30. Heidi
HEIDI
“We want you, Heidi,” a high-energy voice says through the phone.
I have it wedged between my ear and shoulder while I scrub dried cereal off Clara’s kitchen table.
“A feature-length documentary,” they continue. “The Real Reality of Romance. Given your perspective, it would be perfect. We’d tie in the hashtag—show the whole thing unfolding in real-time.”
“Hashtag?” I pause mid-scrub.
“#ForgiveMeHeidi.”
“Right,” I say slowly. “Email me the details. I’ll take a look.”
I end the call and stare at the phone. That’s the second pitch this afternoon.
The first was a true-crime style deep dive into workplace betrayal.
I turned that one down immediately. I shouldn’t be picky, but it felt like signing up to narrate my own funeral.
I’m not interested in helping someone else profit from the wreckage of my reputation.
I type #ForgiveMeHeidi into the search bar. I’ve been avoiding the internet for days, but the curiosity is a physical itch now.
The results load. The first video is an interview with Max from a couple of hours ago.
I watch it. Then I watch it again.
By the time I start scrolling through the comments, it feels like stepping into a current. The hashtag is everywhere. Sixteen thousand mentions in the last hour. The tone has shifted. What started as a scandal has turned into something else entirely.
As the interview plays for the third time—Max calmly taking the blame for every single thing—Clara’s voice makes me jump.
“It’s romantic,” she says. She’s leaning in the doorway with her arms crossed, scrolling through her own phone. “Unhinged. But romantic.”
“It’s…” I trail off. I can’t find the word.
It is romantic. Instead of deflecting, he’s stepping straight into the line of fire. He isn’t telling the whole truth—he’s definitely exaggerating how long I held out—but he’s rewriting the story to protect me.
Clara glances up. “Your career might not be dead after all.”
“Maybe not,” I whisper.
Tears sting my eyes. “I’ve been so stupid.”
Clara raises an eyebrow. “You’re just figuring that out now?”
I barely hear her. If the price of being with Max is my reputation, I’ll pay it. I should have known that days ago. If loving him costs me my career, I’ll stand back and watch it burn. Because for the first time in my life, I’m not producing the story. I’m living it.