The glittering façade of Boston’s high society cracked wide open this summer when a seemingly innocuous moment at a Coldplay concert spiraled into a scandal that captivated the world. On July 16, 2025, at Gillette Stadium in Foxborough, Massachusetts, a jumbotron’s “Kiss Cam” zoomed in on Astronomer’s Chief People Officer Kristin Cabot, 52, locked in a cozy embrace with her married boss, CEO Andy Byron. The pair’s awkward scramble to hide from the camera, coupled with Coldplay frontman Chris Martin’s quip—“Either they’re having an affair, or they’re just very shy”—ignited a social media firestorm that toppled careers and shattered marriages. Now, Andrew Cabot, 60, Kristin’s husband and a scion of one of Boston’s wealthiest dynasties, has officially announced his divorce from his “disgraceful” wife, marking a dramatic end to a saga that blends infidelity, corporate fallout, and old-money intrigue.

Andrew Cabot, the CEO and COO of Privateer Rum, is no stranger to the public eye. A sixth-generation heir to a Boston Brahmin family fortune estimated at $15.4 billion, his lineage traces back to colonial merchants and privateers who shaped New England’s elite. His rum empire, built on the legacy of his namesake ancestor, has long been a symbol of his family’s enduring influence. But the Coldplay scandal thrust Andrew into an unwelcome spotlight, his personal life dissected across tabloids and X posts. The viral video, which amassed over 30 million views, showed Kristin and Byron swaying intimately before ducking out of sight, a moment that not only humiliated Andrew but also dragged his storied family name into a modern-day soap opera.

The fallout was swift and brutal. Within days, Astronomer, a New York-based AI startup, placed both Kristin and Byron on leave, citing a breach of their leadership standards. Byron resigned on July 19, followed by Kristin’s exit a week later. The company’s board launched a formal investigation, and interim CEO Pete DeJoy addressed the “surreal” media frenzy, vowing to move forward. Meanwhile, the personal toll was staggering. Kristin, spotted in July without her wedding ring at their $2.2 million Rye, New Hampshire home, filed for divorce on August 13, a move that Andrew’s camp now confirms was mutual. In a statement released through a spokesperson, Andrew declared, “My marriage to Kristin is over. Her actions at the Coldplay concert were a disgrace, not just to me but to our family. I wish to move forward with dignity and privacy.” The announcement, laced with barely veiled contempt, marked Andrew’s third divorce, adding another layer to the saga.

The scandal’s roots run deeper than a single night. Insiders claim Kristin and Andrew’s marriage, which began sometime after her 2022 divorce from Kenneth Thornby, was already fraying. A source close to the couple revealed to the press that they had discussed separation months before the concert, though public appearances told a different story. In May 2024, the Cabots posed for smiling family photos on social media, projecting an image of domestic bliss with Andrew’s children from his first marriage to Maud Cabot. Yet, whispers of trouble persisted. Andrew’s second wife, Julia Cabot, who divorced him in 2018, spoke candidly to reporters, calling the scandal “karma.” “I texted Andrew after it happened, and he said, ‘Her life is nothing to do with me,’” Julia revealed. “He’s not a nice person. He only cares about money.” Her biting words painted a portrait of a man more concerned with his empire than his heart, though Andrew’s supporters dismiss her as bitter.

Kristin’s actions at the concert weren’t just a personal betrayal—they struck at the heart of Boston’s tightly knit elite. The Cabot family, once described in a 1972 New York Times profile as having a $200 million fortune tied to soot production for car tires, has long held a near-mythical status. John Collins Bossidy’s famous poem captures their aura: “And this is good old Boston / The home of the bean and the cod / Where the Lowells talk to the Cabots / And the Cabots talk only to God.” For Andrew, a Harvard graduate who has carefully curated his family’s legacy, Kristin’s public indiscretion was a blow to his carefully crafted image. The couple’s recent real estate moves—a $2.2 million home purchase in Rye and the sale of a $1.05 million property—suggested a shared future, making the scandal’s exposure all the more jarring.

The public’s reaction was a mix of schadenfreude and sympathy. On X, users gleefully memed the Coldplay clip, with one post joking, “Kristin and Andy thought they were at a concert, not a career funeral.” Others expressed pity for Andrew, with a commenter writing, “Imagine being a billionaire and your wife’s on the jumbotron with her boss. Brutal.” Kristin, meanwhile, became a lightning rod for criticism. Her absence from Astronomer’s website and her silence in the weeks since fueled speculation about her next move. Some defended her, arguing that the public shaming was disproportionate. “She made a mistake, but the internet’s tearing her apart like she’s a criminal,” one X user posted. The woman who filmed the viral video, Grace Springer, expressed mixed feelings, telling reporters, “I feel bad for turning their lives upside down, but play stupid games, win stupid prizes.”

The scandal also raised thorny questions about workplace dynamics. Kristin, as Astronomer’s HR chief, was responsible for upholding ethical standards, making her relationship with Byron—a subordinate-supervisor dynamic—a textbook violation of corporate governance. Human resources experts weighed in, noting that such relationships, if undisclosed, erode trust and expose companies to legal risks. Astronomer’s swift response—placing both executives on leave and accepting their resignations—signaled a commitment to accountability, but the damage was done. The company, which specializes in data analytics and AI, became an unlikely household name, with some joking that the scandal was its most effective marketing campaign yet.

For Andrew, the divorce is a chance to reclaim his narrative. His spokesperson’s statement emphasized his desire for privacy, a tall order for a man whose family name is synonymous with Boston’s history. Property records confirm that he and Kristin shared a home until recently, but Andrew’s focus now is on his rum empire and his two children from his first marriage. Julia’s claim that he’s “unfazed” by the scandal, more embarrassed than heartbroken, suggests a man accustomed to weathering storms. Yet, the public nature of the betrayal—played out on a jumbotron for thousands to see—has left a mark. “He’s saying it has nothing to do with him, even though they shared a house,” Julia told the press. “But then, the only thing he cares about is money.”

The Coldplay scandal, dubbed “Coldplaygate” online, is more than a tale of infidelity; it’s a window into the collision of old money, modern technology, and human frailty. Kristin’s fall from grace—losing her job, her marriage, and her privacy—serves as a cautionary tale about the risks of crossing personal and professional lines. For Andrew, it’s a chance to sever ties with a partner he now calls “disgraceful,” though his own reputation as a thrice-divorced mogul invites scrutiny. The Cabot family, once untouchable, finds itself humbled by a scandal that even their vast wealth couldn’t shield.

As the divorce proceedings unfold, with a hearing scheduled for November 26 in Portsmouth, New Hampshire, the world watches. Kristin, now lying low, faces an uncertain future, her once-promising career in tatters. Andrew, meanwhile, retreats to his rum distillery, where barrels of Privateer Rum age quietly, far from the chaos of viral videos and broken vows. The Coldplay concert, meant to be a night of music and escape, instead became a turning point, unraveling a marriage and exposing the fragility of even the most privileged lives. In Boston’s rarefied air, where the Cabots once spoke only to God, the echoes of a jumbotron betrayal linger, reminding us that no one is immune to the fallout of love gone wrong.