Page 228 of The Doctors Will See You Now

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…

My heart shattered. Try as I might, I couldn’t come up with another option. My problems were tangible. Her explanation wasn’t.

“Miss, you need to leave,” the officer said to me. “We have to lock up Mr. Shepard’s apartment.”

I looked up from my defeated spot on the floor, following the lines of his black shoes to his black pants to his badge until I met his neutral gaze and just stared at him or through him or at nothing at all. I wasn’t even sure.

My world focus had tunneled to misery. In the blink of an eye, I felt like my entire life had changed. I’d gone from on top of the world—in a loving and happy relationship with everything to look forward to—to the scary, darkened depths of hell.

And that was just me. Not Scott. No. He was in a worse place than hell. He’d been accused of some of the most horrendous things inside of an article with my fucking name on it, and subsequently, taken into custody for questioning. To an outsider, it looked like I’d accused my boyfriend of charges that spanned the gamut—some of the worst being sexual misconduct and insurance fraud.

What a fucking mess.

Everything had fallen apart, and the cruelest part of all was that I didn’t understand the why or the how. Why would someone do something like this to Scott? And more importantly, who would do something like this?

Whomever it was, I hated them. They’d ruined his career, his fucking life—under the guise of my name—and because of that, they’d ruined us. I’d tried to tell him that I hadn’t written that column, but the uncertainty in his eyes said more than his words could. He was torn, and from the looks of it, he didn’t know what or whom to believe—including me.

Even though it hurt like a motherfucker, I couldn’t blame him. I mean, my name was on that column. I’d told him I was writing a column about him. And the column had even come from my goddamn email! It all looked really fucking bad, and everything pointed directly to me.

It looked like I’d ruined his life, and that I’d done it consciously and without any regard for him or his feelings. Like I’d put my joke of a career as a gossip columnist before him.

Fuck.

A quiet sob wracked my body and when visions of Scott being escorted out by the police filled my head, what should have been fresh tears dripping from my eyes came out as nothing. I’d cried more in the past two hours than I’d probably cried my whole life, and it showed. I’d literally run out of tears.

“Miss?” the officer addressed me again. “Is there anyone you can call to come get you?”

There was probably someone I could call, but I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to see anyone or talk to anyone. I just wanted to go to bed and make this day disappear.

“Miss?” he urged again, and I shook my head.

“No. There’s no one,” I said and slowly got to my feet. “I’ll be fine. I’m leaving.”

“Are you sure?” he asked and I nodded.

With my head down and my shoulders sagging forward, I walked toward the elevator. I didn’t know where I was going, but I knew I needed to get the fuck out of Scott’s apartment or else the police were going to end up escorting me out, too.