With those words, he grabs me and his lips find mine. Right in the middle of the supermarket. And despite my determination not to dawdle here, I don’t mind one bit.

In the week since we deleted the video from EJ’s phone and home computer, Luke and I have grown closer than ever. He was anxious about EJ retaliating, so he insisted on spending the next few nights at my house. But EJ didn’t try to contact me—I’ve blocked him on my phone and he never showed up at my front door like I worried he might. Even after those first few days though, Luke hasn’t gone home. Well, just once to grab more clothing, but then he came back right away.

As I allow Luke to kiss me right in the middle of aisle six at the grocery store, I realize that this is the happiest I have ever been. I have a wonderful man in my life, my book is coming out soon, and I have diffused the EJ situation. And I have this feeling that more good things are soon to come.

“Dr. Hale!”

I jerk away from Luke, guilty for my display of affection in a public place. It was utterly unprofessional. Although Luke doesn’t seem the slightest bit sorry. He has a dopey grin on his face.

When I turn around, I recognize one of my patients. GW. The woman who was first convinced that her mailman was trying to kill her, then her pharmacist, and more recently, her son. When I’m alone with patients in my office and I hear their darkest thoughts, sometimes I wonder how they manage to function in their lives. But here is Gail, looking very put together in a fetching pink sweater and khaki slacks, with her makeup more perfectly applied than mine after Luke smudged my lipstick with that kiss. I wonder if she’s been taking her medications.

“Hello, Gail.” I wipe my lips self-consciously, ignoring the burning sensation on my face. “It’s nice seeing you.”

“Oh dear,” Gail murmurs. “I didn’t mean to interrupt you and your gentleman friend. I just got excited when I saw you.”

“That’s quite all right.” I tug at the collar of my blouse and glance at Luke, who is looking at me expectantly. “Luke, this is Gail, a patient of mine. Gail, this is Luke. My, um, friend.”

Luke smirks at the description of “friend” and Gail seems amused as well. But as I got into my thirties, the term boyfriend felt strange on my lips. After all, Luke is hardly a boy.

“I haven’t seen you for a bit, Gail,” I say, attempting to diffuse the awkwardness. “Is everything all right?”