Chapter 3One Point Short of Love
About 6,242 characters (~1,086 words) — this is Chapter 3, one of 4 free chapters on EditWrx Reads.
I stood on the icy steps outside, dialing the number of my former mentor, Professor Thomas.
"Professor, about the reinstatement evaluation you mentioned last time, is that offer still on the table?"
A heavy silence lingered over the line for a long moment.
"Scott, didn't you personally send an email saying your physical and mental health weren't fit for the job, telling me never to reach out to you again?"
I froze. "I never said that."
Moments later, Professor Thomas forwarded the email to my inbox.
It was sent directly from my personal email address. Right beside the signature at the bottom was Hallie’s email signature.
When I confronted her, Hallie admitted it without a shred of hesitation.
"I had my assistant send it."
I slammed the printed email onto her desk. "What right do you have to turn down my work on my behalf?"
"We had just gotten married back then, and you were flying to a dozen countries every month. How could you have maintained our relationship with a job like that?"
"You were the one who said that if I resigned, you’d spend more time with me!"
She raised her eyes, looking at me coldly. "And I gave you the best lifestyle possible, didn't I?"
"Freezing my cards and taking my car keys is your idea of the best lifestyle?"
"That’s a punishment, not a lifestyle," she replied, as if it were the most logical thing in the world. "As long as you behave, those privileges will be restored immediately."
I stared at her, feeling a suffocating weight crush my chest.
It turned out that the care and devotion I thought we shared were nothing more than a reward she handed out to a top performer. The moment I refused to fall in line, she could strip it all away at a moment's notice.
Just then, Miles pushed the door open. Seeing us in the middle of a fight, his eyes immediately welled with tears.
"This is all my fault. I shouldn't have taken Scott's things." He quickly unclipped his employee badge and held out the project files. "I'll give up my position as department head, too, so you two don't have to fight because of me."
Hallie pushed the files straight back into his chest. "No one is taking your position."
She turned her gaze back to me. "Stop bringing your personal baggage into the workplace."
Without another word, I turned and walked straight out of the office.
That afternoon, I received a frantic call from the publishing house my late father used to work with.
"Mr. Wilson, the press launch for your father's manuscript was moved forward! Why aren't you here yet?"
By the time I rushed to the venue, Miles’ name was already projected in massive letters on the main screen.
"The Unbound Voice" was the final interpretation handbook my father had completed while gravely ill. Before he passed away, he handed me the manuscript, telling me to publish it only when I stood on the translation stage again.
Yet now, Miles was standing on stage, holding my father’s manuscript and telling the crowd it was an industry achievement he had led his team to compile.
Hallie sat in the very front row, her face completely calm.
I stormed onto the stage and yanked the microphone straight out of his hand. "This manuscript was left behind by my father! Every single page has his personal annotations. What right do you have to put your name on it?"
Whispers instantly erupted through the audience.
Hallie stood up, walked onto the stage, and effortlessly took the microphone from my grip. "Scott has been emotionally unstable recently. I will take full responsibility for today's disruption."
She gestured to the security guards to step up.
I clutched the heavy stack of manuscript pages tightly to my chest. "Hallie, this belongs to my father."
"The publisher already secured authorization."
"Authorized by who?!"
She didn't answer.
Miles leaned in, explaining in a quiet, fragile voice, "Hallie said she could make decisions on your behalf. Scott, I'm just the editor here. I would never try to steal your father's credit."
I flipped open the title page.
Though my father’s name was still there, my name, however, had been neatly cut away. Even the personal inscription he wrote for me, "May Scott always believe in his own voice", had been completely blotted out with heavy black ink.
I raised my hand, slapped Miles across the face, and chaos ensued.
Hallie grabbed my wrist in a crushing grip, violently pulling me away from Miles. "Have you lost your mind?"
I shoved the manuscript right in front of her eyes. "This is what my dad left for me!"
"Leaving it at home to collect dust is useless. Handing it to Miles ensures more people appreciate its value. That is the best possible outcome for it."
My eyes burned with unshed tears. "If it were your mother, would you still say that?"
Hallie’s expression darkened instantly.
"Don't bring the dead into this." She then forcefully snatched the manuscript out of my hands.
A sharp rip echoed through the air. The title page ripped straight down the middle, leaving only half of my father’s signature.
A violent, crushing spasm suddenly hit my stomach.
I grabbed the edge of the display table to keep my balance, cold sweat pouring down my spine.
Miles held his cheek, saying softly, "Scott really doesn't look well. Maybe we should pause the launch..."
Hallie glanced down at me, her eyes filled with nothing but cold disappointment. "He always knows how to ruin the mood at crucial moments."
She turned to the guards. "Security, take him away."
As I was dragged out of the venue, the polite sound of applause broke out once again behind me.
When I got home, I searched the study for the authorization papers for my father's manuscript, but my hands brushed against a black notebook instead.
Every single page was filled with Hallie’s precise handwriting.
[Comprehensive Evaluation for Potential Partners]
[Family Background: 85]
[Career Capability: 95]
[Emotional Stability: 76]
[Health Risk: 68]
On the final entry, my name was written.
[Scott: Overall score 89. Suitable candidate for marriage.]
And right above my name was a single line.
[Miles: Perfect score. Excluded from marriage evaluation.]
Footsteps echoed from the hallway outside.
Just as I slammed the notebook shut, a premarital assessment form slipped out from the inner pocket.
The date stamped at the top was the exact day before Hallie had proposed to me.