His response came quickly.
Griffin
That’s good, right? At least he’s meeting with you.
Wesley
Or he’s firing me in person instead of over email.
Griffin
Don’t think like that. Could be good news. Want me to come over tonight?
I did want that—wanted Griffin’s presence, his certainty, his confidence that somehow made my anxiety more manageable. But he had his own consequences to handle.
Wesley
I’ll be okay. Just nervous.
Griffin
Whatever Davidson says tomorrow, we’ll handle it. Together.
Wesley
Together. I like the sound of that.
I spent the rest of Monday alternating between cautious optimism and creeping dread. The media coverage of my post remained positive. Social media responses continued to pour in. But none of that mattered if I’d lost my job and my career.
Even if they fire me, I’ll rebuild, I reminded myself.I’ve done it before. I can do it again.
And the difference this time was Griffin. Last time, after Nashville, I’d rebuilt alone—scarred and determined never to make the same mistakes. This time, if I had to rebuild, it would be with Griffin beside me. That changed everything.
I went to bed early Monday night, needing sleep before Tuesday’s meeting, but lay awake processing everything, wondering what the next day would bring.
Tuesday morning arrived with cruel cheerfulness—sunshine streaming through my windows, birds chirping, the world completely indifferent to the anxiety churning in my gut. I dressed carefully in a suit—charcoal gray, white shirt, blue tie. A shield for whatever verdict awaited.
The drive to the facility felt surreal. I’d been suspended on Friday, had spent the weekend watching Griffin come out and posting my own statement, and now I was returning to learn my fate. Four days that had changed everything.
I had to park in the visitor’s lot. Then I sat in my car for a moment and gathered my courage.
Whatever happens, you’ll survive it. You always do.
I had to get a visitor’s badge at security, a gut-punch reminder that I no longer belonged here.
I took the elevator to the executive level, my heart pounding harder with each floor. Owen’s assistant smiled when I arrived.
“Mr. Hutton. He’s expecting you. Go right in.”
I knocked once, then opened the door to Davidson’s office.
Owen sat behind his massive desk, but he wasn’t alone. HR Director Sarah Thomas sat in one of the chairs facing the desk, and beside her was Anthony Morris, the team’s legal counsel. The formality of the setup made my stomach twist.
This is it. They’re firing me with witnesses.
“Wesley, come in. Sit.” Davidson gestured to the empty chair beside Sarah.
I sat, my hands clasped in my lap to hide their trembling. Three people. Official meeting. This felt like termination.
