My Boyfriend Cheated With His Student, I Left

Lucky for me, the blast wasn't strong.

Just surface burns. A few days in the hospital and I would be fine.

The launch event for the anti-cancer drug I had led was in three days. Lisa told me to rest.

"No, I'm going," I said. There was nothing soft in my voice. "Every drug I've made is one of my kids. I'm going to be there when this one is born."

Three days later, the venue was packed with press.

Marcus and Claire were seated dead center.

I had never liked the spotlight, so I took a seat further back.

Marcus sat in the middle. Claire sat next to him, smiling into every camera.

I thought about the first year he had been at the university, the two of us in the dining hall. Every time, he had scooped the better portion onto my tray and then pretended to check his phone, as if he hadn't.

The MC started the program.

The drug had been in the final stage of development when Marcus had begged to join. He said he wanted to contribute to science. He said he didn't even need his name on the paper.

I was moved by it, so I agreed to bring him on. And Claire.

The MC began the introduction.

When he said, "Now I'd like to invite the lead developer to the stage," I straightened my blouse and stood up.

Then he said, "Please join me in welcoming Claire." I froze on my feet.

Every head turned toward me.

"It looks like Dr. Sinclair is just so happy for Claire she couldn't help but stand up to applaud," the MC said, laughing it off.

I jerked my head toward the screen.

Behind the words "Lead Developer," in big letters, was Claire's name.

"That's impossible."

"I led that research! Claire and Marcus only came in at the end." My voice cracked.

"Dr. Sinclair, do you have any evidence?" a reporter called out.

I went up on stage and pulled up the paper and the patent records on the venue laptop.

I stared at the screen. Claire's name. On all of it.

I went cold, and I looked down at Marcus — he knew.

To celebrate the drug, I had scheduled the paper submission and the patent filing for the same day.

The school had an urgent meeting that morning, and Marcus had shown up at the lab to drop off lunch.

He had offered to handle the submissions himself.

There weren't that many coincidences. Every single one of them had been planned.

Claire stood up, her voice trembling. "Dr. Sinclair, I know you have a lot of patents and you're incredibly accomplished. But this drug, I developed this. Everyone can see. My name is on the paper. My name is on the patent."

She paused as if she were steeling herself.

"Even though… even though you're my advisor and I have so much respect for you, I can't give this one up."

Marcus came up on stage and bent close to me, his voice low.

"Evelyn, stop. You already have so many patents. You don't need this one. Claire needs this for her doctoral application. I'll make it up to you."

I shook my head and looked at him, asking without saying anything.

I still wanted to believe he would stand with me, just this once.

He stepped back. Something flickered in his eyes. His mouth moved. Then everything closed.

"I will stake my professional reputation on this," he said to the room. "The primary work behind this research was done by Claire. I can tell you with full responsibility that Claire is an exceptional pharmaceutical researcher."

I looked at him like I had never seen him before.

He knew what I had put into this. The nights. The missed weekends. He knew exactly what an accusation of academic fraud would do to me.

Claire made a small sobbing sound. "Dr. Sinclair, it's okay. You just took a wrong turn. I won't hold it against you."

The room started buzzing.

"I thought Dr. Sinclair was supposed to be brilliant. How does she end up doing something like this?"

"She always seemed so straight-edge. Goes to show."

"She's run out of ideas, I guess. It happens."

Press swarmed me. Microphones came in like spears.

"Dr. Sinclair, can you respond?"

"Dr. Sinclair, are we now questioning your previous research too?"

"Dr. Sinclair, do you have anything that can clear your name?"

"Dr. Sinclair, please."

Their voices crashed in on me. I went pale, and my head emptied out.

It was the first time in my life I had no way to defend myself.

The burn on my back pulled at me, and I couldn't stand straight.

The doors slammed open.

Security came in like a wave, peeling the reporters off me one at a time.

Someone in the room recognized him and stood up.

"Mr. Sterling."

"That's Mr. Sterling."

An arm came around me. Warm and solid.

A voice over my head, gentle.

"It's okay, Evelyn. I'm here."

"I'm sorry. I'm late."