I felt sick listening to him casually drop his past sufferings into his angry tirade. I could feel my eyes misting at the description of his injuries – a chair leg for spilling his drink? Good God! What else must he have gone through?

I know celebrities sign up for the invasion into their personal lives when they pursue a Hollywood career, but surely there was a line that must be drawn, especially dealing with issues like this.

I heard a heavy, pain-filled sigh and turned to face Tudor. He was staring at me with regret in his eyes and pulled me closer into his embrace. “I’m sorry, gorgeous. I shouldn’t have lost my cool and told you about my past in such a way.”

I sniffed. “Why are you apologising to me?”

“Because I upset you with what I said.”

“That’s because I find it hard to hear how you were treated when you were a child. I can’t stand what he did to you. What he is still doing to you. It’s like he has this hold over you all, I just feel so helpless. I don’t know how to make it better.”

His eyes lost some of their tightness, and he whispered in my ear, “You’re helping me, Sunshine. Just by being you.” He shifted back against the chair, tucking me around his body like a comforter.

Henry coughed to catch his attention. "I'm sick of dealing with all his shit, bro. Tash is right, how long can he possibly do this to us? Maybe if we’re honest and show him to be the scumbag that we know he is, then he'll have to leave us alone, he'll have no hold over us anymore. It might be, I don’t know, freeing."

Samantha, obviously proud of her husband, kissed his cheek and stared at him in adoration. I had a lot of respect for Samantha; she had been supporting Henry for years and was clearly his rock. We had both fallen in love with the brothers North, and we both simply had to help them get through this. We were both strong, modern women, and I was certain that we could all do it – that we could face the situation with poise and dignity. We would make Emmeline Pankhurst proud.

Tudor was once again running his fingers through my hair and nodding gently, taking in the advice from his level-headed older brother. Henry stood and cracked his back, Samantha followed suit and they headed in our direction. He bent down, eye-level with Tudor and laid a hand on his head. “Get some sleep, and we'll figure everything out tomorrow, okay? Today has been trying for us all, and I think we need to let the dust settle for a while, sleep on it."

Tudor pulled him in for a long, manly hug, and Henry winked at me as he walked out of the room, holding his wife’s hand incredibly tightly – maybe he wasn’t as calm as he seemed.

I looked over to Tink, who cocked his head with a tight smile and pointed to the hallway; he was going to bed too, and he took his silent boy with him. We were all staying under one roof tonight – group support to face the trials of tomorrow as a united front.

When everyone was out of the room, I snuggled into Tudor’s chest in front of the fire and peppered kisses along his neck to soothe him. He nuzzled the top of my head and sighed. "What are you thinking?"

"I don't honestly know. I suppose lots of things really: us going public, what Kate will say tomorrow, and of course I'm worried about you."

He guided my head to face him. "Worried about me? Sunshine, your birthday has been ruined by my problems. Just when one nightmare ends, another begins. Why are you putting up with all of this?"

"Oh don't start!" I said a bit too aggressively, and lifted myself from his embrace.

"Start what?" he asked, slightly taken aback at my attitude.

"Blaming yourself. I chose to be with you, babes, knowing everything, and still you apologise? Your father is the one to blame, not you. I love you and you don’t abandon the people you love when things get tough. In fact, it’s love that gets people through unsteady waters unharmed. I’m not going anywhere and you need to get that through your dense noggin, butch boy!”

His lip curled in amusement at my ‘dense noggin/butch boy’ dig, but he still didn’t look convinced.

I settled back into his lap, tracing each one of his protruding abdominal muscles through his T-shirt, trying to measure his mood. “You are not responsible for everything, every problem. I love you, I support you, and I am staying put – I’m freakin’ cement!

“I've dealt with a traumatic childhood too, granted it wasn't exactly like yours, but I have some idea what it's like to lose your innocence to something out of your control, and yet still, I'm determined to make us work. I can't fight for us on my own though, Tude; you need to be in this with me. Our road to happiness was never going to be easy, but that doesn’t mean that I’m not going to strap myself in and enjoy the ride – bumps, dips and all!"

He stroked my face with his finger. "I am, gorgeous, I'm totally in, but I can't help but think that all my shit is having a negative effect on you - your job, your life, everything. Are you sure I'm worth it?" he looked apprehensive.

I flicked my hair like a L’Oreal advert, stared into his eyes like I was smouldering down the lens of a camera. "You're worth it."

That at least got a wee chuckle.

He took a final swig of his bourbon tea and asked, “What do you think I should say tomorrow?”

I thought about it for a second. “I think what Henry said made sense. If you expose your father for the bastard that he is it may liberate you in some way, make it easy for you to move on. Will it bring attention to you? Yes, of course, but you became an actor, and fame and press go with celebrity hand in hand. It’s how you handle the topic that needs to be considered.”