Page 355 of The Doctors Will See You Now

There was no doubt that pictures of the two of us leaving the police station were worth their weight in gold. And with the enthusiastic—and extremely overwhelming—way their cameras were snapping photos, it was a safe bet that they’d be hot on our trail all goddamn day.

“I guess we’re not going to lunch, huh?” I whispered to Scott as we walked across the sidewalk and he hailed a cab.

“Nope,” he muttered. “Let’s just get home and order takeout, okay?”

“Good idea.”

Even though things were looking up and the truth was coming out, that fucking article had stolen our freedom. Eating out, walking the streets, riding the subway, they were each a thing of the past. We couldn’t do any of it without being assaulted by the press’s questions and cameras.

And the terrifying part of it all was that we didn’t know when it would finally blow over or get better, and neither one of us was certain we could live our lives like this for much longer.

One cab ride and thirty minutes later, we stepped inside of Scott’s apartment. Both of us sighed in relief once the door shut behind us. I slipped off my flip-flops and plopped my tired ass down onto the sofa while Scott grabbed us sodas from the kitchen. The remote was in my hand, and I was scrolling through the Netflix options moments later.

I needed to decompress, and generally speaking, binge-watching Netflix shows was the answer. Hell, I think most people used it as an actual coping mechanism now.

Writer’s block? Watch Netflix.

Just got dumped by your boyfriend? Watch Netflix.

Too many items on your To-Do List? Watch Netflix.

Too stressed out to adult? Watch Netflix.

See? Obviously, it was a multifaceted kind of coping mechanism that could be utilized in almost any situation. Now, I wouldn’t say it actually solved anything, but that was neither here nor there. If I needed something to help me forget that I was procrastinating on my responsibilities or avoiding my problems, Netflix was my number one homeboy.

But as I started watching an episode of Parks and Recreation, I quickly realized I had too much on my mind to experience the full escape my homeboy generally provided.

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise, though. Life had been a bit of a fucking roller coaster for Scott and me, and it felt like our cart had managed to get stuck on the very tip-top of the first big hill that makes your stomach fall into your shoes.

“I know all of this bullshit will eventually die down, but fucking hell, it’s kind of awful,” I muttered, probably more to myself than Scott. “I mean, when will it end?”

He sat down beside me, set the glasses of water on the table, wrapped his arm around my shoulder, and tucked me close to his side. “This is just a temporary kind of hell, Low. It won’t last forever.”

I sighed and rested my head onto his shoulder. “Yeah, but the fact that you just called it a temporary hell says everything.”

“Yeah, but I’d go through all of that bullshit again if I knew it would lead me right back here. With you,” he said, and I lifted my head to meet his eyes. “You’re it for me, Harlow. And I don’t care if three years from now we’re still in New York being chased around by paparazzi or if we’ve moved to a new city and are starting over. The only thing that’s important to me is you.” He kissed my lips softly. “You’re my home now. Everything else is just minor details.”

He was right.

If there was one thing I learned from this experience—besides the fact that Pam Lockhead is a total cunt—it was that I loved Scott. And I not only wanted to be with him, but I needed to be with him. Nothing felt right without him.

“I love you,” I whispered, and he kissed my nose.

“I love you, too, Frances,” he said, and I rolled my eyes.

“Ugh. Don’t ruin the moment with my awful name,” I scolded, but secretly, I loved it. I wanted Scott’s teasing and smiles to last a lifetime.

“We’re having a moment right now?” he questioned playfully.

“Well, we were,” I muttered. “We’re definitely not anymore.”

Scott laughed and flipped me onto my back before I could stop him. His large body hovered over mine as he grinned down at me. “You know what I think?” he asked and peppered my jaw with kisses.

“What do you think?”

“I think you need to follow your dream.”

“Become a stripper?” I asked in jest, and he chuckled.