Natalie used to hate stuffed animals. Now she's head-over-heels for a cotton doll.

She called it "honey" and told our daughter, Yara, it was her real dad.

Cool. Guess that made me the family ghost.

At Yara's parent-teacher conference, I finally snapped and handed Natalie the divorce papers.

Cue the gasps. Suddenly, I'm the villain.

She slapped me—full drama mode.

"It's just a doll! Why are you being so extra?"

Yara hugged it like it was about to save the world, giving me the death stare.

I shrugged, smirking.

"You're the one who said it's your dream husband and Yara's one and only dad. So, like... why am I still here?"

Natalie Babcock's face went full tomato. "Luke Lambert, you're being TOTALLY unreasonable! You're divorcing me over some offhand comment?"

Offhand? I actually laughed.

"Just make sure you sign it. Once the cooling-off period's done, we're officially over." I turned and walked off.

The other parents looked around like 'huh?' Total confusion.

They had no clue what I was freaking out about.

I mean, before this mess, Natalie and I were the picture-perfect couple.

No matter how slammed we were, we always picked Yara up together.

Natalie just stood there, clutching the papers like she couldn't decide if she was pissed or shocked.

Pretty sure she didn't think I'd drop the bomb in front of a crowd.

Then her ride-or-die, Tanya Daley, stormed up and slapped me. Hard.

"Who hasn't played house with a doll?" she snapped. "You really had to go nuclear over this?"

She wasn't done. "Natalie makes the money, runs the house, and literally barfed her guts out to have your kid.

"You sit back, reap the perks, and now you're bailing? You're not just trash—you're BELOW trash."

I took a step back, but didn't get far.

Yara ran up and grabbed my leg, eyes watery. "Daddy, I'll be good, I promise. Just stop being mean to Mommy, okay? Don't make her cry again."

Because of her, I couldn't dodge—and Tanya's slap landed clean. My face lit up with heat.

I looked down at Yara. There was a flash—smugness, like she thought she won.

My face went cold. I pried her off and stepped back.

"I'm not your dad. Mr. Fluffy is."

She hit the floor and started wailing.

Natalie rushed over and scooped Yara up, her face all panicked. "Luke, no matter what, you can't lay a hand on her. Where's the calm, patient guy you used to be?"

She paused, voice softer. "Is something up with your research? Is that why you're acting like this?

"We're a team. We're supposed to have each other's backs. Whatever's going on, we'll get through it. Just... let's not talk divorce, okay?"

Natalie's sweet little speech had the moms around us getting misty-eyed. And then—boom—they turned on me.

"Lots of people play with dolls now. Some call 'em dad, some treat 'em like their kids. Why freak out over it?"

"Did Yara say 'again'? So you've been bullying Natalie this whole time? She should've dumped you—and now you're the one making drama?"

"Even if you don't care about Natalie, what about Yara? Kids from split homes get picked on. You seriously don't care?"

I kept my face blank, fists clenched.

"Not gonna sign? Fine. I'll file myself."

Tanya grabbed a pencil box and chucked it at me. "You're really ending your marriage over this? Yeah right—you're probably cheating! Natalie must've been blind to marry garbage like you!"

I was done.

"Cool. Believe whatever makes you feel better. Go ahead and pretend I'M the one who cheated."

***

Their eyes turned cold, full of disgust.

"Living off Natalie and then flipping the script? Gross."

"Looks all clean-cut, but he's trash underneath."

"Cheaters like you don't deserve to breathe!"

They swarmed me—nails out, all rage and no chill.

I don't hit women, and there were too many to dodge.

By the time they were done, my arms and neck were covered in bloody claw marks.

Natalie, crying, pushed through the crowd with Yara in her arms and stepped between us.

"Stop! Luke's not like that. There HAS to be some kind of misunderstanding!"

Yara was sobbing into Natalie's arms, but Natalie barely even hugged her back.

She was too busy playing defense, all soft-spoken like she was saving the day.

Then she turned to me with this fake brave smile. "Babe, just... say something, okay? Whatever it is, I'm here."

"If you're mad, I'll change. Let's not do the whole divorce thing, yeah?" Her voice was all shaky by the end.

She was laying it on thick—loyal wife, unbothered queen, totally clueless.

And me? I just stared at her like she was a stranger.

Next to her Oscar-worthy performance, I looked like the villain.

Of course the crowd ate it up.

Tanya looked like she couldn't help feeling exasperated by her blind love but kept it together.

Instead, she spun toward me, trying to play mediator. "Luke, it's Yara's parent-teacher meeting. Can't you chill—for her?"

I didn't flinch. My voice cut like glass. "She's not my kid. Why would I care? Move. I'm done here."

Tanya went full volcano, shaking with rage. "You're just some freeloading nobody! Without Natalie, you'd be nowhere!

"Your clothes, your lab, your funding—she gave you everything. Once she dumps you, you'll be out on your ass!"

People expected me to cave after that.

Yeah... no.

"If you're so ready to watch me crash, have her sign the damn papers."

I brushed past her and walked out.

Barely made it past the school gates when my phone buzzed—a drop from my PI.

Photos, videos, the whole package.

I opened the newest one.

It was from earlier that morning—Natalie and Yara at home.

Natalie was sprawled on the bed, all cuddled up with the doll, cheeks flushed, eyes glassy.

"Of course both parents have to go to the meeting," she whispered. "I'll dress your daddy up real nice for it."

Yara scrunched her nose. "What if that man shows up instead?"

Natalie frowned. "Then we don't tell him."

Yara giggled and flung herself into Natalie's arms, hugging both her and the damn doll. "Yay! I'll introduce my daddy to everyone!"

I shut the video.

Gross.

And more than enough to tip the scales in court.

***

Back at campus, one of my students came running.

"Prof. Lambert! Some people raided the lab. Took the gear—wiped out all our files."

Right then, Tanya called.

Her voice dripped smug. "Natalie might still have a soft spot for you, but I don't. Since you're so tough, don't expect another dime of her money."

I hung up. Blocked her.

Soft spot? Yeah, right. Natalie was the mastermind here.

She played innocent just enough to let Tanya do her dirty work.

She knew that project was everything to me. This wasn't random—it was revenge.

Even my own students started giving me that look.

Like this was my fault.

I brushed it off and called in a few favors—got some replacement gear fast.

Then I rolled up my sleeves and helped my students clean up the wreckage.

Didn't take long before the admin office called.

They were pissed.

Told me to get my personal mess under control and quit dragging the university through the mud.

My stomach dropped. I bolted outside to see the chaos for myself.

Even from a distance, I could hear Tanya's voice blasting through a megaphone.

"That Prof. Lambert? Total trash. Abandoned his wife and kid!

"He was a broke loser who married up and leeched off Natalie.

"Now he thinks he's hot stuff and wants to ditch her for some other woman!"

She wasn't alone—she'd brought a whole circus of influencers, all filming, all lying their faces off while marching across campus.

Half the student body had come out to gawk.

They pointed. Whispered.

"That's Prof. Lambert? Ugh. Straight-up gold digger."

"Divorcing her 'cause she's into dolls? Seriously? We like that stuff too—what's the big deal?"

"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.