Page 106 of Dr. Bad Boy

She shakes her head. “No. I’d hoped for children one day. We hadn't talked about it because I didn't think it would be now.”

"So how are you so sure that I need to be cut out of the picture?" Damn it, I need to control that biting tone.

She frowns. "I never said anything about cutting you out of anything. I just…no expectations. Because we didn't talk about whatIwant since it wasn't that strong either way." She touches her belly and it's like a knife through my guts. "But even though that wasn't what our relationship was about—"

I hold up my hand. Enough with the fucking past tense. "Is about. Wehavea relationship and itisabout shit, got it?"

She presses her lips together and nods shakily. "Okay. Even though…this…isn't what our relationship is about, I still heard loud and clear it wasn't what you wanted."

Fuck. Cold fear slithers up my spine.

How do I let her inside my head? How do I make her see that what I want and what I fear I'm not capable of are two totally different things?

I have no choice. There’s no way she’s going to understand anything without me giving her some sense of my childhood.

“Can we go sit where it’s more comfortable? Please?”

She nods and I use the moments it takes to walk to the living room to emotionally prepare for what must come next.

She takes the arm chair, adding a distance I naively wasn’t prepared for. I sit on the arm of the sofa. It’s the closest I can get and still leave her some space. I owe her that much.

My gut twists, and I can’t control the resulting grimace. Cocking her head, she lifts an eyebrow and I can’t quite meet her gaze.

After taking a deep breath, I focus my attention on a small blue flower on the fabric of Violet’s chair and begin.

“Once upon a time, there was a cute little boy named Max." My voice cracks and I resist the urge to shut right down. "One day, when he was three, someone told to Max’s parents they should take him to audition for a Zellers commercial. He got the part, and that led to another commercial and another. His parents were beside themselves. It was a dream come true."

I almost choke on the last sentence and I drop my head. Pull it fucking together, Donovan. It's just a damn story, and one she deserves to know. I don’t want to continue telling the story of my fucked up childhood, but if I’m going to have any chance of a future with Violet and our baby, I need to push through to the end—regardless of the painful memories.

"One day, when he was six, a call came from his agent about a part in a CBC sitcom. Max landed that one and spent the next three years juggling school and acting, all the while getting shunted from audition to audition, because his parents had a dream.” I sneer the last bit, because that's the part she really needs to get. It was never my dream, and it never made happy.

"Oh, Max…" she sighs and reaches her hand out, but she's too far away to reach me.

I finally look all the way up at her and her face is soft. Sympathetic. My Violet…I should have told her sooner. I give a small shrug.

“Stage parents. They are a species all their own, you know. I don’t think they start out as fame-hungry parasites, but that’s how they end up. Always looking for the next, better gig. Here and now is never enough."

She nods and presses her lips together. Her message is clear.Keep talking, I'll be quiet.

“Anyway, I never got to do normal kid stuff. There was no hockey, or soccer, or tree climbing. No activities that could risk my career, even temporarily.”

I take a slow, deep breath and close my eyes for a minute. “I was nine when we moved to Hollywood. My parents scored a major coup when I was cast inTanner Harris, PhD. It was an instant hit, and by the second season, I was earning enough to keep my mother in designer clothes and my father in fancy cars." Of course, that wasn’t enough. Instead of getting a break during the Tanner off-season, Max’s parents pushed him into every feature film they could squeeze into his schedule. It's hard to think of myself as that little kid. It's like I had to disassociate myself from the experience to move on and be Max Donovan, independent grown up.

“It didn’t take long before we upgraded to a mansion with full staff, including a nanny. Well, they called her a chaperone, because no eleven year old boy is going to be cool being saddled with a fucking nanny. Anyway, Gracie being hired meant my parents were free to go on fantastic holidays instead of being stuck on set. The closest thing I had to a holiday was the occasional movie that was filmed on location.

“It was still mostly work, but at least the producers tended to arrange some fun stuff for us to do. Us being me and my co-star, Lizzie. And when Gracie was in charge, she often managed to arrange some kid appropriate sightseeing and activities.

“Maybe that’s why I didn’t fight the chaperone-nanny thing too hard. Unlike my parents, she injected some fun into my life. She just did it on the down-low because as far as my parents were concerned, if I wasn’t working, I should be learning lines or preparing for auditions.”

My chest tightens. Gracie bought me my first sketchbook and pencil crayons after she caught me doodling in the margins of a script. I guess she figured I needed more space and colour. “Our secret,” she'd said. She’d barely been with us a week and she’d already figured out my parents weren’t the sort to indulge more than my physical needs.

“Life on and off the Tanner set was…an education. Sex of all sorts was rampant, both consensual and, sadly, coerced. Many in the cast were in their early to mid-twenties—raging hormones, immaturity, and very poor judgement." I slide back into talking about Max in the third person here, because this is fucked up shit and as kinky as we are, I don't want Violet to think any of that is still clinging to me today. "As a result, Max and Lizzie were exposed to far more than was appropriate—even with chaperones present. At least on set, there was some attempt to keep sexual activity discreet. The house parties cast members were required to attend, however…”

I can’t go there right now, either. I need to finish this.

“One day, not long after I turned fourteen, my father informed me that as a young, rising star, I needed protection." The lie turns sour in my mouth still to this day. "And Gracie had been replaced by a bodyguard. Just like that.”

I struggle against the tears that threaten. Even after twenty-five years, the pain of losing her is just as sharp. Gracie had been the first adult to ever treat me like I was more than a meal-ticket.

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