Coward.
Hero-worship shattered in real time.
But nothing softens. If anything, it gets worse.
People don’t know the full story, but still, they screenshot headlines. They pull fragments out of context and hurl them like weapons. The wordshit-and-runspread faster than anything else, blotting out nuance, swallowing explanation whole. My name trends alongside words such ascoward,liar,privileged. Every screen I pass flashes some version of it back at me.
Before I can even process the scale of it, a hand grips my elbow.
“Now,” Laura from PR says tightly. “Conference room.”
I don’t argue. I don’t have the energy. I follow them down the corridor like I’m being marched to sentencing, past closed doors and lowered voices, past teammates who look at me with a mix of concern and shock they don’t try to hide. Ryan shouts out to me, I can’t make it out exactly, but I’m pretty sure it’s not words of support.
Coach is already there when I walk in. He’s flanked by the team management and Hannah from the legal department avoids my gaze. I glance across to the two other PR reps with their laptops open and phones buzzing relentlessly. The room smells of coffee and stress.
The door shuts loudly behind me.
“Sit,” Coach says.
I do.
For a moment, no one speaks. They’re all looking at me like they’re waiting for something. An explanation, a defence, a miracle even. I can’t offer them anything at the minute. Somehow my voice won’t work.
Laura breaks the silence. “We need your version. All of it. No gaps. No minimising.”
My mouth opens and nothing comes out. My jaw flaps like some comedy goldfish. The weight of it presses down so hard my vision blurs. My hands curl into fists in my lap, knuckles white. I’ve told this story in fragments before to Lukas, in controlled pieces, but never like this. Never with everything stripped bare.
“I—” My voice cracks. I swallow hard and try again. “I ran the red. I didn’t hit her car, but I caused it. I knew it the second it happened.”
Coach’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t interrupt.
“I stopped for maybe… ten seconds,” I continue, shame crawling up my spine. “I panicked. People were already getting out of their cars. Sirens somewhere in the distance. I thought—fuck, I don’t even know what I thought. I just… drove.”
Silence.
“I couldn’t live with it,” I say hoarsely. “I went to the hospital the next day after I saw it reported on the news that she wasn’t badly injured, nobody was. That’s how I found her. I didn’t know who she was. I just needed to know she was alive. I couldn’t believe the news reports until I’d seen her with my own eyes.”
PR types furiously.
“And then?” management prompts.
“And then I fell in love with her,” I say, the words tearing out of me before I can stop them. “And I didn’t tell her the truth because I was terrified that if she knew, she’d never look at me the same way again.”
My chest caves in. I drag a hand over my face, breathing hard now, control slipping fast.
“I broke things off with Talia because I knew I had feelings for Rose. It wasn’t fair to string either of them along. That’s not who I am. Anyway, Talia found out, about Rose I mean,” I add.
I turn to Laura, almost pleading. “You know how Talia’s been since we split and she found out about Rose. She’s been posting stuff on her social media sites relentlessly. Taunting Rose andmaking out I wanted her back when that wasn’t… isn’t the case at all.”
I take a deep breath and try to steady my heartrate a little. “Talia threatened me. She said if I didn’t tell Rose about the accident, she would. She came to my flat last night.”
Coach exhales slowly, rubbing his temples.
Mark, Laura’s colleague, looks up. “Did Rose know any of this before today?”
“No, nothing about my involvement in the accident anyway,” I say. The words weigh a ton. “She saw Talia leaving my flat last night. She thinks I cheated. She won’t answer my calls.”
Something in me finally breaks.
