Page 25 of The Interview

With my gut churning and my heart pounding, I pause and close my eyes again against the guilt that, almost forty years later, still has the potential to eat me alive.

My sister’s hand finds mine yet again.

“I knew,” I choke out. “Through the drugs and the alcohol, my age and inexperience, my overblown ego… despite all of that clouding my judgment, I fucking knew what I was doing to mytwo best mates was fucking wrong, that what I was doing would fucking destroy them, but George.” I turn and look at my sister once more. She’s staring straight ahead, unable to look at me as silent tears track down her cheeks. “I knew. I fucking knew, and I didn’t care.”

Georgia lets out a sound that’s hurt and grief and anger. It’s the sound of a betrayal someone has buried for decades, and it cleaves me in fucking half.

The whole room is suddenly in motion, and I wait, head bowed, for someone to deliver the blow I know I deserve.

I feel movement around me, but Georgia’s hand remains firmly in mine as another lands on my shoulder and squeezes.

“When they’re ready to carry on, I’ve got a few things to say if that’s all right with everyone?” Lennon says behind me.

Hands gently rest on either side of my face, and I know they belong to Ash without even looking up. I bury my face in her neck—the best, most beautiful neck in the world—and I breathe her in. Her scent, her touch, her presence, all calm me without her even saying a word.

“I’m okay. Honestly, my tears are more out of anger than anything,” I hear Georgia say beside me.

I finally lift my head and look into the blue-brown eyes of my wife.

“You good?” she asks, her brows drawn down in a frown.

“Not even a little bit,” I tell her honestly.

“You okay to carry on?”

“Not really, but I’m gonna. What that pair of fuckers did nearly ended all of us at the time. I want the truth out there now. I want the world to know what they did, what they stole from Maca.”

“Marls?” My sister’s voice sounds scratchy when she says my name, her eyes finally ready to meet mine once more. “It’s okay if you don’t want to.”

Cam is kneeling in front of her, a bottle of water in hand. I look between them, but his eyes are firmly fixed on Georgia.

“If you’ve got the balls to sit here and listen, then I’ve got the balls to sit here and say the words,” I tell her.

She smiles, and I take that in before I notice the tears caught on her lashes.

“I love you, and I’m so fucking sorry,” I tell her.

“I know. I know you are, and he knew, too.”

I make a snorting sound—a laugh to disguise a sob. “You sure?”

“Hundred percent, babe,” she says in her best Essex accent, and we both smile.

“We all know G’s balls are bigger than ours. I don’t know why you’re doubting her,” Len adds from where he’s now standing in front of me, having his hair zhuzhed and some kind of makeup applied under his eyes and on his nose.

“Fuck off,” I tell him politely. “What are you doing here, anyway? Just can’t help yourself, can ya? Gotta get in on the action,” I say jokingly, but Len snaps his head back as if I’ve just physically struck him.

“I’m actually here to clarify a few things about what happened in Paris… but I cannotdo that if that’s what you’d prefer?” The hurt in his voice makes me feel like an absolute tool.

“Dude, I’m joking. Pull up your big girl knickers, get your makeup fixed, and come join us on the confessions couch.”

Ash kisses my cheek. “Love you, Rock Star,” she says before standing.

“Love you, baby,” I reply.

Everyone moves away from where the three of us are now seated, and the room falls silent once more. During all of this, Dan hasn’t moved. He has his notepad and pen in hand, andwith his head tilted, he scribbles away on it before looking up at us.

“We good?” he asks.