Page 92 of Expose on the Ice

The media.

The fans

Even me.

We’d all wanted our pound of flesh, never stopping to consider the man behind the headlines. I’m just as guilty as the rest, if not more so, and it wracks me with guilt. In my relentless pursuit of the story, I’d forgotten that Carter was more than just a subject – he was a person with feelings, fears, and a haunting past.

We’d all been so caught up in the thrill of the chase, the excitement of uncovering the next big scoop, that we’d failed to see the toll it was taking on him. The media circus, the constant scrutiny, the whispers and rumors – Carter had been trapped at the center of it all.

I pause, my vision blurring slightly as I reread what I’ve written. It isn’t perfect – far from it. But it’s honest. Real. It’s every word of the truth as I know it, and what I think is the real story Carter deserves to have told.

My phone buzzes, startling me out of my focus. A text from Jess:

"Are you okay, babe? Need anything?"

I smile, grateful for her support. I type back quickly:

"I’m good. Just writing. The real story this time."

I turn back to my laptop, determination renewed. There’s still so much to say, so many misconceptions to correct. I crack my knuckles and dive back in, the words flowing faster now.

This is more than just a story. It’s a reckoning, a chance to set things right. For Carter, for me, for everyone who’s been caught up in this mess. It might not repair us, but it will finally tell the whole truth.

As I write, I feel a spark of the old passion that had drawn me to journalism. But I have no idea how Carter will react when he reads this. Will he be angry? Hurt? Relieved? There’s only one way to find out.

I keep writing, pouring everything I have onto the page.

Until it’s done.

Hours later, I stare at my laptop screen, my finger hovering over the ‘Publish’ button. My heart is pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat. This is it. The moment of truth. The story that could make or break everything.

My career.

My relationship with Carter.

Maybe even his future.

With a trembling hand, I click ‘Publish.’

The article goes live, and I feel a rush of adrenaline course through my body. It’s done. No turning back now. I lean back in my chair, running my hands through my hair.

The weight of what I’ve just done hits me like a ton of bricks. I’ve laid it all out there – Carter’s past, the accident, the cover-up, my role in this mess. Everything.

Is it a mistake?

Have I made things worse?

My phone buzzes, startling me. It’s a text from Jess:

"Holy shit, Lil. Just read your piece. Are you okay?"

I smile weakly, typing back:

"I think so. No idea what happens next."

I glance around my apartment, taking in the half-packed boxes scattered everywhere. It’s like my life is suspended between two possible futures – one where I’d rush to Carter’s side, and another where I’d leave this all behind.

My eyes fall on a framed photo of Carter and me, taken at that charity event that feels like a lifetime ago. We looked so happy, so carefree. God, I miss him. I pick up my phone again, my thumb hovering over Carter’s contact. Should I call him? Text him? Or wait for him to reach out? I decide I have to let it go, for now.