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Same Day, Different Perspective
God, I fucked up.
For months, I was able to stay on top of things before anyone was the wiser, but this time…
Unacceptable.
I’m spiraling, but I can’t seem to get off the ride.
The crisp morning air does little to clear my head as I approach the Bright Shipping construction site. The familiar clang of metal and shouts of the workers used tofill me with pride. A sense of purpose. Not anymore. I’m oppressed with my own personal turmoil.
Today’s meeting with Stanley Bright isn’t going to be our usual discussion about timelines and budgets. It’s a come-to-Jesus reckoning—a confrontation. In all likelihood, I’m going to lose this job. If I do, I’ll never recover. Not just as a CEO, but as a man.
How have allowed myself to sink so low?
Trudging across the site, my every step is heavy. Each breath a labor. Passing the vast array of cranes and scaffolding, I’m reminded what’s at stake. The success of this project is critical, not just for Bright Shipping but for the future of McGloughlin Construction, the company my father nearly ran into the ground because of his own battles with alcohol.
Battles that now seem to be mine as well.
Stanley Bright waits for me in the office trailer, his silhouette imposing against the morning light. He doesn’t waste time on pleasantries.
“Cillian, I’m not beating around the bush.” His voice is stern and cold. “I hired you because of your reputation in the industry and the nearly unanimous opinion about your ability to lead. This project is crucial to Bright Shipping, and I’ve been hearing things about your presence. Or, lack thereof more precisely.”
The accusation hits hard, and I stiffen. “Mr. Bright, I assure you—”
“Save it,” he cuts me off sharply. “I’m not here to listen to excuses. I’ve invested a lot in this partnership, and your recent behavior is concerning. Missing a crucial meeting with the city?No.”
His words are like a slap, jolting me to the core. I can feel my face redden with shame. “I’m handling it.”
The truth is, the rumors he’s heard are not unfounded. My reliance on alcohol has grown and I’m often not able to get going until late in the morning. My crutch for dealing with the heartbreak and guilt over Ivy has morphed into an addiction. I know it, but I can’t seem to stop.
“Handling it?” Stanley’s gaze is unrelenting. “How? This is not just your reputation on the line. It’s your entire company.”
“Please accept my apology. I take full responsibility. I won’t let you down, Mr. Bright. I’m committed to this project, I’m meeting with the city this afternoon.” The assurance sounds hollow, even to my own ears.
I don’t tell him I had to pull every favor in the book to get back on the schedule. Rabbit tricks will only go so far, though.
To my surprise, Stanley’s expression softens slightly, but his next words are no less severe. “I’m giving you one last chance. Something is going on with you and Idon’t like it. Be a fucking professional. One more fuck up and I’ll pull the plug. Trust me, I’ll make sure no one in this industry touches McGloughlin Construction with a ten-foot pole.”
The threat is clear and the gravity of the situation settles in. I’m not just risking my job or my company; I’m risking everything my da and my brother, Connor, sacrificed to keep the business going. I’m risking what I built, growing McLoughlin Construction into a legacy business. One I hope to pass down to my kids. I’m risking the jobs of hundreds of employees at McGloughlin Construction.
You’re such a piece of shit.
The meeting with Stanley Bright leaves me reeling. As I walk away from the office trailer, the pressure is crushing. After I walk the jobsite and check in with my project leads, I head back to my truck. The tension coils tighter with each passing minute.
My drive to DPD is a blur. I take a moment to collect myself. Hating my first thought is to stop and get a drink before the meeting. I glance at my reflection in the rearview mirror, noting the dark circles under my eyes and the strain etched into my features.
Get it together, Cillian. This is your last shot.
Inside, the hallways are a maze of bureaucracy. I navigate them with practiced ease, reaching the meeting room where the city inspector, Jon Billings is waiting. I’ve worked with himfor years. Hung out at his house. Now, my heart pounds as I step inside. My hands tremble as I arrange the blueprints on the table.
“Cillian.” Jon’s tone is formal and unforgiving. “What the fuck? I’ve never known you to miss a meeting. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah…” I try to hide the turmoil churning in the pit of my stomach. “I apologize for any inconvenience. I don’t really have an excuse, other than I wrote down the wrong day.”
The ensuing discussion is intense. I field questions about environmental impacts, safety protocols, and budget allocations. Luckily, I know this project backward and forward, and I’m able to respond with a level of precision that belies the chaos in my mind. As the minutes tick by, I feel a semblance of control returning.
I’ve pulled it off. For now.
