“On the way here,” he began, “I saw this article about a med student named ‘Olivia Claire.’ Apparently, they published a groundbreaking paper that could create enormous value for the country. Funny enough, it’s in the same field as yours, late time.”
I didn’t respond. Olivia Claire was actually the pseudonym I used to publish my paper—a precaution my professor had insisted on for security reasons.
Before Vincent could press further, Zoe turned in her seat, her voice dripping with sweetness.
“Claire, you’ve been studying for so many years, but I haven’t heard about you achieving anything big like that.” She gasped, covering her mouth theatrically. “Oh no! I didn’t mean it like that. I just say things bluntly—no offense!”
Even Vincent’s gaze turned disdainful.
“Claire,” he said, his tone patronizing, “sometimes you have to accept that there’s a difference between people. You’ve been running yourself ragged for years, but it’s just aimless effort. After the wedding, why don’t you be a full-time housewife? I’ve reached a point in my career where you don’t need to work anymore.”