Eastenders Max tells Linda that everyone in his family twists things and treat him like the bad guy
EastEnders delivers another emotionally charged chapter in the ongoing fallout surrounding Max Branning, as he opens up to Linda Carter about feeling vilified by the very people who are supposed to love him. In a raw and bruising conversation, Max insists that his family has twisted the truth, painted him as the bad guy, and refused to see his side of events—leaving him isolated, defensive, and dangerously close to self-destruction.
The scene comes in the aftermath of a disastrous christening, an explosive confrontation with his children, and mounting accusations that Max has once again crossed lines he can’t come back from. But as Max tells it, the truth is far messier—and far more painful—than the version being passed around Walford.
A christening in ruins
When Linda confronts Max, she doesn’t mince her words. She’s heard exactly what went down: the christening was wrecked, tempers flared, and Max allegedly lashed out at everyone in sight. According to the stories circulating, Max attacked Peter Beale, verbally tore into Cindy Beale, and even turned his anger on his own daughter—an unforgivable betrayal in Linda’s eyes.
Max doesn’t deny that the day spiraled out of control. What he does deny is the idea that he is solely to blame.
To Linda, it looks like another classic Max Branning implosion. To Max, it’s proof that his family has already decided he’s guilty—no matter what the truth actually is.
“They always make me the bad guy”
In one of the most revealing admissions Max has made in years, he tells Linda that it feels like his family is constantly “coming for him.” Every mistake is magnified, every explanation dismissed, every attempt to defend himself twisted into further evidence of his supposed cruelty.
He doesn’t claim to be blameless. Instead, he argues that context is always stripped away. In his version of events, he’s not a monster who lashes out for sport—he’s a man who reacts badly when pushed, provoked, and misunderstood.
Linda, never one to let self-pity go unchallenged, pushes back. If everyone in his life sees him as the problem, she asks, isn’t it worth considering that they might have a point?
It’s a question Max refuses to answer directly.
The truth about AJ
The emotional heart of the scene comes when Max finally reveals what he believes sparked the latest round of judgment: the night his young granddaughter AJ went missing.
Max explains that AJ is now living with Tanya Branning, not because he’s an unfit guardian, but because of a single, terrifying incident. AJ wandered off overnight, becoming trapped in a shed, screaming his name while he searched in panic.
For Max, those hours were hell. He genuinely believed she was dead.
The fear still rattles his voice as he recounts it, and for a brief moment, Linda’s anger softens into empathy. Losing a child, even temporarily, is every parent’s worst nightmare.
An explanation that raises more questions
When Linda asks how it happened, Max insists it was a simple, tragic mistake. A neighbor needed help. AJ was asleep. He left a tablet on to keep an eye on her. He was gone for what felt like minutes.
When he returned, AJ was gone.
But then Linda asks the question Max has clearly been dreading: was the neighbor a woman?
Max bristles instantly, snapping back that people are “assuming the worst,” just like they always do. Yes, it was a woman—but in his eyes, that detail has been weaponized to fit a narrative that paints him as irresponsible, distracted, and driven by his own impulses.
To Max, the real injustice isn’t the mistake itself. It’s the lack of compassion.
Why Max feels judged differently
In a bitter comparison, Max tells Linda that when bad things happen to other people in Walford, they receive sympathy and understanding. When they happen to him, he gets snide comments, side-eyes, and whispered judgments.
It’s a grievance that cuts deep. Max genuinely believes he’s held to a harsher standard than anyone else—a man whose past mistakes have permanently poisoned how others see him.
Linda listens, but she doesn’t let him off the hook. She reminds him that Walford has spent years cleaning up after his messes, trying to help him, defend him, and pull him back from the brink.
At some point, she implies, self-pity becomes another way of avoiding responsibility.
Linda’s tough love
Linda’s response is classic Carter honesty. Yes, she acknowledges that Max has been through trauma. Yes, she accepts that losing AJ—even temporarily—was horrifying. But she refuses to validate his claim that he’s nothing more than a victim.
In her eyes, Max’s problem isn’t that everyone is out to get him—it’s that he refuses to see how his actions contribute to the chaos around him. Beating Peter, verbally attacking Cindy, and alienating his own children can’t all be brushed aside as misunderstandings.
Her final remark, dripping with weary sarcasm, leaves Max stewing in his own misery rather than offering him the absolution he so clearly wants.
What this means for Max Branning
This conversation marks a crucial moment for Max. For the first time in a long while, he articulates how persecuted he feels—not by enemies, but by family. Yet the scene also makes clear that his inability to fully own his behavior keeps him trapped in the same destructive cycle.
Max sees himself as misunderstood. Others see him as unpredictable and dangerous. The gap between those perceptions is widening, not shrinking.
As EastEnders continues, the question isn’t whether Max believes he’s the bad guy—it’s whether he’s finally willing to confront the possibility that his family’s version of events isn’t just cruelty, but consequence.
In Walford, sympathy is hard-earned. And unless Max Branning changes, even those willing to listen—like Linda—may soon decide they’ve heard enough.