Fractured [SHAWN MENDES]

~29~

Shawn stood at his door holding on to Taryn as if his life depended on it. Having her arms wrapped around his waist made him feel so comforted.

"It's going to be fine," she assured him. "Just tell her what you told me. Be honest and don't overthink."

"I'll try my best. I plan on swinging by the bar later. I've got a session with Paul at one and then I'll give you the run-down of how the interview went."

She reached up and stroked his cheek. "I'm proud of you."

"Thanks for being here for me. You have no idea how bleak things were before I met you."

She wanted to tell him something, but she knew it wasn't the right time. It might never be the right time, actually, so she gave him a deep kiss instead. "I'll see you this afternoon."

"You're going to get your face looked at after your class, right? You promised me you would," he said, partly as an excuse to keep her in his arms a little longer, but mostly because it had really swelled up overnight. Her right eye was partly closed as a result.

"It's just a bad bruise, but if it makes you feel better, then yes. I'll stop by the clinic."

He kissed her on the forehead and she left. After a quick shower, Shawn arranged the pastries on a plate and got out some plates, forks, and napkins, which he placed on the island. Then he got two mugs out of the cupboard since she'd probably want coffee or tea. While he waited for his guest, he paced anxiously around the condo, second guessing inconsequential things like his outfit. He'd opted to go casual with faded jeans and a white t-shirt. Andrew made sure that there would be no accompanying photos, so there was no reason to dress up, but now he was worried that he came across as unprofessional. He was about to swap his shirt out for a light sweater when he heard a knock on the door. He took several deep breaths and went to answer it.

"Hi, Shawn," the thirty-something blonde said as she extended her hand. "Gretchen Lattner."

"Nice to meet you, Gretchen," he lied. There was nothing nice about this. "Come on in."

They walked down the hall to the kitchen.

"Lovely condo. I saw photos when I was researching you, but they don't do this view justice."

"I can't see myself living anywhere else. Can I get you something to drink? I've got some food, if you're hungry."

She smiled warmly. "Black coffee is perfect. I might eat in a bit."

He got her a mug of hot coffee and then made himself one. "Where would you like to do this?"

"That's entirely up to you. I want you to be comfortable, so we can sit in your living room, or we can sit at the table if that suits you better."

Her demeanor was much kinder than he'd expected, and it threw him a little off balance. He'd assumed that someone who planned to eviscerate him in an article would be cold or nasty. "Let's sit on the couch," he suggested.

They got situated and then Gretchen pulled a digital recording device from her purse, along with a small notepad. He'd given many interviews in the past, so he knew this was standard. She hit the record button and a little red light appeared.

"You don't mind if I record this, too, do you?" Shawn asked as he took out his phone and opened his voice memos and pressed the red circle. This was something Andrew had recommended doing.

She looked surprised but nodded that it was fine. "I want to start by saying that you're not on trial. You've already been through that and you served your time and made financial amends for what you did. I was very up-front with Mr. Gertler about my piece. I'm investigating the pervasiveness of toxic masculinity in modern males. My hypothesis is that all men have toxic sides, and that even the best of them can snap and do something to illustrate that. I've spoken with countless experts and the verdict is out about this theory. I'm not going to be able to prove anything with my article, but I do want to make an argument that gets people thinking. Another goal of mine is to help people in relationships see the warning signs in someone who may act out in a toxic way."

She took a long drink of her coffee before continuing. "I'm focusing on you because you are a man who came across as about as non-toxic as someone in the limelight possibly could. You were practically perfect. Then you pushed that car down a hill to hurt your girlfriend, and it made me wonder if you always had a darker side. When Winter came forward about how there had been warning signs, I wanted to pursue the story. I'm here with you today because you deserve the right to tell your side of things."

There was no malice in the way she explained things, but the underlying message was that she intended to prove he'd been toxic from pretty much birth. He'd given this idea a lot of thought and decided to approach the interview in a brutally honest way. "I agree with you," he stated simply.

She quirked an eyebrow. "About what, specifically?"

"I think you are correct that toxic masculinity afflicts all men. We're raised in a society in which most world leaders, CEOs, millionaires, and people in power roles are men. Women still don't get paid the same as men, and that glass ceiling is always hovering above them. How are children, particularly males, going to see this and not internalize it? It's like white privilege; it's so ingrained that it's hard to recognize within ourselves, but we need to acknowledge it, just as men need to acknowledge that their actions are often toxic."

Gretchen squinted her eyes at him thoughtfully. Either he was nothing like the man she thought she was interviewing or he was trying to play her. "So you admit you are toxic?"

"Look...I did something that proves that. I'm not about to sit here and try to convince you of something that's not already very obvious. I gave the car a push, which was a deplorable thing to do. So yes, I'm toxic."

"Do you think you had toxic behaviors prior to that incident?"

Shawn had given this a lot of thought in the last few weeks. "I think I did, but I don't believe I was ever psychologically abusive towards anyone I dated."

"What about physically abusive?" she asked after flipping through her notebook.

Red flags went up in his head. "No. Never. Did someone claim that I was?"

"I don't want to violate the confidentiality of anyone I spoke with."

"You don't have to tell me who, but if an allegation has been made, I deserve to know what it is," he said firmly. His heart was starting to race, but he did his best to remain cool.

"I've spoken to Winter on several occasions and she didn't reveal any new information. I also contacted six other women you dated. Only four of them would talk to me, because the other two said that I was crazy to even consider writing a piece about you being toxic. No one said anything damning, but one of the four that I met with did say that the two of you occasionally engaged in what she referred to as 'rough' sex."

He racked his brain trying to think about what he'd done that was considered rough enough to mention it. He'd smacked more than one woman's ass before and had tied a partner up after they'd talked about trying something new. That was pretty much it. "Did she imply that this was non-consensual, because I have never done anything without making sure it was okay with my partner."

"She said it was consensual, but she said you tended to initiate it. My research says that this can be a dominance move by problematic men, and that it can escalate over time. Have you found yourself wanting more dangerous sex?" she queried.

"No."

"Have you ever left a mark on a partner?"

He really didn't like this line of questions. "I have given women hickeys before."

"No bruises?" she pushed.

"Maybe a thumbprint bruise on a hip or thigh, but I have never intentionally physically harmed anyone I was with," he said slowly and adamantly.

Gretchen stood up and walked into the kitchen where she helped herself to some food. "Maybe this is a good time for a short break."