Chapter 4 The Unfolding Storm

After assuring Marcus he was safe and would be in touch soon, Edwin ended the call. He looked up to find Lance watching him, a sympathetic expression on his face.

"Sounds like you've got a lot to deal with," the quarterback said.

Edwin nodded, feeling the weight of the world settling back onto his shoulders. "I don't even know where to start. My whole life is falling apart, and I can't even remember why."

Lance stood, stretching his athletic frame. "Alright, here's the plan. You should go get freshened up – there's a bathroom down the hall. I'll find you some clean clothes to change into."

As Edwin followed Lance's directions, gratitude washed over him for this unexpected ally. Whatever came next, at least he wasn't facing it alone.

After a quick shower that helped clear his head, Edwin emerged feeling slightly more human. Lance had left a pile of clothes outside the bathroom door – a soft t-shirt and comfortable sweatpants that were a bit too large but welcome nonetheless.

"Feeling better?" Lance asked as Edwin made his way back to the living room.

Edwin nodded, managing a weak smile. "Much. Thank you."

"Great. Now, how about we get something to eat? You must be starving."

As if on cue, Edwin's stomach growled audibly, reminding him that he hadn't eaten since... when? The charity gala? It felt like a lifetime ago.

While Lance busied himself in the kitchen, Edwin's gaze fell on his phone, which he'd left on the coffee table. The screen was lit up with notifications – missed calls, texts, voicemails. A digital record of his world falling apart.

Lance noticed his hesitation. "You should probably start dealing with those," he said gently. "I know it's not going to be pleasant, but ignoring it won't make it go away."

Edwin sighed, knowing Lance was right. "Yeah, I know. I just... I don't even know where to start."

"Start with whoever you trust most," Lance suggested, setting a plate of sandwiches on the table. "Eat something first, though. Everything seems worse on an empty stomach."

As Edwin reached for a sandwich, his mind drifted to Kimberly. His best friend, who had stood by him through every up and down of his career, was lying in a hospital bed, unaware of the chaos unfolding in Edwin's life. The thought brought a fresh wave of loneliness and guilt.

"I should call the hospital," Edwin said suddenly. "Check on Kimberly."

Lance nodded encouragingly. "That sounds like a good place to start."

With trembling fingers, Edwin picked up his phone. As he dialed the hospital's number, he made a silent promise to his friend.

I'll make it up to you, Kim. Somehow, I'll make all of this right.

With that thought steeling his resolve, Edwin prepared himself to face the flood of messages and the uncertain future that lay ahead, grateful for the unexpected support of his new acquaintance.

**************

The rhythmic sound of waves crashing against the shore provided a radical difference to the turmoil in Edwin's mind as he sat in Lance's beach house. Having just ended a call to the hospital about Kimberly, Edwin prepared himself for an even more daunting conversation. He took a deep breath, his eyes lingering on the ring adorning his finger, guilt etched across his features. With a quivering hand, he dialed Laura's number, bracing himself for what was to come.

Before Laura could answer, Lance's phone rang. The quarterback excused himself, stepping out onto the balcony to take the call.

"Laura," Edwin said as soon as his fiancée picked up, but he was immediately cut off by her panicked voice.

"Edwin! Oh my God, Edwin! Is it true? What were you thinking?" Laura's words came out in a rush, choked with tears. "Sleeping with another woman? And hurting her? The news... it's everywhere. I can't... I don't know if I can handle this."

Edwin's heart clenched at the pain in her voice. "Baby, please, listen to me," he said, trying to keep his own voice steady. "None of it is true. I swear to you, I didn't do any of those things."

"But they're saying... the evidence..."

"I know what they're saying," Edwin said softly. "But Baby, you know me. You know us. I love you. I would never do anything to jeopardize what we have. Please, you have to trust me."

There was a long pause, filled only by Laura's muffled sobs. "I want to believe you, Edwin. I do. But this is all so overwhelming."

"I know, my love. I'm so sorry you're going through this. We'll get through it together, I promise. Just... please don't give up on us."

After a few more minutes of reassurances, Edwin managed to calm Laura down. As he ended the call, he felt emotionally drained but relieved that she was at least willing to hear him out.

With a heavy sigh, Edwin reached for the remote and flicked on the television. Immediately, his own face filled the screen.

"Breaking news: Hollywood star Edwin Kasper accused of assault..."

"A-list actor Edwin Kasper taken into custody..."

"Shocking allegations surface against beloved movie star..."

Edwin sat frozen, his eyes glued to the screen as clips from his movies and red carpet appearances were interspersed with speculation about the alleged assault. Reporters stood outside his home, the police station, even his favorite coffee shop, eager for any scrap of information.

"This is insane," Edwin muttered, running a hand through his hair.

Just then, Lance walked back into the room, his call apparently finished. He took in the scene – Edwin's tense posture, the flashing images on the TV – and his expression softened with concern.

"How are you holding up?" Lance asked, settling onto the couch next to Edwin.

Edwin shook his head, his eyes still fixed on the screen. "I don't know. It's all so surreal. They're talking about me like..."

"Like you're already guilty," Lance finished for him, his tone grim.

Edwin nodded, finally tearing his gaze away from the TV to look at Lance. "Exactly. And the worst part is, I still can't remember anything. What if... what if they're right?"

Lance placed a reassuring hand on Edwin's shoulder and before he could speak, Edwin's phone buzzed again, Marcus Goldstein's name flashing on the screen. With a deep breath, Edwin answered.

"Marcus, I-"

"Listen, we need to get ahead of this. The press is having a field day, and your silence is only fueling the speculation."

Edwin closed his eyes, feeling more depression washing over him. "What do you suggest?"

"We need to hold a press conference," Marcus said firmly. "First thing tomorrow morning. Give an official statement, show that you're cooperating with the authorities, appeal to your fans for support."

The thought of facing the media made Edwin's stomach churn, but he knew Marcus was right. "Okay," he agreed. "Tomorrow morning. But Marcus... what am I going to say? I still don't remember anything."

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "We'll figure it out, Edwin. We always do. For now, just... try to get some rest. I'll have a car pick you up at 7 AM. Text me the address."

After ending the call, Edwin turned to Lance. "I hope you don't mind, but I need to leave early tomorrow. Press conference."

Lance nodded understandingly. "Of course. Whatever you need."

Edwin's gaze drifted back to the TV, where a montage of his career highlights played, jarringly juxtaposed against mugshot-like photos from earlier that day. The difference was crystal clear– the polished, charismatic actor the world knew versus the haggard, shell-shocked man he'd become in a matter of hours.

"How did everything go so wrong so fast?" Edwin whispered, more to himself than to Lance.

Lance sat down next to him, his presence oddly comforting for someone Edwin had only just met. "I don't know, man. But listen, whatever happened – or didn't happen – you can't let them crucify you in the court of public opinion. Tomorrow, you go out there and you tell your truth."

Edwin nodded, trying to draw strength from Lance's words. But as he stared at his own face on the screen, he couldn't shake the gnawing doubt in his gut. What if he couldn't remember his truth? What if the person he saw in those mugshots was capable of something he couldn't even fathom?

As the night wore on, Edwin tried to prepare himself for the media circus that awaited him. But in the back of his mind, a small voice whispered a terrifying question: What if he was guilty after all?