He won’t want to lose us.
Right.
Matthew
“What the fuck did you do?”
I look up from the tender contracts I’ve been reviewing, my pen still in my hand, as Dan storms into my office. His face is red, his tie askew, and he’s breathing like he just ran up ten flights of stairs.
I stay seated, waiting for him to use his words like a grown man.
He slams a stack of papers onto my desk so hard the pen rolls off. I glance down, press releases and billboard mock-ups for the discount campaign I signed off on last week.
“What,” I say flatly.
Dan grits his teeth, his jaw twitching. “It was supposed to be fromLove Field,you idiot.”
I push back my chair slowly. “What are you talking about?”
“Dallas airport is one of the busiest hubs we have!” he yells, spit actually flying. “And you blasted a fifty percent off campaign fromthe wrong fucking location.Do you have any idea how many calls we’ve gotten about this? People showed up to book flights only to be told the discount doesn’t exist?
“I-”
“No,” he cuts me off, pacing now. “We either eat the loss, or we retract and piss off about a hundred thousand customers. It’s a fucking nightmare.”
I narrow my eyes, voice low. “That is exactly what I told you when you told me to make the campaigns. You told me to mind my own pay grade and stamp it. Don’t pin this on me, Dan.”
Dan’s face goes beet-red. “You piece of shit,” he spits. “Don’t try to make this out to be my fault. You should’ve used your fucking brain and thought it through. Now we have to explain to the new boss why a mid-level employee fucked it up. Pack your bags, your days are numbered.”
He storms out before I can say anything. Through the open doors, I can see heads turning in the bullpen; half the office is pretending they didn’t just hear their marketing director scream at me like that. I stare at them. They look away the second our eyes connect.
I know I should be worried, but I’m not stupid. I knew Dan would try to pin this on me the second he realized the blowback. That’s why, the night before I signed, I emailed him. I asked him to confirm which location the campaign should run from. He replied, plain as day:“Dallas Airport - go ahead, stamp it.”I saved the thread. I CCed Knore and Hughes when I sent it.
My personal life may be in the gutter, but at least my job is safe.
A job I don’t even want anymore, if I’m being honest.
Last night, Brooke said I’d changed. And she’s right. I have. Just… not for the better.
It started when Dan showed up. Before him, I actually mattered here. I was a marketing manager doing half the president’s job,and it felt good. Made me feel important. Like I had weight. Like what I said counted.
Then Dan walked in and all of that got ripped out from under me. My title didn’t matter anymore. My voice didn’t matter anymore. And somewhere along the way, I started carrying that bitterness home. I didn’t even notice it at first, just small things. Shorter answers. Longer silences.
I let the way this place made me feel bleed into my marriage.
I projected it onto Brooke. Onto us.
That’s on me. I shouldn’t have let the stress from work make me shut down. I should’ve explained it to her. Told her I was doing this for her, for Penny, not because of some screwed-up patriarchal belief that she belongs at home. But I didn’t. And instead of talking, I pulled away.
And yeah, I shouldn’t have hidden the money problems either. That one’s on me too.
So, I’ll fix it. I’m going to give her the passwords, the logins, the full details on every account. Let her have the same access I do. Not because I owe it like some transaction, but because she deserves to have power, too.
Because she’s my wife, not my dependent.
I look down at the contracts spread across my desk. At this point, I’d much rather be home.
My lips press together, the thought forming before I can stop it. Severance wouldn’t be that bad. It’d hold us long enough for me to get another job. Hell, we could finally sue over Brooke’s termination, actually fight back instead of just swallowing it.
