“You haven’t told us about the proposal, Ethan. Tell us—did we win the defense contract?”

Here it is, the moment I knew was coming. I stand at the head of the board table, my team sitting in front of me, eyes raised, waiting intensely for my reply. I lower my head and place my hands flat on the edges of the table.

“Ladies and gentlemen, you all did a fantastic job working toward the defense contract, but I’m sorry to say that we haven’t been successful.”

My Head of Development, Mitchell, is horrified. He stares at me with wide, angry eyes. “How can that be? We were miles ahead of anything that Oswald Solutions can offer. We worked for months on those prototypes. They were flawless.”

“The proposal covered everything,” Elaine, my Head of Communications, chimes in. “The research was all there; the figures were right. I don’t know how anybody in their right minds could turn us down. Our standards were far above anything else on the market. How could this happen?”

I pause and take a moment to glance at each shocked face. Some of my team look angry; others, heartbroken. All of them are confused. Thousands of hours have been spent creating something that has gone nowhere. My team were proud of all they’d done, and it had all come to nothing. Because of me.

“I have to be honest with you all,” I tell them. “We weren’t rejected by the Department of Defense. I withdrew our bid.”

An audible gasp passes around the table. Everyone begins to shout questions at me over one another, becoming a furious rabble.

Mitchell’s voice is louder than the rest. “What the fuck, Ethan? Did you get cold feet?”

“No, Mitchell. The work you have all done was impeccable, and I have never been prouder of my team. Each and every one of you has risen to the challenges of this project, and I’m impressed by the quality of the work you’ve done here. I want you all to know that my decision to withdraw the bid was not due to a lack of confidence in what you created.”

Elaine fixes me with a blank stare. “Then why?”

I take a deep breath and shake my head. I lift my gaze and make sure to catch the eyes of each person in the room. “I made some bad decisions that put us in a compromising situation. Because of those decisions, I had no choice but to end our involvement in the defense contract. We lost the contract because of me. This is my fault, and I apologize to you all. I hope that you can forgive my poor judgment.”

“I don’t understand, Ethan,” Mitchell says. “What bad decisions? What compromising situation?”

“I allowed my personal life to get in the way of business, Mitchell. I can’t give any more details, but I will reiterate that I accept full responsibility for losing this contract. I’m sorry.”

My team has more questions. I can feel their unspoken words burning in the air, but it’s too difficult for me to say any more. I’m filled with a crushing guilt. “Thank you for attending this meeting this morning. I appreciate your time. Please tell your teams to continue with their normal work. We’re back to business as usual.”

I call the meeting to an end and wait for everybody to file out. Each of them casts me a scathing glare as they pass by; a couple look concerned. Then it’s just me and Jennifer in the boardroom.

She rests her hand on my arm. “You did well, Ethan.”

“I feel like a complete jerk. Did you see their faces? All the work they put in, for what? And their boss can’t even tell them why.”

“You know that telling them would do no good. You told them it involved your personal life. They don’t need to know anymore.”

“There’ll be rumors.”

“There always are.”

“There’ll be resignations.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Really? Because if my boss had thrown years of my work down the drain with no real explanation, I’d be walking.”

“These people are loyal to you. They trust you.”

“Not anymore.”

“Whose name is it on the door, Ethan? This is Steele Industries. You built this company from the ground up. None of them would be here without you. This will be a hard blow for them, but they know you’re good at what you do, and you’ve always taken care of your staff. They’ll be disappointed, but everybody loves working here. This will pass.”

I nod, although I’m not convinced. I’ve let down my employees today.

* * *

Three weeks later, I walk into the lobby of my headquarters. Heads turn and conversations fall silent as I pass. I hear whispers.

Ever since news of the loss of the defense contract spread, people have been filling in the gaps with their imagination. Terminal illness. Mental breakdown. It doesn’t help that I’ve been absent from work a lot lately.

I go to my office. When I arrive, Jennifer’s waiting at her desk outside my door. She looks surprised to see me, stands, and follows me in. “Ethan! You’re in today. We haven’t seen much of you lately.”

“I told you on the phone, Jen, I’m stepping back a little.”

“Is that paint on your neck?”

I rub at the mark and sit down behind my desk.

Jennifer continues. “Are you a painter now? Jesus, Ethan, people have been asking where you are, and I don’t know what to tell them. I’ve got the press hounding me night and day. People are talking.”

“I told you there’d be rumors.”

“I can handle rumors, but I need a direction to spin the press. I’ve been trying to get ahold of you so you can tell me what you want me to say.”

“Tell them Ethan Steele is taking a sabbatical.”

“A sabbatical, hmm?” Jennifer sits on the other side of my desk, then leans forward on her elbows. “People think you had a breakdown, you know that? They’re talking about how you threw the defense contract and then haven’t come to work. People need to see you around here, or they’re going to lose faith in you.”

Jennifer reaches out and takes hold of my wrist, her eyes full of concern. “This isn’t like you, Ethan. Please tell me everything’s okay.”

“Everything is fine.”

She sits back. “Have you heard from Lily?”

“No.”

“Are you going to reach out to her?”

“I already have.”

“You have?”

“Yes.”

“What did you say?”

“I sent her a gift.”

Jennifer’s face falls. “I thought you said she’s not the sort of girl to go for expensive gifts.”

“It’s not that kind of gift. It’s something personal. From the heart.”

“I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you, then.”

“Thanks, Jennifer.”

I wanted to reach out to Lily sooner, but it took me a month to finish the portrait. When I returned to New York after Lily told me to leave, I didn’t know how I was ever going to make things right, or if I would ever see her again. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of the barely-begun canvas that I’d brought back with me from Arizona.

Paintbrush in hand, I started to bring Lily back to life. The girl I knew. The one I loved. I knew I had to finish it.

I’d spent hours hunched over the easel, putting oil to canvas. It had been so hard to break the news that we’d lost the defense contract to my team, and even harder to lose Lily all over again. When I had the brush in my hand, I could escape my thoughts and return to her.

A month had passed, but it was done, and I’d sent it to Lily. I’d thought about writing a letter to go with it, but I couldn’t find the words. I hoped that the painting would be enough to show her that she has always been with me.

“What will you do if the gift doesn’t work?” Jennifer asks me.

I don’t reply.

Jennifer leans forward, her expression tense. “I know you love her, Ethan, but this company needs you. If things don’t work out with Lily, please promise you’ll still come back to us.”

“I won’t let this company fall to pieces, Jen,” I say. “I’m thinking of making some changes.”

“Like what?”

“Stepping back a little. Letting you and Mitchell take the reins a bit more. The team is full of smart, talented people. I think maybe it’s time I let you spread your wings.”

“What are you talking about, Ethan?”

“Time back in Arizona has reminded me what really matters. I’m making money here, and I’m in the papers, but it’s all empty without someone to share it with. Lily said she didn’t recognize me anymore, and I feel like I don’t know myself these days, either.”

A half-smile plays on Jen’s face. “She said you used to be fun.”

“Hard to imagine, right?”

Jennifer sighs and sits back. “I don’t blame you if that’s what you want to do. I’ll help you put things in place. But promise me you won’t isolate yourself if you’re not with Lily. You’re too young for a mid-life crisis.”

I laugh. “I’m going to be fine, Jen. I guess this whole thing with Vincent and Lily has just put things into perspective for me. The life I’ve built here is great, but it’s not enough anymore. I want her. If I can’t have Lily, I at least want to be myself—someone more like I used to be. I’m not sure how I’m going to work it out yet, but I want to find the balance.”

I think of Lily. She should have received the portrait by now. I wonder if she’s opened it.

The portrait was my final gesture, the last thing I’ll do to try and win her back. I thought it would remind her of who I used to be, and let her see I’m still the same person, no matter what stupid mistakes I’ve made.

If it doesn’t work, then I’ll let her be. I’ll let that choice be hers. But I won’t go on living the way I have been. I’ll keep a little bit of Lily with me—always.