Prescott Global’s special committee met without Aaron.
That fact reached the business press before the committee released anything.
Not because I leaked it.
The company had enough senior employees, advisers, and directors that secrecy had limits.
A reporter called me.
I declined comment.
Another emailed.
No response.
Nathan approved one line if necessary.
Ms. Prescott will not comment on an internal company review.
I used it twice.
Then stopped answering entirely.
Aaron did the opposite.
He called people.
Board members.
Former directors.
Senior managers.
One retired founder.
Every conversation increased the chance that someone documented pressure.
Rebecca Sloan apparently told him to stop.
He did not stop quickly enough.
Then Prescott Global announced that Aaron would take a temporary leave as CEO while the committee completed its review.
Michael Reeves became acting chief executive.
The market did not collapse.
There was no market.
Private company.
Employees still went to work.
Clients still ordered.
Payroll still ran.
That reality mattered.
One executive’s crisis is not automatically a corporate apocalypse.
Aaron texted me.
You got me suspended from my own company.
I forwarded it to Nathan.
No reply.
Later, he sent.
My father is furious with you.
That one almost made me laugh.
As if Charles Prescott’s anger were a legal event.
The special committee interviewed me once more.
This time, their questions were narrower.
Did Aaron ever ask me to alter receipts?
No.
Did he ask me to tell household accounting staff that Jasmine’s hotel stays were family-related?
No.
Did I know he instructed managers to revise travel descriptions?
No.
Good.
I would not become a witness to facts I did not know.
Then outside counsel showed me one email because it had been sent to my personal address months earlier.
Aaron to me.
Can you tell accounting the Napa extension was client development? Easier than splitting the invoice.
I remembered it.
I had replied.
Was it?
Aaron never answered.
At the time, I assumed some executive-assistant issue.
Now the email looked different.
Still, context mattered.
One email was not proof of everything.
I authenticated it.
Nothing more.
The board had its own records.
Meanwhile, the divorce moved.
The marital house received an appraisal.
We had bought it for $3.4 million.
Now worth around $3.8.
Mortgage substantial but manageable.
Neither of us wanted it.
That surprised me.
Aaron had loved the address.
The landscaped drive.
The wine room.
The study.
But without the marriage, perhaps the house felt like a stage after the audience left.
We agreed to list it.
The realtor recommended staging.
I refused to participate.
Aaron handled it through the agent.
Fine.
One disagreement arose over furniture.
A dining table my mother gave us.
A sculpture Aaron’s sister selected.
A vintage desk I bought before marriage but moved into the house.
Nathan said.
“Pick what matters.”
The table mattered.
The desk mattered.
The sculpture did not.
Aaron wanted the desk.
Why?
Because it was expensive.
Not sentimental.
I held firm.
Documentation showed purchase before marriage.
Mine.
He gave up.
That small dispute irritated me more than seven-figure asset valuations.
Divorce is like that.
A person can calmly negotiate stock and then become furious over a chair.
The third mediation addressed the personal-travel spending.
Priya supported $18,600 as clearly personal use of joint funds connected to Aaron and Jasmine.
Not twenty-three.
Not every charge.
Nathan requested a dissipation credit.
Rebecca offered ten thousand.
We settled at fifteen.
Not because fifteen was moral.
Because litigation over another $3,600 would cost more than the difference.
That lesson repeated.
Fair resolution is often not perfect arithmetic.
It is the point where principle and transaction cost stop fighting.
Then the board report came.
Privately first.
Aaron had violated conflict-of-interest and expense policies.
He had failed to disclose his intimate relationship with an executive whose compensation and role he influenced.
He had charged personal portions of travel to the company.
He had later encouraged managers to characterize some expenses more favorably during review.
The committee stopped short of accusing him of fraud.
Important.
It recommended that he not return as CEO.
The board voted.
Aaron resigned under a negotiated separation agreement.
Not fired for cause in a dramatic meeting.
Resigned.
He retained certain vested rights.
Forfeited some unvested compensation.
Agreed to repay expenses.
Agreed to governance cooperation.
Michael Reeves became permanent CEO.
Charles Prescott opposed it.
The board did it anyway.
That was the day Aaron finally stopped texting me.
For two weeks.
Then one message came.
I hope you’re satisfied.
I stared at it.
Was I?
A year earlier, maybe I would have wanted this.
The powerful husband embarrassed.
The mistress gone.
The board choosing someone else.
But satisfaction was too simple.
Aaron had lost a role that mattered enormously to him.
Because of choices he made.
I did not celebrate.
I also did not rescue him from consequences.
I forwarded the message to Nathan.
Then deleted it from my immediate view.
The company was no longer my problem.
The divorce still was.
Aaron’s resignation created a separate issue in the divorce valuation.
Some compensation he expected to receive never vested.
Rebecca argued that the lost value should affect how marital assets were divided.
Nathan disagreed.
The reason for forfeiture mattered.
So did the prenup.
Experts reviewed.
Again.
No simple answer.
Some unvested awards were contingent on future service and never became marital property.
Others had vested portions attributable to work performed during marriage.
Those pieces were valued.
That process took weeks.
I hated that Aaron’s employment consequences still touched the divorce.
Nathan reminded me.
“Financial lives overlap even when legal issues stay separate.”
Fine.
Then Aaron’s side suggested my board report caused his resignation and therefore reduced the marital estate.
That argument did not go far.
The board had made an independent decision based on its investigation.
Still, they preserved it.
Lawyers preserve arguments.
They do not always believe them.
At the next mediation, Helen said.
“Do not spend three months litigating causation where the valuation difference is smaller than fees.”
She was right.
We settled the stock issue through a midpoint formula.
Neither side loved it.
Excellent sign.
Meanwhile, Prescott Global sent me a formal notice that my old spouse-related access privileges were terminated.
Executive event portal.
Family travel desk.
Household concierge.
I had forgotten half of them existed.
I smiled reading it.
For years, access had felt like status.
Now losing it felt like cleanup.
The family office also removed me from holiday lists.
No more gala invitations.
No more Prescott Foundation seating chart.
No more assistant calling about black-tie dress codes.
My calendar became quiet.
At first, too quiet.
Then peaceful.
I filled it differently.
Client calls.
Lunch with my mother.
Long walks.
One ceramics class I quit after three sessions because clay made me irrationally angry.
That surprised Noah years later when I told him.
“You quit pottery?”
“Immediately.”
“Why?”
“Too much centering.”
He laughed.
At the time, though, quitting felt important.
I did not need every new hobby to become proof I had a full life after divorce.
I could dislike something and stop.
Choice again.
Aaron’s resignation also affected the press cycle.
Articles used phrases like governance crisis.
Family company reckoning.
Executive scandal.
Some mentioned my Slack post.
I stopped reading after Nathan asked.
“What useful information are you getting?”
“None.”
“Then why?”
“Because they’re writing about my life.”
“No. They’re writing about a version of it.”
That helped.
I gave up monitoring.
The story belonged to public gossip for a while.
My actual life did not.
Click here to continue reading: PART 6: Selling the Marital House Made Me Confront the Difference Between Leaving Aaron and Erasing My Own Past
The Slack Message Went Public, but My Real Exit Began With a Prenup and a Paper Trail
Part 5 of 16
