

"Come in."

The room was small. Twin bed. Desk cluttered with textbooks. A mini-fridge humming in the corner. The kind of space that cost three thousand dollars a semester and felt like a closet. Without the scholarship, she couldn't afford it. Without Aurelia's apartment, Emerson couldn't afford anywhere.

He sat on the edge of the bed. She stayed standing.

"So," Neriah said. "We're done."

"We're not done. We just need to—"

"We're done, Emerson." Her voice was flat. "She cut my funding. She kicked you out. She knows everything. We have nothing."

He looked at his hands. "I had sixty-three dollars in my account. The Uber to get here cost forty-two."

Neriah laughed. It was a short, bitter sound. "Twenty-one dollars. That's what we're working with."

"I can get a job. I can—"

"Doing what?" She crossed her arms. "You've been living off her for two years. You don't even have a resume."

He stood up. "Don't act like you're better than me. You were living off her too."

"I was on a scholarship. That's different."

"Is it?"

She stared at him. Then she turned away and sat at the desk. She opened her laptop. The financial aid email was still pulled up on the screen.

"We can't just sit here," she said quietly.

"What do you want to do? Beg? Apologize?" He shook his head. "She's not going to forgive us. You didn't see her face. She was done before I even walked in."

Neriah didn't answer right away. She scrolled through something on her laptop. Then she stopped.

"The keynote," she said.

"What?"

"The annual keynote. It's in nine days. Students, faculty, alumni, donors. Local media. Everyone who matters will be there." She turned to face him. "Including her."

Emerson frowned. "So?"

"So we make her the story." Neriah leaned back in her chair. "We go public. We tell everyone what she really is."

"What she really is?"

"A predator." Neriah's voice was calm now. Steady. "Think about it. She's the chairman's... what? Mistress? Sugar baby? Some kind of kept woman trading favors for power. That's the only way someone her age gets a CEO position and a penthouse apartment. And when I got too close to the truth, when I started asking questions, she pulled my funding to shut me up."

Emerson stared at her. "That's not—"

"It doesn't matter what's true." Neriah stood up. "It matters what people believe. And people love a scandal. Especially when it's about a powerful man and a young woman. #MeToo. Institutional abuse. Silencing victims. It writes itself."

"She'll deny it."

"Of course she will. But by then, the story's out. The media will run with it. The university will have to investigate. Even if they clear her eventually, the damage is done. Her reputation. Her company. Her perfect little life." Neriah smiled. It didn't reach her eyes. "She took everything from us. We take everything from her."

Emerson sat back down. His hands were shaking. "You want to destroy her."

"I want to survive." Neriah walked over and crouched in front of him. "Listen to me. We have nine days. Nine days before we're both out on the street with nothing. No money. No connections. No future. She made sure of that. So we use the one thing we have left."

"What's that?"

"A microphone and an audience."

Emerson looked at her. Really looked at her. The red eyes were gone now. Her jaw was set. She looked like someone who had already made the decision and was just waiting for him to catch up.

"What do you need me to do?" he asked.

Neriah stood. "The keynote has an open forum. Anyone can take the mic and ask a question. I'll go up. I'll tell my story. Poor scholarship student. Noticed something wrong. Started asking questions. Got my funding pulled as punishment. I'll cry. I'll shake. I'll make it real."

"And me?"

"You sit in the audience. When I'm done, you stand up. You say you've seen her with the chairman. Late nights. Private meetings. You corroborate. You make it bigger than just me."

Emerson swallowed. "What if it doesn't work?"

"Then we're exactly where we are now. Broke. Finished. Nothing to lose." She crossed her arms. "But if it works, she goes down. And maybe, just maybe, we get our lives back."

He didn't answer right away. He thought about the boxes on the curb. The note on top. Uber's on you this time. He thought about Aurelia's face when she opened the door. The way she looked at him like he was already gone.

"Okay," he said.

Neriah nodded. "Good."

She sat back down at her laptop and opened a new document.

"We have nine days to write this," she said. "So let's make it count."

Emerson watched her type. Her fingers moved fast. Confident. Like she had been planning this for longer than the last hour.

Maybe she had.

He looked at the window. The campus was dark outside. Quiet.

In nine days, it wouldn't be.