Updated Nov 23, 2025 • ~9 min read
Jeremy came home at eleven that night.
I was already in bed, half-asleep, when I heard the door.
He slipped into the bedroom, moved quietly, clearly trying not to wake me.
“How’d it go?” I asked.
He jumped. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you.”
“You didn’t. I was waiting.” I turned on the lamp. “So?”
He sat on the edge of the bed, loosening his tie. “They voted. Three board members want me out as CEO.”
My stomach dropped. “Can they do that?”
“Not without majority vote. I have enough shares to block it. But it’s close. Closer than I’d like.” He scrubbed his face. “They’re furious about Donovan. Think I’m letting personal issues interfere with fiduciary responsibility.”
“Are you?”
He looked at me. “Yes. And I’d do it again.”
“Jeremy—”
“They gave me an ultimatum. Revisit the Donovan deal or face a no-confidence vote at the shareholder meeting next month.”
“Next month? That’s soon.”
“Very soon.” He pulled off his tie completely. “I told them no. My decision stands.”
“Even if it means losing the company?”
“Even then.” He turned to face me fully. “Rose, I know this is scary. But I built Patterson Technologies once. If I have to, I’ll build something new. What I can’t rebuild is us if I lose you again.”
“That’s not a fair choice. Your career or me.”
“Life isn’t fair. But it’s my choice to make.” He touched my face. “Unless you’re saying I should take the deal? Because if you are, I need to know now.”
I thought about it. Really thought.
“I don’t want to be the reason you lose everything you built.”
“You’re not. They are. The board making this about you instead of respecting my judgment as CEO.” His jaw clenched. “I’m not backing down. But I need to know you’re with me. That we’re facing this together.”
“I’m with you. But Jeremy, what if this gets worse? What if the shareholders side with the board?”
“Then I’ll deal with it. But not tonight.” He pulled me against him. “Tonight I just want to hold my wife and pretend the world isn’t trying to tear us apart.”
We lay in the dark, holding each other.
“I’m scared,” I whispered.
“Me too. But we’re scared together. That’s something.”
The next morning brought headlines.
PATTERSON TECHNOLOGIES CEO FACES BOARD REVOLT
Jeremy Patterson’s Personal Life Threatens Company
Inside the Donovan Deal: How Romance Killed an $800M Acquisition
I found them on my phone over coffee. Sent them to Jeremy.
Did you see these?
Yes. Ignore them. Pr will handle it.
PR can’t unring this bell
No. But they can spin it. “CEO Prioritizes Ethics Over Profit” angle.
Is that what we’re calling this? Ethics?
I’m calling it love. But that doesn’t sell headlines.
At work, the gossip was impossible to ignore.
“Is it true?” Hayley asked. “Jeremy’s board wants him out because of you?”
“It’s more complicated than that.”
“The articles make it sound like you’re some femme fatale who destroyed a company with your feminine wiles.”
“The articles are sensationalized bullshit.”
“I know that. But clients might not.” She lowered her voice. “Eric wants to see you. He doesn’t look happy.”
Eric’s office. Ten a.m.
“Close the door,” he said.
I sat, prepared for the worst.
“The Henderson team saw the articles. They’re concerned about association with Patterson Technologies while the company’s in crisis.”
“Jeremy’s not in crisis. His board is being dramatic.”
“Either way, it’s bad publicity. They’re asking whether Jeremy stays on as consultant.”
My heart sank. “Eric—”
“I told them he does. That internal board drama doesn’t affect his consulting quality. But Rose, if this gets worse, if Patterson Technologies actually faces a vote of no confidence, I might have to cut ties. For optics.”
“I understand.”
“Do you? Because this is your career too. Your reputation. The office romance was cute when it was just gossip. Now it’s national business news.”
“I didn’t ask for any of this!”
“I know. But you’re in it. And you need to decide—are you willing to risk your professional reputation for Jeremy? Because that’s what’s happening.”
I left his office shaking.
At lunch, I met Julie at our usual spot.
“I saw the articles,” she said. “How are you?”
“Terrified. Eric basically said if this gets worse, I could lose my job.”
“He can’t fire you for dating someone!”
“He can fire me for association with bad publicity. It’s in my contract—moral turpitude clause.” I picked at my salad. “This is spiraling. Jeremy’s board wants him out. My boss is worried. The press is making me look like a homewrecker who destroyed a company.”
“Are you regretting moving in with him?”
Was I?
“No. Maybe. I don’t know.” I set down my fork. “I love him. I think. But at what cost? My job? My reputation? My sanity?”
“Then maybe it’s time to step back. Take a break from the intensity.”
“We literally just moved in together!”
“I know. But Rose, look at the pattern. Every time you two get close, everything explodes. Maybe that’s a sign.”
I didn’t want to hear it. But she had a point.
That night, Jeremy came home at reasonable hour—six thirty.
“See? Bounded work hours. Just like I promised.” He kissed me. “How was your day?”
“Eric said if the board crisis gets worse, he might have to cut ties with you. Which affects my work on Henderson.”
Jeremy’s expression darkened. “He said that?”
“He’s protecting the firm. I get it.”
“No. He’s being a coward.” Jeremy pulled out his phone. “I’m calling him—”
“Don’t. Please.” I grabbed his hand. “This isn’t Eric’s fault. It’s the situation. The press. The optics.”
“The optics are that I chose you over money. That should be celebrated, not punished.”
“In a perfect world, yes. But we don’t live in a perfect world. We live in one where business matters and board votes matter and people judge.”
He set down his phone. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying maybe Julie’s right. Maybe we moved too fast. Maybe I should step back from the Henderson work, create some distance—”
“Absolutely not.”
“Jeremy—”
“No. We’re not doing this. We’re not letting them dictate our relationship.” He gripped my shoulders. “I didn’t walk away from eight hundred million dollars to have you hide from me now.”
“I’m not hiding! I’m being practical!”
“You’re being scared. There’s a difference.” His voice softened. “Rose, I know this is hard. But running won’t make it better. It’ll just prove the board right—that personal issues interfere with business.”
“Don’t they? You walked away from a massive deal because of me!”
“I walked away because the deal came with strings that violated my principles. You were the catalyst, not the cause.”
“Semantics!”
“Truth!” He pulled me against him. “I’m not losing you again because of business pressure. I won’t.”
“What if you don’t have a choice? What if the shareholders vote you out and you resent me for it?”
“I won’t resent you. I’ll resent them. Big difference.”
“You can’t know that!”
“I can. Because I’ve spent five years resenting myself for choosing wrong. This time, even if everything falls apart, at least I’ll know I chose right.”
I buried my face in his chest, overwhelmed.
“What if I can’t handle this? The pressure, the publicity, the constant crisis?”
“Then we figure it out together. Maybe we get a PR person. Maybe we sue for defamation. Maybe we move somewhere no one knows us and start over.” He tilted my face up. “But we don’t run from each other. Not anymore.”
“You make it sound simple.”
“It’s not simple. It’s worth it. There’s a difference.”
We stood in our kitchen, holding each other while the world tried to tear us apart.
My phone rang. Unknown number.
Against my better judgment, I answered.
“Roselyn Greenwood?”
“Yes?”
“This is Carter gardener from Business Weekly. I’m writing a piece about the Patterson Technologies board situation. Do you have comment on your role in the CEO’s decision to withdraw from the Donovan acquisition?”
“No comment.” I hung up.
Jeremy’s phone rang. Then mine again. Different numbers.
“They’re circling,” he said. “Looking for any angle on the story.”
“What do we do?”
“We don’t engage. Let PR handle it.” He silenced his phone. “And we have a quiet night. Dinner, movie, pretend the world isn’t losing its mind.”
“I don’t know if I can pretend.”
“Then we don’t pretend. We acknowledge it’s scary and do it anyway.” He pulled out ingredients for dinner. “I’m making pasta. You’re sitting and relaxing. Non-negotiable.”
I watched him cook, fielding phone calls every five minutes, staying calm despite the chaos.
This man. Who’d walked away from hundreds of millions for me. Who was facing professional ruin and still made me dinner.
Either he was the most devoted partner ever, or the most skilled manipulator.
I was terrified I might never know which.
After dinner, we sat on the couch. He pulled me against him.
“Talk to me. What’s in your head?”
“Everything. The board, the press, Eric’s warning, Julie’s concerns.” I twisted to look at him. “What if everyone’s right? What if we’re bad for each other? What if every time we try, the universe pushes back because we’re not supposed to work?”
“Or what if every time we try, we get stronger? More certain? More willing to fight?” He kissed my temple. “I don’t believe in the universe conspiring against us. I believe in making choices and living with consequences. And I choose you. Every time.”
“Even if it costs you everything?”
“Especially then. Because what’s the point of everything if I’m alone?”
I didn’t have an answer.
We went to bed in silence. He held me, and I tried to believe this would work out.
But doubt crept in. Insidious, persistent, fed by every article and warning and complication.
Maybe we weren’t meant to be.
Maybe love wasn’t enough.
Maybe I should walk away before the damage got worse.
I fell asleep to those thoughts, Jeremy’s arms around me, wondering if this was the beginning of our second chance or the end of everything we’d built.
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