Page 345 of The Doctors Will See You Now

After the meeting with the board, I’d done my best to keep my head high and my mouth closed as I gathered my belongings and left the premises—escorted by security, of course—of a building I’d called home for the last ten years. Sure, I had an actual apartment—I was standing in it—but I’d seen more, done more, fucking grown more in that hospital than anywhere else in my life. Ten years of one-hundred-hour-plus weeks—gone.

I felt like I was trapped underwater, a clog in my ears making everything in the room sound muddled and distorted. I could see the detective’s lips moving in front of me, but I couldn’t make out a goddamn word.

“Scott,” he said again, his voice gentle, if you can believe that. “Let’s just go down to the station and talk, okay? You’re not arrested at this point. We just can’t ignore this public of an allegation without looking into it.”

I nodded. Or, at least, I think I did.

But as I stepped forward to gather what I needed, Harlow’s raging voice finally broke through the haze.

“No! No, listen to me!”

I looked over the detective’s shoulder to see her standing just inside of my apartment, arguing with the two uniformed officers.

“You don’t understand, okay? My name is Harlow Paige. I’m his girlfriend, and yes, my name is on the article, but I didn’t write that. I’d never write that!”

“Ma’am, you need to calm down, okay?”

“I can’t calm down!”

Even though she was responsible for all of this, something inside my heart apparently hadn’t gotten the memo yet and sought to comfort her.

“Harlow, it’s okay. They’re just questioning me. Just calm down so you don’t get in trouble too.”

A single, beaded tear trailed down her cheek when I finished speaking, her chest rising and falling like she’d run a marathon.

“I didn’t write that, Scott,” she whispered, almost so quiet I couldn’t hear her. “I don’t know what happened, but I didn’t write that. I would never write that.”

I just shook my head, confused and frustrated and so fucking tired, more tired than I’d ever been in my life.

I didn’t have it in me to answer her, to address her directly again, and I didn’t have the time. Detective Santos had been patient with me up until now, but the strained lines of his face said he was done with this scene.

I could either come peacefully to the station with him now for questioning, or things would get uglier.

Walking calmly to the table at the side of my entryway, I reached for my keys and wallet, settled them into my pockets, and looked back to the detective. “I’m ready.”

I wasn’t sure what state of mind I’d reached that I was this calm, but everything just felt definite. Harlow, despite her obvious regret, had written something about me that, in the blink of an eye, changed the landscape of my life. I was going to lose my job, despite my innocence, because no matter what, the publicity from this shitstorm would never be wholly positive again.

And now, for the first time in my life, I was headed to the police station to be questioned for serious crimes. Even through rowdy dealings and a partying lifestyle, I’d never been here before. Internally, I laughed sardonically at the thought that settling down was what had actually gotten me into real trouble.

The officers held Harlow out of the way, and I did my best not to look her in the eyes. I was holding it together pretty well, but just one peek into her stormy green irises and I’d be done for.

“No,” she muttered, watching as I walked to my door with the detective and stepped through it. “No, no! This is all wrong! You can’t take him!”

I clenched my teeth as the throaty scream of her voice turned raw.

“Nooo! He didn’t do anything! He’s a good person,” she cried, and just like that, after all of my effort, I broke. The fabric of my shirt brushed my chin as I turned to look over my shoulder.

The two officers held her by the arms, mostly for her own protection, from what I could see. Her body slumped, and her head hung to the ground in torment.

The sight destroyed me.

Suddenly, almost as if she sensed me, her gaze lifted violently to mine and captured it. Her willing hostage, I watched as she lost control of every ounce of decorum she had left.

“Scott! Scott!” she yelled, the fresh glow of her normally tanned skin turning mottled red with the effort. I tried in vain to look away, but whether I liked it or not, she’d taken me captive—mind, soul, body. It was all apparently hers to command.

“I didn’t write that! I didn’t, I swear! Scott, you have to believe me! Scott!”

She was either the world’s best liar or…