“…because I messed up.”
My heart pounded, but I kept my voice steady. “What happened?”
He sniffed. “When we got to the hotel, I found out they booked us in the same room to cut costs. I swear I didn’t know. I thought we’d have separate rooms.”
“And?” I asked.
“And she assumed it was fine,” he said. “Like it was normal. Like we’ve crossed that line already.”
My stomach twisted.
“I told her no,” he rushed on. “I told her I’m married. That I love my wife. That this was inappropriate. She laughed and said if I wanted the promotion, I shouldn’t be so uptight.”
Silence filled the call.
“She’s been hinting for months,” he admitted. “I didn’t want to see it. I thought we were just competitive. But this… this was planned.”
“So why are you crying?” I asked quietly.
“Because I’m at the airport,” he said. “I’m coming home.”
I sat down slowly. “You’re leaving the trip?”
“I already told my boss I’m not staying in a shared room with someone I’m competing against. It’s unethical. And I told him I won’t put myself in a situation that disrespects my marriage.”
My chest tightened — not with jealousy this time, but with something else.
“What about the promotion?” I asked.
“If I have to compromise who I am to get it,” he said, “then I don’t want it.”
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.
“I was jealous,” I admitted. “I even had a plan to show up there and catch you.”
He gave a shaky laugh. “You wouldn’t have found me there. I chose you before I even unpacked.”
When he walked through the front door three hours later, he looked exhausted — but certain.
He pulled me into a hug and whispered, “No job is worth losing you.”
A week later, HR opened an investigation into the booking arrangements. Turns out, it wasn’t the first complaint.
He didn’t get the promotion.
But he kept his integrity.
And he kept me.
