“I’m telling you, this is going to change everything," Haven assured me, her voice honeyed from across the table as she tried to talk me down from totally freaking out. I knew she was just trying to help, but I still felt like flipping the table and storming out of the restaurant.

"Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m worried about," I muttered in return, taking a swig of my beer. I usually avoided beer, but right now, anything that would take the edge off everything I was feeling was welcome, no matter how many carbs it had.

"You need to slow down there, buddy," she ordered me firmly. "We don’t want you getting drunk and making a scene and destroying all of your hard work, do we?"

"I don’t give a fuck," I replied, louder than I had to. Haven had been dealing with me for long enough that she didn’t even flinch at the curse word coming out of my mouth.

"Anyway, I’ve been getting calls from a few studios," she explained, turning the topic of the conversation back to what we had come here to discuss. "And it looks like it’s worked. Everything’s changed. Really, after that interview, people see you differently."

"Yeah, well, I still wish I could have been the one to control that narrative," I replied curtly. She tightened her jaw. She was my agent, and she was doing her best to see the upside in this situation, but she still cared about me, and I could tell she didn’t like how much I was hurting.

And I was hurting. I knew that I should have just put it behind me already, focused on the positives that were coming out of this, but I still felt as though I had been ripped open at the seams, and it just didn’t feel anything close to fair. All of the anger and guilt and rage that I had been doing such a good job at holding in felt as though they were constantly on the brink of spilling out of me, and I didn’t like feeling that close to losing control.

But the interview had changed how people thought of me. Now, I was a victim – now, people could humanize me a little, and magazine articles could describe me as “tortured” instead of “acting out.” In the last few days, since the interview had gone out live, the place that I took up in popular culture had shifted entirely.

And yet, I couldn’t even enjoy the change, the change that had been the whole point of reaching out to someone like Kari in the first place. Because I was still so fucking angry all the time. I did my best to keep my game face on, to smile at the photographers who had started clustering around me every chance they got, yelling questions about what I had been through and whether I wanted to comment on it or how I felt being an icon for the movement, but it was nearly impossible. My entire life, I had responded to everything bad with anger, and now, I had to sit on that and keep it in and pretend that I was doing just fine. Any reaction would have acted as either a confirmation or a denial, and I wanted to have control over that part of the narrative, at least.

And I was also missing the hell out of Kari, which wasn’t helping proceedings one bit. I wanted nothing more than to see her and talk to her and spill my guts out to her about all of this and how it made me feel, but she was the one who had put me in this position in the first place. There was no way I would turn to her for help, not when she had screwed me over so completely and without any kind of warning. Still, sometimes I would lie in bed and remember how it had felt to wake up next to her, to cradle her in my arms beside me while she slept, and I would wonder if I could put this whole thing behind me.

"You’re still planning on doing the charity event, right?” Haven asked, pulling me back to the real world. I nodded.

"Of course I am," I replied coolly. "I can’t pull out now. How would that look?”

"Agreed," she nodded as she tossed down her napkin and waved over the waiter to get the bill. I looked down at the barely-touched food in front of me. I hadn’t had much of an appetite recently, with everything that had been going on, but I would need my energy for when I saw Kari again.

The event was all planned and ready to go, and I could hardly wait to see Kari for the first time since the interview. I hadn’t bothered to get in touch with her – I had no idea what I would say to her anyway, so I’d decided to focus my energies on what I would say when I saw her at the charity event. I was having dozens of kids taken up to the Colorado lodge – I had rented out a few extra buildings as well, just to make sure nobody had to stand out in the cold – and Kari was supposed to be coming along as a representative of the charity to make sure that everything ran smoothly. I could finally get her alone, finally get a chance to talk to her, to confront her about everything that she had done. All of the ways she had fucked me over.

The event was taking place that weekend, and I spent the next few days in the gym, working off all of the excess energy that had been building up inside of me since it had happened. When I saw Kari, I was going to be calm. I was going to look her in the eyes and tell her that what she had done had been awful, that she had taken something from me that I would never be able to get back.

But when it came time for me to head up to the lodge, I called up the charity to make sure that Kari was going to be there – and found myself on the receiving end of an apology.

"I’m very sorry, Morgan, but Kari is actually out sick at the moment," the woman on the other end of the line explained. I winced. Yeah, I would believe that when I saw it. She was avoiding me because she knew she had to. I had never put her down for a coward, but clearly, I had been wrong – she was hiding from me because she was too nervous to face up to what she had done to me. This action was far from the woman I had fallen in love with.

Still, I traveled up to the cabin alone, trying to prepare myself for what it was going to be like being around all of those kids at once. I had to admit, I was hoping that it went well – not just for my career, but because these kids deserved a great Christmas, just the same as anyone else. I had grown up with enough distracted, half-baked family holidays to know how much the good ones could mean, and I really wanted to make sure I gave them something happy to look back on. Something as far removed from my own childhood as I could possibly muster up.

When I got to the cabin, I found the place already swarming with press – I managed to breeze past them without too much trouble, not paying an ounce of attention to what they were yelling to me. Even though I could imagine what it was, and the thought of those questions flicked my anger into a higher gear. No, I wasn’t going to let these vultures get in the way of me giving these kids a good Christmas adventure.

The snow had already begun to fall around the cabin, forming a thin coating on the ground, and I silently hoped that an avalanche might turn up to sweep all of the paparazzi away. I wasn’t going to let them get in the way of this, anyway. I had a commitment to fulfill, and I was going to do a good job here today.

"Morgan?” A woman caught me by the arm. She was wearing a microphone and looked as though she’d been plucked from the floor of some 1990s sitcom shoot.

"Yes?" I responded, pulling my arm away from her on instinct. I didn’t like being touched, least of all after everything that had happened.

"We need you to head through to the staging area as soon as you can," she replied. I nodded. It was weird. I hadn’t done a job that didn’t directly relate to acting in a long time, and I wasn’t quite sure how to conduct myself in the real world. I rolled my shoulders back and prepared myself.

I still wasn’t sure how I was going to pull this one out of the bag. It wasn’t like I had done much work with kids in the past – hell, I had actively avoided them wherever I could, and I knew that was about to come back and bite me in the ass. I had to make Christmas special for all of them, but I was hardly feeling in the Christmas spirit myself today, what with Kari so far from me and my business spattered about the media where everyone could see it.

I was led through to the staging area, and there found even more people running around and trying to get everything in hand – the place was packed with activity, but no kids yet, thank goodness. I could have a little more time to myself, something I needed more than I cared to admit. If I could have flown back home right now without blowing anything, I would have done it. But my reputation relied on this going well, and besides, no matter what had happened between us, I didn’t want to let Kari down. Not on something I knew she had worked so hard at.

I was guided toward this giant throne thing that was sitting in the middle of the room, covered in artful sprinkles of fake snow – there were gifts scattered around the base of the chair, and a woman with another headpiece approached me, looking as though her mind was jumping in a thousand different directions at one.

"Alright," she sighed, running her hands through her already-messy hair. "Take this list..."

She pushed a scrap of paper into my hand, and I glanced down, trying to make sense of it.

"Each kid has a gift here that’s specifically for them," she explained. "When the kids come up, you ask their name, talk a little bit, and then give them the gift. They’re tagged with everything you need. That clear?”

"That’s clear," I replied with a nod. She marched away from me without saying another word. I settled back into the seat and tried to quell the wave of nervousness that was rising up inside of me. What if I fucked this up? What if someone asked about my past? What was I supposed to do then? I felt as though my brain was going to pop straight out of my head, like I couldn’t control it. I hated this.

But only a few more hours, and it would be done, and I could leave this whole mess behind me once and for all. Suddenly, the staging area cleared of people, leaving just me, perched on the chair, with the distant sound of piped-in Christmas carols filling the still air.

Moments later, the door at the other end of the room burst open, and a bunch of kids filed in to fill the space. Maybe a hundred? Maybe more. They were all laughing and chatting, looking around and taking the place in. Their wonder led my own, and I noticed the candles flickering around the room and the way they caught off the tinsel draped over every surface. It looked beautiful in here, so full of life and activity and joy. I felt myself beginning to relax. I was just playing a part, right? Just playing the part of someone who was good with children. I could manage that for a couple of hours. I could pull this out of the bag.

And to my surprise, I actually did. The kids approached me, some nervous, some swaggering and showing off to their friends, some smiling and excited. And I spoke to each and every one of them. At first, I didn’t have a clue what to say, but I soon settled into a routine that seemed to work – I would ask about their year, what they were hoping for as a Christmas gift, and then I would hand over the present and tell them not to open it until Christmas. A couple of them asked for my autograph, which I happily provided. A few more climbed into my lap, which was a little unsettling at first, but I got quickly used to it. I could manage this. They were just kids, after all – just tiny, little humans who wanted help and love and support. The same things that I had wanted when I was their age.

Outside, the snow had begun to fall again, and the sky had begun to dim a little. I could see a few of the kids glancing restlessly out of the windows. I supposed even a movie star wouldn’t be enough to keep them from wanting to play outside in the real, bona fide snow.

Before I knew it, I had been through all of the kids – there were no gifts left on the ground below, and people had moved in to start cleaning up what was left now that they were all gone. I didn’t get out of my seat for a moment, even though I knew I should have been helping out. I honestly didn’t want to say goodbye to all of this, not quite yet.

Being around those kids, seeing everything that they brought to this place, had reminded me of how I had felt when I had been around Kari that night. That night I had spent in her house, with her kids, when I’d felt as though I belonged there. It had been so easy with her. All of the stuff that had scared the shit out of me when I’d thought about having kids before had seemed to just slide away when I was beside her, and I wanted nothing more than to be back by her side again. No, not back with her – back in that moment, on that evening, before she had exposed me to the entire world. I wanted to slip back behind all of this and hide out there with her in the past, in my memories. That was what I really wanted to do.

I could imagine having kids with Kari in that moment, I really could. Which was bizarre because I had never even thought about doing something like that before. I wasn’t the dude who women came to for children, or to be a father, or to stick around for more than a night. But Kari had brought that all out in me, everything that had been buried all of this time. And I couldn’t just shove it back down, no matter how much I wanted to.

I eventually climbed out of the seat and decided to wander outside for a cigar – I could use one, after the day I’d had. I slipped off to the balcony around the back of the house, far from where I knew the kids were going to be. I didn’t want them to catch me smoking, even if it was an upmarket cigar – I figured the organizers of the event were less likely to see it in such positive terms. They would just notice the kids seeing Santa puffing away, and I doubted that was going to go over too well with the press.

I was making my way up the stairs to the balcony when I spotted a face that I recognized – it took me a moment to place who it was and where I knew him from, but as soon as I did, I felt my stomach churn with irritation.

It was Adam, Kari’s ex, the guy who had been telling her off at her work the time that I had come in to pick her up. He was leaning up against the wall of the space under the stairs, talking to some much-younger woman. She was pretty, if you liked that kind of thing, but she looked bored out of her mind, as though she was seriously considering just calling a cab and getting straight out of this conversation. I was just about to head up the stairs and leave them to whatever bullshit they were discussing when I overheard the mention of my own name.

"And that’s when Morgan..."

I froze on the spot, just out of sight of the two of them. They wouldn’t even know that I was there. I could have just ducked away and gotten out of there, backed off and left them to whatever gossip they were currently in the middle of. But I was far too intrigued for that. I knew I should leave, but I couldn’t. I needed to hear what they were saying about me. Hadn’t all of this shit started because I wasn’t paying enough attention to what people were saying about me?

I shifted a few inches farther around the corner to make sure they weren’t able to see me and pricked up my ears to take in what they were saying about me. I was genuinely intrigued – I wanted to know if I had fucked something up at the event and if they were spreading shit about me now. I had come all the way out here to make a difference, not to take a step backwards because some pathetic little man couldn’t accept that everything didn’t go his way all of the time.

"You should have seen him when he was in the office," Adam continued. "I was just letting Kari know about some work emails that we had to deal with later that day, yeah? And this guy comes storming in and acts like I was choking her out on the floor or something. He was so fucking mad. I thought he was going to try to punch me or something, but he must have known about my training, so he didn’t touch me..."

I rolled my eyes. No matter what training this guy had, I would put money that I could beat him when it came down to a brawl. He was just showing off to that pretty, young thing he had on his arm, even though she looked as though she already had one foot out the door. And who could blame her? His conversation seemed marginally less interesting than that of the kids playing outside. At least they had a better sense of humor.

"So I knew that I needed to show the world who he really was," he continued, and I froze on the spot. I was squeezing the cigar so tight in my hand, I was surprised the entire thing didn’t just disintegrate.

"I’d heard the rumors going around for a long time, but I wasn’t sure if they were true," he went on. "You know, the stuff about him getting...about that happening to him. And I thought, well, if he’s going to be working for our charity, then the least we can do is make sure that the rest of the world knows what’s going on, right?”

My heart was pounding in my ears. My entire body felt like it was rooted to the earth, stuck, trapped.

"So I called the studio that was doing the interview with him and Kari, you know," he continued, "and I let them know what they were dealing with."

It took everything I had in me not to turn around, grab that little fucker by the collar, and drag him out of the building so that we could see once and for all who would have won in a fight between us. But I knew that wasn’t how I should deal with this.

My head was spinning as I tried to make sense of what I was hearing from him. He carried on talking, on a roll now, apparently proud of everything he had done and happy to go on about it at length.

"And I wasn’t sure if the studio was going to ask him about it on air like that," he continued. "But they did. And, well, you only had to see his reaction to know what the truth was...seriously, thank God for the source who gave me that. I would have been screwed if it had come out any other way. At least we got to stay in control of the narrative, right?”

"Right," the woman replied finally, but her voice was laced with discomfort. As well it should be. In what world was this even remotely the kind of thing that people did to one another? I racked my brains to think of who could have blown my cover. It had to have been one of my family members. Or had it already spread out through the industry? My parents had been determined that I wasn’t going to get help for this, but that didn’t mean that they had kept it strictly between themselves. That thought made the ground feel as though it was shifting out from underneath me. All this time, I had assumed that no matter how awful my own mother had gotten, at least she had kept that secret for me. Now, at least, I knew that those beliefs had been a delusion on my part.

"Anyway, we need to get back to business," Adam finished up, almost cheerfully. I seriously considered stepping out and letting him see me standing there, but I didn’t want to confront him right now. No, there was something much more important that I needed to take care of before I thought about kicking the living daylights out of him. And that was Kari.

I had been wrong. I had been so sure that she had been the one to expose all of this to the real world, but it had been her asshole of an ex instead. How could I have let myself believe that it was her? She was good, in a way that nobody else in my life had ever been. She had been solid and kind and good to me, and I had accused her of the worst thing she could possibly have done. What the hell had I been thinking? I wanted to turn back time and undo it all, to go back to her and plead for her forgiveness. I needed to tell her that I understood now and that everything was going to be different.

But I had a bad feeling it was too late for that. When I had pushed her away, I had done it to make sure she would never come back. With every minute that had ticked away since then, she had believed that I had rejected her over nothing.

I grabbed my phone and pulled it from my pocket, but I didn’t have a signal. Shit. I grimaced. I needed to get in touch with her, and I needed to do it now, before time ran out and I lost her for good. I was the one who had been an insensitive bastard, not her, and she deserved an apology from me.

If that would even be enough. I pressed my fingers to my forehead and wondered if she could ever forgive me. If I could ever forgive myself for what I had done.