Page 26 of What Broke First (The Cheating A$$hole #1)

Matt was in the middle of reviewing a client pitch deck when a sharp knock on his office door snapped him out of his concentration.

“Come in,”

he called, expecting an assistant or worse, another scheduling conflict.

Instead, Jim Holloway stepped in, crisp suit and steely gaze intact. Matt sat straighter.

“Jim. This is a surprise. Everything alright?”

Jim nodded once, closing the door behind him and taking the seat across from Matt’s desk.

He didn’t speak right away, just studied Matt with a kind of serious calm that put Matt instantly on edge. His first thought was Lily. Had she finally decided to turn her cold shoulder into something messier?

But Jim didn’t mention Lily. Instead, he said.

“I’ve been watching your numbers. Your client growth. Your team management. And that last campaign? Brilliant.”

Matt blinked.

“Thank you. I appreciate that.”

Jim leaned forward, elbows on his knees.

“You’ve been grinding, Matt. Quietly. Consistently. And it hasn’t gone unnoticed. The partners and I think it’s time. We want to offer you a seat at the table.”

It took a second for the words to register.

“You mean... partner?”

Jim cracked a rare smile.

“That’s exactly what I mean. You’ve earned it. We’ll send over the paperwork tonight, but I wanted to deliver the news in person.”

Matt stood, hand extended.

“Thank you, Jim. Truly.”

“You’ve more than earned it,”

Jim replied, standing too.

“We need people like you at the helm.”

Later that evening, Matt sat at his kitchen table, the soft hum of the dishwasher in the background as he clicked open the email with the subject line: PARTNERSHIP TERMS.

He read every line twice, then a third time, heart thrumming with a mix of pride and disbelief. He was going to say yes. He typed his acceptance before he could second-guess everything..

Then he just sat there, staring at the screen, hands still on the keyboard.

Would Sarah be proud of him? Or would she just offer that polite, practiced nod she’d been using lately, the one that landed somewhere between indifference and quiet judgment.

“It’s about time,”

she might say. No smile. No warmth. Just another box checked on the long list of things she used to wish he would do.

He hated how much her opinion still mattered. Every success still came with a shadow of wondering whether she’d care. Or worse, if she had already stopped.

They were cold to each other now. Surface-level exchanges, strained nods, polite texts. He’d become a relic in her life, present, but no longer necessary.

And then there was Jordan.

He was everywhere. At the soccer games, in Sarah’s driveway, holding Emily’s hand while she skipped ahead. The guy remembered Tommy’s science project deadline and probably knew which stuffed animal had to be next to Sarah’s pillow for her to fall asleep. He was ingrained now, part of the rhythm.

Matt rubbed his jaw, the familiar ache of frustration simmering beneath his skin. He didn’t hate Jordan, not really. But he hated that someone else had taken up space that used to be his. Space he’d forfeited.

So maybe it was time.

Time to stop hoping for things that might never come back. Time to stop waiting to be chosen again.

He’d throw himself into the work. If nothing else, he could be the kind of partner this company had never seen. Focused, relentless, respected. He would bury the ache under numbers and strategy decks and campaign wins. Maybe the pride he couldn’t feel at home, he could build here.

He closed the laptop, pushed back from the table, and stared out the window at the city lights.

It wasn’t the future he had imagined.

The next morning, he walked into the office, greeted by handshakes, congratulations, and a bottle of champagne from one of the senior partners.

He felt weightless.

A few of the partners pulled him into the conference room for a toast. There were clinks of glasses, jokes about gray hair, and genuine smiles of respect. It was a moment he’d remember for a long time and a much-needed confidence booster.

After the celebration, he returned to his office to find Lily standing in the doorway.

“Hey,”

she said.

“I just wanted to say congratulations. Partner... that’s a big deal.”

Matt straightened. Her tone was even. Professional. Not a trace of the awkward tension that had haunted their last encounters.

“Thank you,”

he said.

“I appreciate it.”

She nodded, offered a small smile.

“You’ve earned it. Congrats again.”

Then she turned and walked away.

Matt exhaled. He hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath. Relief washed over him like a quiet tide.

She was no longer part of his story. Not anymore.

When he picked up the kids that afternoon, there was no chit-chat with Sarah. Just a polite nod and a quick goodbye before the kids climbed into the car.

Back at the apartment, he surprised Tommy and Emily with cake and ice cream. The good kind, with sprinkles and fudge and sugar highs that were probably poor parenting but absolutely worth it.

“Why are we celebrating?”

Tommy asked, his mouth already full of vanilla frosting.

Matt grinned.

“Because I got promoted. I’m going to be a partner at work.”

Tommy gasped.

“Like a boss?”

“Like a boss-boss,”

he said, tapping his nose with a whipped cream finger.

They cheered, clinking juice boxes together.

Later that night, after the kids were in bed, Matt sat on the couch staring at the city lights outside his window.

He should’ve felt full, complete. But there was a space beside him on the couch that felt too empty. One he wasn’t sure would ever be filled again.

The next evening, Sarah opened the front door as the kids came barreling in, still buzzing from the sugar and excitement.

“Mom! Dad’s a partner now! We had cake and ice cream!”

Sarah blinked. “What?”

She stepped out onto the porch, looking for Matt. But he was already gone.

No sign of him in the driveway. No text. No wave good-bye. Just... gone.

She stood there for a moment, hand still on the doorframe, heart unexpectedly hollow.

Did he make partner? That was a goal of his. She was happy for him. Of course she was. But deep down, something stung. A milestone this big, and she’d heard it from their kids.

Matt hadn’t shared it with her. Not even a message. And she wasn’t sure if that hurt more because of what they were now or what they used to be.

Had he told Marley?

Her stomach turned. Marley.

Was he with Marley now? Did she know about the promotion before Sarah did? Was she the one Matt celebrated with, the one he clinked glasses with over overpriced wine and self-earned success?

It shouldn’t have mattered. But it did.

The thought of him laughing across a table, leaning into someone else, letting another woman into the parts of his life that once belonged to Sarah, it scraped something raw inside her. Maybe it was jealousy. Maybe it was guilt. Or maybe it was the fear that she was finally being replaced.

Maybe this was her fault. Maybe she had pushed so hard for space that she built a wall even she couldn’t see over anymore.

And maybe he had stopped waiting.