He slammed the door and stormed out.

Ha! Irrational.

But back then, he'd told me my fierce, confident mind showed him a world he never knew existed.

The clash between our two different worlds had once electrified him, making him feel more alive than ever.

In college, I was the resident wizard of the computer science department, while he was a literature Ph.D. student drowning in his dissertation.

Julian, a man with the soul of a brooding poet, fell for me at first sight—this woman who moved like a force of nature through the world of code.

"Your mind is as intense as your field of study."

"Oh? You saw my major and pictured a bookworm, didn't you?"

"Turns out I'm a tech nerd. Sorry to disappoint, Mr. Scholar."

He shook his head, flustered.

"No, not at all. I think you're... captivating. Like a goddess who builds new worlds."

"I've... I've never met anyone with a mind like yours."

After he said it, he ducked his head, his ears burning red.

"Well, now you have. You'll survive."

I turned to leave, but his urgent voice stopped me.

"Excuse me, can I buy you a coffee?"

"Sure."

He wasn't a smooth talker, and I didn't think much of it.

We had little contact after that.

Later, his doctoral dissertation hit a wall, stalled on a critical data model.

Just one look at him, and you could see he was utterly lost.

Since he'd called me a goddess, and I happened to find him at his wit's end, it only seemed right to step in.

"Hey. There's a logic flaw in your model."

"Let me see."

Julian had already been preparing to delay his graduation.

When he saw me offer to help, his eyes lit up with desperation.

"Evelyn! You don't have to. This is a real mess."

I shot him a look.

"That's a terrible way to cheer me on."

I pulled a few all-nighters and rebuilt the model for him from the ground up.

It was complex, but nothing I couldn't handle.

I even optimized his entire data processing flow for good measure.

Julian looked at me with pure adoration, calling me his "savior."

Later, he claimed the only way to repay my life-saving favor was to dedicate his life to me.

After graduation, I went to Silicon Valley and launched a startup.

He continued his climb up the academic ladder, eventually becoming an associate professor.

I covered most of our expenses during that time.

He came from a poor Rust Belt family and had reached a height most could only dream of.

In his decaying hometown, he was the pride of the entire community.

His parents, lifelong factory workers, became the envy of everyone they knew.

He said I was the light of his life.

Our lives improved steadily. We moved into bigger houses, and we had our daughter.

To take care of her, I sold my company shares and retired early.

I devoted myself to running our home.

And now, he was starting to despise me for it.

I didn't know how far things had gone between him and this new woman, but my guess was they were still in the hazy, flirtatious stage.

Without proof, there was nothing I could do. For now.

But I had money and I had time. I could afford to play the long game.

Julian was still impeccably dressed—his hair, his shirt, not a single wrinkle in sight.

He carried no scent that wasn't from our home.

He was still the same Professor Julian, devoted to his academic pursuits.

Except now, the kitchen was his to clean after dinner.

It was another perfectly ordinary day. I needed to look up some information for an investment project.

After firing off some emails in the study, I was about to leave.

Then, a bookmark in a folder on his open laptop screen caught my eye. It seemed out of place.

A cold premonition pulled me closer.

It was a bookmark titled "Aria Under the Moonlight."

Why would he have something like this?

I clicked it. The page jumped to a private, password-protected blog.

The password hint was: "The poet we discussed when we first met."

My hand trembled as I typed in the poet's name.

The blog opened. The title of the very first post—"To my love, Aria"—plunged me into an icy abyss.

The blog was a collection of posts written by Julian to a woman he called Aria. Her real name was Clara.

The pages were filled with his disappointment in our marriage and his boundless worship of her.

"You are the galaxy, and I am a lonely star, yearning to be illuminated by your light."

"Julian, your class enchants me."

"In the world you build, I feel a freedom I have never known."

...

"Today, your beauty made my heart tremble."

"Please enter my dreams tonight, that we might share the ecstasy of our souls."

...

"My Aria is so perfect. Even if I cannot possess your body, having your heart is the greatest gift heaven has bestowed upon me."

"My flesh is already stained by the mundane world; I cannot bear to profane your snow-like purity."

"You are a star in the heavens. I only wish to protect you for eternity, to keep that star from being covered in dust."

"Julian, how I wish I could wake up every day and see you."

"In my dreams, you and I were married three years ago."

"We have an adorable child, as pure and perfect as ice and snow."

"But when I pull myself from that fantasy and remember I belong to someone else, that I am someone else's father..."

"Do you know how it feels, like a knife twisting in my heart?"

"Perhaps my life has been too smooth, and this is heaven's punishment."

"But I have no regrets, no fears. Even if I were to lose my reputation for you, I would not hesitate."

...

"Today in class, my fingertips accidentally brushed yours, and my heart wouldn't stop pounding."

"I'm so envious of her, that she can have all of you. For me, even holding your hand is an extravagant dream."

"How can a speck of dust compare to the brilliance of a star? She could never compare to you."

I read all two hundred posts. The dense, cloying text was a vortex, pulling me down into their twisted little world.

I never imagined I’d stumble into their sickening fantasy like this.

I clapped a hand over my mouth and rushed to the bathroom, vomiting until my throat was raw.

Disgusting. Utterly, fucking disgusting.