Months have passed since Byron’s revelation. That night, he cried into my arms for two hours. Coughing up hate and suppressed emotions. It was cathartic, healing. Not just for him but for me too. It allowed me to lift this veil, this mask of cynicism I’ve had up. I know by now, that he means well. He’s young, reckless and impulsive. But the man has never had anyone trustworthy to look up to, and apparently no one worthy of his love. At least, not since the days of his late mother.

We both said “I love you” in the heat of the moment. We haven’t spoken of it since. Probably because we’re both terrified to be the first one to “break” and admit that we’ve fallen for each other. I think he loves me. But I’m still afraid to call him out on it. I don’t want to pressure him into loving me.

I’m so glad I was able to be there for him as a friend and mentor. But he doesn’t owe me a relationship just because of that. It’s what any decent person would do if they were in a position to help.

Still, we’ve been very close ever since. Almost too close, in the sense that he’s treating me more like a big sister than a fuck buddy as of late. I have to be okay with that, just in case he decides to date someone else.

It might hurt me at first, but ultimately, he must make his own decisions and have his own moments of discovery.

I’ve also since told Bill that I love and respect him, but that I’m not going to keep him on the “back burner” in case things don’t work out with Byron. He deserves more than that. To my relief, he told me he’s dating a twenty-year-old who happens to think he’s amazingly intelligent. Good for him. And yes, it is true what he says. We all like to think we’re still young at heart, and age is just a number. Go get her, Bill!

Byron has been keeping me updated with the latest news. His father did cut him off from the company and eliminated almost ninety percent of his assets. His lawyer only managed to save a few investments, keeping him slightly out of the poor house.

But poor Byron, he was reduced to having less money than me! And a therapist’s salary, well, let’s just say we won’t be planning a trip to Paris anytime soon.

We also confronted Byron’s doctor and got him to admit that he manipulated Byron’s emotions for money. Not only did Byron sue him but he got Dr. Hart reported to the State Medical Board. He’s probably going to lose his license soon and Byron and I will have a toast when that day comes.

Byron did eventually go to the police but as we expected nothing came from it. The police shot holes in his presented evidence, calling it a conspiracy theory. They did admit that in fact Alfred Gallows was legally married to Barbara Kalvan for a while but that it’s not a crime to lie about your first wife. Her official death certificate said, “Natural Causes.” I shudder to think of how much Alfred paid the mortician to cover that murder up. Probably a far smaller sum than people might think.

When a man as powerful as Alfred Gallows commits a crime, people look the other way. Even if they know he did it, just like Byron was trained to do. They suppress. They make excuses. Alfred gaslights them into believing the lie, just like he tried to do with me and Byron – telling his son I implanted false memories in him.

Whatever. At least a small percentage of the population knows what a monster he is. And that will have to suffice.

Byron even tried to go public with his accusation, taking his claim to NBC and CBS News. But of course, since Alfred Gallows is such a powerful man, he had the story killed. No one wants to believe a renegade son who’s exposing the wicked deeds of one of the world’s most important men. He keeps the economy running and that’s why they need him.

Sometimes I wonder if Byron is backing off in the relationship because he thinks I don’t want him anymore. That I was only attracted to his money and his fame. Although I didn’t even know who he was at first!

I don’t know. But at least he knows we’re friends for life, regardless of what happens next. I take joy in knowing that I was an important part of his life and he confided so deeply in me. It’s the sort of meaningful friendship that’s more important than sex. Even though I really do miss the sex, oh yes, I really do. I’m actually very happy to have been part of his growth and his maturing into a fine, decent and moral man. That’s really all that matters in life anyway.

To my surprise, instead of going to coffee with mother, I have been whisked away to a very special dinner date with Byron Gallows. He practically begged me to come with him, as he made plans to talk with a very old friend of his. One of his many “compartmentalized friends”, or categories of friends, that he needed for various purposes at one time.

Ironically, now he has no need of his friend or more to the point. Simeon Hollock, the world’s famous fantasy novelist, has no need of Byron’s friendship. But to Byron’s pleasant surprise, Simeon still wanted to meet with him. Yes, even though Byron had no power or fame to speak of, and even though Alfred practically blacklisted us from mingling with all the other A-list celebrities.

Simeon was a charismatic man and very polite when he shook hands with both of us.

“I’m honored that you decided to meet with me,” Byron says, a humble tone in his voice.

“Sure, we’re friends, aren’t we?” Simeon says with a laugh.

“How’s your girlfriend?”

“Oh, I actually got married last summer. We sent you an invitation.”

“Sorry, I was busy…”

“Don’t worry. We really didn’t expect you to come.”

“Well, I guess we might as well broach the subject. My father cut me out of the inheritance. I don’t have a pot to piss in anymore.”

“You still have all those shares in Calem Limited, don’t you?”

“Yeah. But that’s nothing to write home about.”

“So, what really happened, Byron? Is it true what they say?”

“What do they say?”

“Well, that you had a falling out over some Mexican immigrants. Your father was open borders and you were a build-the-wall supporter.”

“That’s bullshit,” laughs Bryon. “It had nothing to do with politics. My father always liked to spin the story, didn’t he?”

“What was it? I’m dying to know.”

“My father’s an evil man, Simeon.”

“Really?”

“Not just politically evil or whatever they say about him. He’s a cold, calculating, violent murderer.”

“What? Your father is a murderer?”

“He murdered my mother. Probably many other people who got in his way. I know for a fact he murdered my mother because I recalled the memory recently. I confronted him with the truth, caught him in a lie and guess what happened.”

“Wow,” Simeon says, surprisingly not in too much disbelief. “So the stories are true.”

“What stories?”

“Well, they’ve been spreading all over the Internet for quite some time. Stories that your father has a dark past. That he’s part of a sinister organization. Murders, sex rituals…”

“The sex rituals part, yeah. That’s definitely true. We were there.” He smiles at me and I nervously glance back. “Err, as spectators only.”

“Kinky,” Simeon says with a nod. “Byron, do you realize how much people would eat this story up, if you came forward? People are just dying to hate your father. He’s already the most hated man in the world by ill-reputation alone. Exposing his secret sins would be scandalous. You’d probably make six figures instantly, just by signing a book deal.”

“Well, that’s the problem. I’ve tried. No one in the media will believe me. It’s my word against his.”

“Oh my God. Byron, don’t you feel it? The gold mine we’re sitting on top of. If we took down Alfred Gallows, there would be world-changing consequences. It would be news for years on end, even decades.”

“For better or worse?”

“For better. According to what I’ve read, he’s been monopolizing hundreds of different industries. Suppressing reporters, burying accusations. Intimidating witnesses. I always thought it was hear-say until you confirmed it.”

“But how can you trust me?” Byron says.

“Because…you’re a friend. That’s what friends do. And besides, you’ve never lied about anything. No one’s ever caught you in a lie. All they’ve said about you is that you hate immigrants.”

“That’s a lie!” Byron says.

“Well, that and also you lay with lots of women.”

“Well…that part was true.”

“And that you carry several STDs.”

“That’s NOT true! Jesus Christ, the tabloids. My father is such a lying prick.”

“So,” I finally interrupt, laughing with the boys. “Since we know all that shit is a lie and since we both have the records to prove it. What do you think we can do about it? To bring this fucker down?”

“If I could just get an interview in a magazine…but no one returns my calls.”

“How about I write an article on behalf of you? Telling the real story about Alfred Gallows? I could vouch for your reputation. They have to listen to me. I’ve been on the NYT bestseller list for 200 weeks.”

Byron’s face lights up. He almost looks like he’s going to cry. “Simeon…that would be so great. I would owe you one forever. I would owe you…”

“No, nobody owes me anything. The truth is always revealed. That’s just nature, that’s just the order of the universe, my friend. Whatever you’re hiding, it’s going to come out eventually. I found that out myself, the hard way, not too long ago.”

Byron nods respectfully, sucking up to Simeon. But more than anything, he’s relieved. The idea that he could be vindicated. That he could get a second chance, brings his passion back to life.

But in my mind, it’s not a second chance. Byron never did anything wrong. It’s just his time to shine. He’s earned this. And this time, no one’s going to take it from him.

Alfred Gallows – Extortionist, Blackmailer, Tax Evader and Murderer

---

The headline was dynamite all right! Simeon Hollock was thorough, as he always is in his fiction. But for his expose on Alfred Gallows, he crossed every T and dotted every I. He provided an abundance of named sources and references and connected the dots. The fact that Simeon Hollock grabbed hold of that story made it official, gave it clout. They couldn’t dismiss it as conspiracy theory because Simeon did the research and reviewed year by year, the full number of crimes Alfred was accused of, and how he paid major news outlets to bury the story.

He embarrassed not only Alfred but also every news organization who cowardly suppressed those accusations. And as we all know, embarrassment is one of the primal forces of motivation in humankind.

As soon as the story was printed, every internet magazine and periodical – hell, every blog and tweet, were all asking questions about Alfred. Questions that everyone had heard, but no one actually investigated because it was conspiracy talk, at least it all was, until now.

From that article, numerous witnesses came forward, now with public protection and national attention. Alfred was even accused of rape and murder by other victims. Now the media was listening. People were standing up for truth and justice.

Alfred had nowhere to go, but into hiding. Evidence of his tax evasion was sure to get the IRS all over his ass. Crimes of conspiracy, blackmail, and extortion were already being investigated.

But the one thing they couldn’t prove was the murder charge. And of all the crimes, that was the one that mattered most to Byron.

The second time he went to meet his father, he insisted I stay behind because of the slight risk of an altercation. He wasn’t sure whether he’d punch his father out or if dad would go postal on him. But he needed this. He needed one more meeting just to add a little well-deserved insult to injury.

I heard about what happened a day later, and boy am I sorry I missed it. But as I understand it… Byron waltzed into his father’s office, looking as smug and as dastardly as possible. He sat down across from the old man and smiled like it was the first day of college.

“How dare you come in here! What makes you think I’m going to let you leave?”

“Oh, you probably won’t,” Byron said. “I’m sure the last thing you want to do, before you’re sent to the slammer is to kill me. God knows you never loved me. I was just a tool, a mess you had to clean up.”

“You won’t win,” Alfred said, getting up from his chair and opening his desk drawer, probably going to grab a gun. “I could kill you right now and bury you in the forest and no one would miss you. You think that hack Hollock is going to do any lasting damages? All I have to do is fund another anti-Trump campaign and the media will be sucking my cock all over again. And then what happens to you?”

“You know it doesn’t matter. I just came here to say one thing. I’m going to ask Laura to marry me. That same woman you hate, that same woman who arguably destroyed your empire. And when your murderous ass is thrown in jail, I’m going to inherit everything. Every last penny. Because right at that moment, I’ll be vindicated. And I’ll make my case to the stockholders personally. They’ll believe me. Because they’ll quickly discover the truth that I’ve never lied. And you, old man, you made a career out of it.”

“You son of a bitch…”

“I guess I wouldn’t know, how much of a bitch my real mother was. But I know Caitlynn’s a bitch since she covered up the murder too. Your accomplice, as they call it. She’s going away for a long time too. It’s all over, dad.”

Alfred huffed and puffed and frantically looked for his gun, eager to murder his own flesh and blood and satiate that pirate bloodlust in him.

“Don’t bother,” Byron said. “I mean you could try to threaten me. Try to make me grovel for my life. But deep down, I know you’re too cowardly to shoot a man in the face. You always get someone to do your dirty work for you, don’t you?”

“Like shit, you motherfucker! I murdered your cunt of a mother standing right in front of your retarded little face!”

“I know you did, dad. And now the NYPD knows. And the whole world knows.”

Byron reached into his pocket and pulled out a microphone, wiping that angry glare right off Alfred’s face and turning it inside out. The old man went pale and started weeping like a bitch, right as the cops invaded his office and arrested him.

It was a wonderful scene and yet something only Byron was privileged to witness in person. But he earned it. A lifetime of broken trust, and now complete vindication. I can only imagine how good it must have felt, in that moment, when he finally got everything back. Not just the money and prestige, but his honor. His moral compass. His faith in humanity.

The country, the world, rejoiced with Byron Gallows. He was the redemption of his family name.

It’s a boring, uneventful day at the grocery store. I can hardly wait for it to be over. Sure, it’s Christmas Eve, and I should be at home celebrating with somebody or something. At least, finishing off a glass of wine!

Part of me is a little disappointed I’m not making love in a mansion or traveling the world with a certain someone. But just as well. Maybe now I can process all my disappointment and mucked up emotions and finally get the fuck over it. I’m so happy for Byron, I am. But it doesn’t hurt a little bit that he’s so busy and so vindicated that he hardly has time for me anymore.

Even though, you know, I was willing to stand by his side and love him, even without his fortune. Now that he’s the new billionaire and CEO of twenty different companies, I guess he’s just too important to remember the woman that caressed his ego and made him whole again.

But whatever. I did the right thing and I can be happy with that.

Just as I start to get into my car, I notice a Honda backing up way too fast. If this asshole comes any closer, he’s going to go right into my trunk!

“HEY ASSHOLE! Back up! Back the fuck up!”

And behold, as I stare angrily at the window…guess who’s face pops up?

“Byron!” I laugh. “What the fuck are you doing? Trying to hit my car?”

“I admit…I like to see you at your worst. When you’re pissed off and swearing, it turns me on.”

“Now that’s just sick!”

I watch in disbelief as Byron leaves his car in the park, in the worst possible spot, blocking traffic, and gets out. He stands in front of me gesturing wildly and bubbling up with emotion.

“Laura listen, I know I’ve been busy lately. And there were times when I felt like saying something to you, but I didn’t. The truth is, I had no idea what to say to you.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” I say with a smile. “You don’t owe me anything.”

“No, I don’t owe you a damned thing. But I’m in love with you, Laura. I’ve been in love with you for a long time now.”

My heart sinks and I listen with wide eyes.

“It was never the right time. It never felt like the right time. There was always something wrong, there was always a doubt. Not about me loving you, but about whether I could handle this. Whether I could treat you like the saint you are, the beautiful person you are. You deserve the best. The very best in life. And for a long time, I wasn’t sure that I was the best. I was rich and soulless. Then I was poor and inconsequential. But even at that moment, Laura, when I got it all back and when I brought my father down once and for all, all I saw was you.”

My eyes water and I nod, dropping my groceries at the store and grabbing onto his neck in excitement. I don’t know if he’s going to propose, or just tell me he loves me, or just fuck me in the middle of the parking lot. I have no idea. But all I feel is my heart beating with his.

“I did it all for you. I just wanted you to love me. You saved me. You made my life better. You healed everything inside me. And I thought it was only appropriate to propose to you, now, on Christmas Eve. Because now, my warm family memories of Christmas are all wrapped up with you. I want to make a real memory this time. I want to celebrate Christmas with you, with your family. The only real family I’ve ever had.”

“I’d love to celebrate Christmas with you,” I say, mewling into my hands and crying my eyes out. For the first time in so many years, crying so hard, releasing the pent-up emotion I had locked away for safe keeping. There was no longer a reason to doubt, to protect, or to hide. He wants my everything, my complete honesty, my real heart. And I can’t deny him anything, not even my silly tears of joy.

“Wait,” he says, as he kneels down to one knee and pulls out a box. Oh God! I hope those aren’t really expensive earrings.

“Laura Katt, will you marry me?”

“YES!” I sing, through a cracking voice and quivering breath.

“Will you marry me tomorrow?”

“What?”

“I don’t want to wait. I don’t want a big fancy wedding, surrounded by shareholders, fake friends, and celebrities. I don’t need their validation, I never did. I honestly don’t know any of those people. I just want you. I want to take you to a small ceremony, just you and your mother, and get married right now. No more waiting, no more chance of losing you because of a misunderstanding. I’ve learned that public displays, all that showoff lifestyle, it’s not me. I just want to feel something that’s real. And this is real.”

“Yes!” I say excitedly hugging and kissing him with all my might. We break the kiss and I gaze into his eyes, intoxicated with the thrill of finding true love, so late in life, after hanging on for so long…but it was for a reason. And it was worth the wait.

“I don’t care about any of it. I never cared about the money. I just wanted you. I wanted to believe again. I wanted to believe in love and you made it real for me. I love you, Byron! I’ve loved you for a long time. And now you’re mine.”

“I love you! You’re my Christmas Miracle, Laura Katt.”