My Ex Forgot I Keep Backups

On Valentines Day, my ex-boyfriend, Kevin, cornered me in the most crowded dining hall on campus.

He was holding a microphone from the student radio station, declaring to the entire room:

Zoe, if you just agree to give us another chance, Ill withdraw my application for the Deans Fellowship.

The entire cafeteria erupted into cheers and whistles.

Beside him stood Delilah, his childhood best friend, her eyes red as she pleaded with me:

Zoe, Kevin is doing all of this for you. Please, stop being so dramatic.

From the crowd, whispers drifted over. Some called me cold-hearted. Some said I didnt know how good I had it. Others muttered that a girl like me deserved to be dumped anyway.

I simply smiled.

I reached for the glass of iced lemonade on my tray and threw it directly into Kevins face.

Using public resources to stage a tragedy, Kevin? I said, my voice cutting through the silence. Youre pathetic.

He thought I was just lashed out because he had backed me into a corner.

But he had no idea.

From the moment he and Delilah began plotting to steal my fellowship spot, I had already started digging his grave.

And the first shovel of dirt would fall next week, during our senior capstone presentations.

Today was Valentines Day.

The first floor of the campus student center was packed to the gills. I had just picked up my lunch tray and walked toward the seating area when a sudden roar of excitement erupted behind me.

Shes here, shes here!

Zoes here!

Make way, let the leading lady through!

I froze.

Before I could even register what was happening, the crowd parted automatically, forming a long path.

At the end of that path stood Kevin.

He was wearing a crisp white shirt, dark trousers, and his hair was meticulously styled. In his hand, he held a wireless microphone. At his feet lay a massive ring of red roses, inside of which sat a heart made of glowing tea lights.

Next to it was a chalkboard sign that read:

Zoe, let's start over.

Looking at those words, my stomach churned.

Start over?

Only two months ago, I had walked into the local indie theater and found him in the back row, holding Delilah in his arms. Delilah had been wearing the forest-green wool scarf I had spent three weeks knitting for him.

She had leaned against his shoulder, her voice soft and sweet:

Kevin, won't Zoe be upset if she finds out?

And what did Kevin say?

He had stroked her hair and murmured, Dont worry about her. Shell never leave me.

I hadnt made a scene that day. I simply took a photo of them, walked out, and texted him that we were over.

At first, Kevin acted like he didnt care.

Youll regret this, Zoe, hed warned me. Youre never going to find another guy who treats you the way I do.

I hadnt regretted it for a single second.

But it seemed he was starting to.

Our department had only one spot for the fully-funded Deans Fellowship this yeara direct track to the university's prestigious graduate program. When our cumulative GPA rankings came out, Kevin and I were tied for first place. The final decision would come down to the senior capstone project presentations next week.

Delilah was ranked third.

If either Kevin or I dropped out of the running, the runner-up spot would automatically go to her.

This grand gesture wasnt an act of devotion.

It was a setup.

Kevin raised the microphone, his eyes glistening with rehearsed emotion.

Zoe, these past two months apart have been a nightmare. I haven't slept. I know I made mistakes, but I truly can't imagine my life without you.

The crowd went wild.

Oh my god, hes so romantic!

What is she waiting for? Say yes!

Kevin took a step forward, pulling a folded piece of paper from a leather portfolio. I recognized the official department letterhead.

It was a Voluntary Withdrawal Form for the fellowship.

He held it up for everyone to see.

If you take me back, Ill sign this right now. I dont care about the fellowship. I only care about you.

The cafeteria erupted. People were clapping, cheering, and recording videos to post on their socials.

Giving up a full-ride fellowship for love? Kevin is a literal prince!

If Zoe rejects him now, shes just being heartless.

I stood in the center of the room, pinned to the floor by hundreds of staring eyes, like a criminal on trial.

Kevin looked at me, a subtle gleam of triumph in his eyes. He was certain I would be swept up by the romance, or at least too afraid of the public pressure to humiliate him.

He knew the old me too well.

During our two years together, I had always protected his ego. When he was late, I told him it was fine. When he forgot our anniversary, I blamed it on his heavy workload. When he spent hours alone with Delilah, I told myself I trusted him.

But a person can only be a fool for so long. Once was enough.

Just then, Delilah stepped out from behind him. She was wearing a delicate white sundress, her eyes rimmed with red, looking like the victim of some grand tragedy.

She walked over to me, her voice trembling.

Zoe, please dont hold a grudge against Kevin. Hes been in so much pain lately. If youre refusing to forgive him because of me, Ill apologize. I'll do whatever it takes.

A tear slipped down her cheek.

Im so sorry. I promise Ill keep my distance from him from now on. Just please, stop torturing him like this.

It was a masterful performance. The moment she spoke, the whispers around us shifted, growing sharper, uglier.

Zoe is being so cold.

Even the friend apologized, and shes still standing there with that look on her face.

Is she just stringing him along because she likes the power trip?

Kevin didnt stop Delilah. He just watched me, the faint twitch of a smirk touching the corner of his mouth.

In that moment, his entire plan became crystal clear.

He wasnt here to beg for my forgiveness; he was here to force me to submit.

If I accepted, he won. He could occupy the moral high ground, regain control over our relationship, and eventually manipulate me into stepping down from the fellowship anyway.

If I rejected him, he still won. He would use the court of public opinion to paint me as a ruthless, ungrateful villain, making it impossible for me to survive the department's review process.

No matter what, he wanted to ensure I lost.

I looked at him, and suddenly, I laughed.

Kevins eyes lit up, thinking I was softening. He opened his arms, his voice dropping into a deeper, tender register.

Zoe. Come back to me. Im so sorry.

I set my lunch tray down on a nearby table, picked up the tall plastic cup of iced lemonade, and before he could react, I threw the contents straight into his face.

The sticky, ice-cold liquid drenched his hair and ran down his neck. A slice of lemon clung to his collar.

The entire cafeteria went dead silent.

The mask of devotion on Kevins face shattered instantly. He wiped the liquid from his eyes, his chest heaving as he roared, Zoe! Are you insane?

I took the microphone from his hand. My voice wasn't loud, but in the quiet of the hall, it carried perfectly.

First of all, we broke up two months ago. I am not interested in getting back together. Ever.

Second, the Deans Fellowship is an academic honor. It is not a prop for you to use in your pathetic romantic dramas. Staging this little show isn't noble, Kevin. It's desperate.

A collective gasp rippled through the room.

Delilahs face drained of color. Zoe, how can you say that? Kevin did this because he loves you

I turned my gaze to her.

Because he loves me? If he withdraws, you're third in line for the spot. If I walk away because of the drama, it goes straight to you. Tell me, Delilah, why are you crying? You should be throwing a party.

Delilah froze, her mouth slightly open.

Kevin went rigid.

Finally, some of the onlookers started putting the pieces together.

Wait, Delilah is third in the department?

So if Kevin drops out and Zoe gets distracted, Delilah gets the funding?

Holy shit. Is this a setup?

Delilahs tears fell faster. No! Thats not true! I never wanted to take anyones spot! Zoe, why do you always assume the worst of me?

Before she could finish her sentence, a stern, authoritative voice boomed from the back of the crowd.

What is going on here?

The students parted to reveal Professor Harris, our department head. His face was dark. He was notorious for his strict academic standards and his absolute disdain for students who treated their studies like a game.

He had clearly heard enough.

Kevin panicked. Professor Harris, I was just

Just what? Professor Harris cut him off, his voice like ice. Using a graduate fellowship as a bargaining chip for your love life? Kevin, what do you think this universitys academic standards are? A playground?

Kevin's face was white.

I didn't give him a chance to recover. I stepped forward and bowed slightly to the professor.

Professor Harris, since things have escalated to this point, I have a proposal. To ensure complete fairness, I suggest we make the capstone defense next week entirely transparent. Let the entire faculty panel grade us live, and let the highest score take the fellowship. No one has to withdraw, and no one gets to play the martyr.

Professor Harris was silent for a moment, then nodded slowly.

Fine. Next Friday, a public defense. Everyone speaks with their work.

I looked back at Kevin. His jaw was clenched so hard the muscles in his cheek twitched. Delilahs fingers were white from clutching the fabric of her skirt.

Their first move had failed.

But at ten o'clock that night, my roommate, Grace, kicked our dorm door open and shoved her phone in my face.

Zoe, look at the campus forum. Kevin is dragging you through the mud.

By midnight, the campus forum had completely caught fire.

An anonymous post had been pinned to the top of the homepage.

The title read: Exposing the cold-blooded genius who threw ice water on the campus golden boy on Valentine's Day.

The post was written with dramatic flair, painting Kevin as a tragic romantic who had offered to sacrifice his entire future for me, only to be publicly humiliated. It claimed I had used him for support throughout our relationship, only to discard him the moment I didn't need him anymore. It even suggested that my call for a public defense was because I had already bribed the faculty.

It was so absurd I wanted to laugh.

But the comments underneath were filled with genuine, vitriolic anger.

Zoe looks so innocent, but shes actually a sociopath.

Who cares if shes smart? Her character is trash.

People like her shouldnt get fellowships. They ruin academic departments.

She was the one who suggested the public defense. I bet she already has the professors in her pocket.

Our class group chat wasn't quiet either. Kevins roommate was the first to speak up.

@Zoe, you went way too far today. Kevin was willing to give up his career for you, and you poured ice water on his head? Youre cold.

Delilahs roommate immediately chimed in:

Some people think they can treat others like garbage just because they have a high GPA. Delilah has been crying all night, and she did absolutely nothing wrong. Zoe, you owe her an apology.

I stared at the screen, my fingers hovering over the keyboard. Before I could type a single word, Grace snatched the phone from my hand.

Dont waste your breath, Zoe, she said, her eyes flashing. Let me handle this.

Within seconds, she fired off a dozen messages in the group chat.

Kevin is a romantic? Is that what were calling a guy who cheats on his girlfriend with his childhood best friend?

Is it romantic that while Zoe was running a hundred-and-four-degree fever, Kevin claimed he was stuck in the lab, only to go see a movie with Delilah?

Is it romantic that he took the green scarf Zoe spent weeks knitting for him and gave it to Delilah?

The chat went silent for a few seconds.

Then, Grace dropped the bomb: a photo of Kevin and Delilah sitting in the back row of the movie theater, his arm wrapped tightly around her waist as she fed him popcorn.

The chat exploded.

Kevins roommate tried to salvage the situation:

So what? Friends cant go to the movies together?

Grace fired back:

To a theater's love seats? Feeding each other popcorn? Wearing his girlfriends hand-knit scarf? Is everyone in your dorm room lacking a mirror, or just lacking a brain?

I couldnt help but chuckle. Grace never needed a script to dismantle someone.

Kevin finally appeared in the chat.

Grace, dont make this uglier than it needs to be. Whatever issues Zoe and I have, well resolve them privately.

Grace replied:

Oh, now you want privacy? You didnt care about privacy when you set your online mob on her. Now that youre caught, you want to act dignified? Kevin, youre a joke.

Nobody else in the chat said a word.

But the storm on the campus forum didn't stop. The next morning, a new anonymous thread appeared.

The headline was even more malicious: Why is Zoe so desperate for a public defense? Whats the real nature of her relationship with a certain professor?

There were no facts, only insinuations. It implied that my academic record was manufactured, and that Professor Harris and I had a personal connection that would guarantee my win.

Grace looked ready to throw her laptop through the window. Are these people out of their minds?

I stared at the screen, tracing the usernames of the most active commenters. They all had similar registration dates and posted with identical phrasingdefending Kevin, attacking me, pretending to be objective bystanders while steering the narrative.

It was a coordinated effort.

What are you looking at? Grace asked, leaning over.

I took screenshots of everything and saved them to an encrypted folder. Im looking at them digging their own graves.

Grace blinked. You already have a plan, dont you?

I opened the project directory on my computer, revealing the final architecture of our machine learning model. Im not planning. Im just waiting for them to take the bait.

For the next four days, Grace and I practically lived in the computer science lab.

Our capstone project was an AI-driven predictive analytics model for regional healthcare logistics. It was a highly complex codebase, but if we could get the optimization algorithm to run smoothly, the results would be undeniable.

Every night at 2:00 AM, the lab was pitch black except for the glow of our monitors. Grace sat slumped over a bag of potato chips, staring at the endless lines of Python code.

I feel like these brackets are staring back at me and calling me stupid, she groaned.

I kept typing. What exactly are they saying?

Theyre asking why I havent crawled into bed yet.

I smiled. Two more days, Grace. Just hang in there.

She put her head on the desk. When you get this fellowship, youre buying me dinner. Five times.

Deal.

Despite our joking, we both knew what was at stake. This wasn't just about beating Kevin anymore. It was about our work. It was about the endless nights wed spent debugging, the spreadsheets of data wed meticulously cleaned, and the simple fact that we refused to let someone ride our coattails or destroy our future.

Kevin had been quiet. He didnt try to corner me in the halls, and he stayed out of the group chats. But whenever we crossed paths in the department building, his gaze was dark and venomous.

On Wednesday afternoon, I went to the printing room to grab some physical reference sheets. As I pushed the door open slightly, I heard voices from inside.

It was Delilah, her voice thick with unshed tears.

Kevin, Im scared. If Zoe wins the presentation, Ill lose my chance at the graduate program entirely.

There was a long silence.

Then Kevin spoke. She won't win.

But her model is so much faster than ours, Delilah whispered. How are we supposed to beat her?

Kevins voice dropped, cold and sharp. We don't have to beat her. We just have to make sure she has nothing to present.

My hand froze on the doorknob. Behind me, Graces eyes went wide. I made a sharp gesture for her to stay quiet.

Inside, Delilah sounded startled. What do you mean?

Kevin let out a dry, humorless laugh. Zoes a creature of habit. Shes used the same password combination for everything since freshman yearher birthday followed by her initials. I checked. She never changed her access credentials for the departments shared project server.

Delilahs voice was barely a whisper. Isnt that... too risky?

If she walks onto that stage on Friday with empty hands, the fellowship is mine, Kevin said. Once I have the funding secured, Ill work out a way to transfer the research assistantship to you. Delilah, don't you want this?

A pause.

Then, Delilah murmured, Youre the only one who truly cares about me, Kevin.

I almost laughed out loud. They truly were made for each otherone malicious, the other entirely spineless.

Grace looked ready to charge through the door, but I grabbed her wrist and pulled her back into the hallway.

Did you hear that? she hissed once we were out of earshot. Hes going to delete our repository!

I nodded. I heard.

So what do we do? Change the passwords right now?

I looked back at the heavy wooden door of the printing room. No. Let him do it.

Grace stared at me like I had lost my mind. Are you crazy?

If he doesn't do it, I said softly, how can we ensure he gets caught?

Right then, my phone buzzed in my pocket. A notification from my cloud dashboard popped up:

Multi-factor authentication bypass detected. Server monitoring active.

I looked at the screen and smiled.

Hes taking the bait. Now, we let him play his hand.