The viewer count skyrocketed as I gathered cotton pads and makeup remover from my dresser. My hands weren’t shaking anymore. There was something almost freeing in finally saying it out loud.
Luckily, Axel’s deal had already been inked. After the disaster at dinner, Frank and Carl had reached out to him. Not to back out, but to check on me after what happened. When Axel apologized for the evening, he’d apparently been completely honest about his feelings for me, how much he wanted this to work between us.
But then he’d shifted gears. He told them he understood if they had reservations about him personally, but that he’d never let the vulnerable people in the prison system down. This wasn’t just business to him. The passion fueled everything he did, and something about his raw honesty in that moment convinced them the opportunity was too solid to pass up.
Especially when they went over the numbers again. Plus, they’d gotten an unsettling glimpse of Mathew that night. The way he’d baited Axel, that calculated malice in his smile. Oh, and let’s not forget hiring a PI. Holy creepy. They’d started asking questions about their new employee, and apparently, they didn’t love what they were hearing.
In any case, I didn’t have to worry about sabotaging Axel’s deal with what I was about to do. If not for that, I might not have the courage to do the right thing.
“I’ve been lying to everyone,” I continued, dipping a pad in makeup remover and bringing it to my eye. The cold liquid seeped through my lashes. “I did it because the repercussions of my mistake weren’t confined to me. They put my family in jeopardy, and I was willing to do whatever it took to protect them.”
I dragged the cotton across my eyelid, watching as the expertly applied shadow transferred from my face to the white pad, now smeared with bronze and gold and black.
“But I went about it all wrong. What I should have done was simply come online, apologize, and accept whatever consequences came my way. You all deserved honesty, not a cover-up.”
With one eye completely bare, I grabbed a fresh pad for the other. The asymmetry of my reflection was jarring: half the carefully constructed Dakota Fox, half the woman beneath.
The viewer count had surged to 55,000. My iPad pinged relentlessly.
“The truth is, I’ve known Axel for a long time.” My voice softened at his name, an involuntary tell I hoped no one would notice. “The night I posted that picture of him online, I never meant to post it publicly. But that doesn’t change that it was mean-spirited, fueled by alcohol and jealousy.”
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to continue.
“I was jealous that Axel was giving that woman attention. I was jealous because I wanted to be that woman.” The admission burned my throat like whiskey. “Rather than admit that to myself or my friends, it was easier and less painful to tell myself that he was a bad guy. A playboy with no heart.”
My makeup-free eyes stared back at me from the screen, vulnerable and exposed.
“It was a narrative I’d told myself for longer than I can remember.”
I grabbed the phone holder and brought it into the bathroom with me, propping it on the counter. The harsh angle of lighting was merciless, highlighting every pore, every freckle, every slight discoloration I normally concealed.
“If this public relations nightmare had only impacted me,” I said, running water over a washcloth, “I’d like to tell youthat I would’ve done the right thing, taken responsibility, and apologized.”
The cloth turned warm in my hands as I worked soap into a lather. I pressed it against my face, feeling the weight of it against my skin.
“But the truth is, I don’t know what I would’ve done,” I admitted, my voice partially muffled by the cloth. “I’ve spent years creating this social media company, and I don’t know if I would’ve had the courage to take responsibility if doing so jeopardized everything I’d built.”
I scrubbed the skin around my lips, feeling the cool air against my wet skin like a baptism in honesty. Foundation transferred to the white cloth, staining it the artificial tan that I’d passed off as my natural complexion.
“Regardless, my mistake hurt Axel. It hurt my family. And it jeopardized their businesses.” I met my increasingly bare face in the mirror, forcing myself not to flinch. “To all of my viewers, companies I’ve worked with, to Axel, to my family and friends, I sincerely apologize.”
I moved the cloth down to my neck, where the line between my makeup and natural skin had always been carefully blended. Now, that separation was exposed, a literal line between truth and fiction.
“Once the lie started, others started building on top of it like a house of cards, and suddenly, I felt like there was no way out.” My voice cracked, and I cleared my throat. “My family has been through a lot, and if my social media business failed, it would affect them.” I wiped my face dry with a clean towel, patting gently at skin that felt raw and new. Moving my phone holder back to the dresser and the unforgiving light, I sat down, letting the shadows reveal the darker side of me I’d kept hidden.
“There’s one more thing you don’t know about me.” I sucked in a breath, steeling myself, “My name isn’t Dakota Fox. It’s Dakota Blackwood. My brother is in prison for murder.”
The comment notification sound became a constant drone, reactions flooding in like a ruptured dam, but I couldn’t bring myself to look at them. My heart pounded in my ears, nearly drowning out my own voice.
“My brother’s story is his own, but from early on, I assumed if people knew that about me, they’d never accept me.” I dug crescents into my palms.
The words tumbled out faster now, as if the first confession had broken something open inside me and all the ugly truths I’d hoarded were spilling free. Each admission felt like peeling off another layer of armor I’d worn so long, it had fused to my skin.
“Regardless of where my fear started, it doesn’t change what I did. It gives me no excuse. I should never have taken that picture of Axel to begin with. I was being snarky and mean.”
I pushed a stray strand of hair from my face, tucking it behind my ear.
“Because that’s the truth. I am nice and kind and giving, and I can also be flawed.” The admission felt like setting down a weight I’d carried for years.
