My father ended the call.
When he told me what had happened, I felt a strange mixture of gratitude and sadness.
Aaron had never spoken to my father that way before.
He had once sought my father’s advice about a business negotiation. He had once helped my mother carry groceries from her car without being asked. He had once spent an entire afternoon repairing a loose step on their porch because my father had trouble bending his knee.
I remembered those moments.
I did not need to pretend they had never happened.
But good memories could not erase what was happening now.
And they could not obligate me to remain married to the person Aaron had become.
At 2:00 p.m., the Prescott Global board convened an emergency meeting.
I wasn’t there.
I had no reason to attend, and I had no desire to turn my private life into a corporate performance.
But I knew enough about the company to understand why the board was concerned.
Prescott Global was not a small family business anymore. It managed a network of logistics, commercial property, and technology investments across several regions.
Aaron was its chief executive.
His father, Richard Prescott, remained chairman emeritus and held considerable influence among the older shareholders.
The company had a reputation to protect.
The board’s first concern was not whether Aaron had been a faithful husband.
It was whether the CEO’s personal conduct had created a conflict of interest, reputational risk, or inappropriate use of corporate resources.
That distinction would become important.
During the meeting, the board chair, Margaret Ellis, asked Aaron directly whether his relationship with Jasmine Cole had affected any business decisions.
Aaron denied any improper conduct.
“Jasmine is a senior employee,” he said. “She works closely with me. Any suggestion that her professional position is inappropriate is baseless.”
Margaret folded her hands.
“No one has reached a conclusion. We are asking whether there are records we need to preserve.”
“Records of what?”
“Travel expenses, reimbursements, relevant communications, and any decisions concerning Ms. Cole’s compensation or promotion.”
Aaron’s jaw tightened.
“Are you investigating me because my wife sent a message on Slack?”
“We are responding to a public concern involving the company’s chief executive and an employee. We would be negligent if we ignored it.”
“Claire has no role here.”
“That’s not entirely accurate.”
The board secretary opened another document.
“Mrs. Prescott holds no executive position at Prescott Global. However, her attorney has identified potential issues involving company records and requests that relevant materials be preserved. We have an obligation to take that seriously.”
Aaron looked around the table.
Several directors avoided his eyes.
Others watched him closely.
He had spent years cultivating the belief that Prescott Global was an extension of his authority.
He had forgotten that the board was not his personal staff.
Margaret continued.
“We are not asking you to resign. We are asking for cooperation with an independent review.”
“And Jasmine?”
“She will be interviewed separately.”
Aaron’s voice turned cold.
“She has done nothing wrong.”
“Then the review should establish that.”
For the first time, Aaron appeared to understand that he could not simply order the problem to disappear.
The meeting ended without a public statement.
But the board’s decision to preserve records meant that any relevant evidence would have to be handled through formal procedures.
And Aaron could no longer assume that his position would protect him from scrutiny.
That evening, Jasmine arrived at Aaron’s apartment.
He had gone home alone for the first time in months.
The lights were off.
His suitcases remained where Claire had left them that morning, stacked near the entrance after the receptionist arranged for them to be delivered to his office.
Jasmine stood in the doorway of the living room.
“You haven’t answered my messages.”
“I’ve been in meetings.”
“I know. Everyone knows.”
Aaron poured himself a drink.
Jasmine watched him.
“Is Claire really divorcing you?”
“Yes.”
“Because of me?”
He turned toward her.
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
The words landed harder than he intended.
Jasmine’s expression changed.
For three years, she had learned to interpret Aaron’s silences, anticipate his moods, and recognize the rare moments when he wanted someone to tell him he was right.
She had believed she understood him.
She had also believed that, eventually, he would leave his wife.
Not because he had promised it directly.
Because of the way he spoke about Claire.
He described her as old-fashioned, overly sensitive, and uninterested in his work. He said they had grown apart. He said their marriage had become a formality.
He never mentioned the quiet sacrifices Claire had made to accommodate his ambitions.
He never mentioned the nights she had waited for him.
He never mentioned that he had once told her he could not imagine a future without her.
Jasmine had accepted the version of the marriage that benefited her.
Now, for the first time, she was uncertain.
“What happens now?” she asked.
Aaron set down his glass.
“Nothing happens. Claire will calm down.”
“She sent a message to the entire company.”
“She wanted attention.”
“Then why did the board call an emergency meeting?”
He looked at her sharply.
“Because people enjoy drama.”
Jasmine hesitated.
“Did you tell them about us?”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
She stared at him.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Jasmine asked the question she had been avoiding for months.
“Are you going to marry me?”
Aaron’s face hardened.
“Is that what this is about?”
“I’m asking you a question.”
“Not tonight.”
“You’ve been saying that for a year.”
He turned away.
“Jasmine, I have a company to run. My wife has decided to turn our private problems into public theater. My father is calling me every twenty minutes. The board is treating me like a criminal. And you’re asking me about marriage?”
Her eyes filled, but she did not cry.
“You told me your marriage was over.”
“It was.”
“Then why does it bother you so much that she’s leaving?”
