Waking up in Scott's bed is a confusing moment. First, I am quiet and relaxed. My head surprisingly doesn't hurt and the blue light coming through the one-way mirror is quite soothing. Then I am disappointed because he is no longer in bed with me. Next, I am happy because I see him, through the blue glass, drinking what is probably coffee at the kitchen table, looking at something on his phone. And finally, I feel ashamed. Because of everything that happened yesterday.

I've never wished to be able to take something back so ardently…

But life doesn't work like that and I walk out of the bedroom space, ready to face what comes next. Even if it’s Scott asking me to not bother him again will all my shit in the future.

I feel a bit nauseated but this has nothing to do with yesterday’s excess. It’s all about what is going to unfold.

As soon as I emerge, Scott looks up and smiles at me, part happy, part amused. “Good morning Andrew Scott.”

“Hi, Scott not Andrews. What’s even your family name?”

“Adams.”

“Not that far, then.”

“No. Just enough to not make it fate, I guess. Anyhow. How are you feeling this morning?”

“An equal mix of grateful and embarrassed.”

Scott’s smile fades and he points at a chair. I sit down just as he stands up. “Coffee?”

“I’m… not sure.”

He pours me a cup and hands it to me. “Drink it, don’t drink it, it doesn’t matter. Let’s rewind a sec on what you said. What are you grateful for?”

It doesn’t sound like he is pulling praise out of me. I think he is trying to understand exactly what’s in my head. “You.”

“No, you’re not. What made you grateful?”

“You took me out of there. You took care of me.”

“Okay, first… you walked out of there on your own. And second… you’re welcome. Grateful is a good feeling. But don’t let it go deeper. You don’t owe me anything. I don’t say that because I’m trying to be patronizing, I’m saying this because of the other thing you mentioned. What are you ashamed about?”

Now I understand why he asked me to describe the gratitude. It makes it so much easier for me to open up about the shame.

“All of yesterday.”

“No, you’re not.”

I guess he’s right. Most of my day yesterday went fine. “I’m ashamed you had to see me like this.”

“I’m a cop, Andrew. I’ve seen much worse. I’m also a human being. I’ve had shitty moments. I won’t judge you. I can’t.”

“I’m ashamed I did any of that crap in the first place.” His eyes are on me and something tells me he will ask me to be more specific if I don’t do that myself. “I shouldn’t have drunk so much. I shouldn’t have been looking for fulfillment in any sexual contact I could find. I shouldn’t have taken a pill without even knowing what it was. I shouldn’t have kissed Clark. I shouldn’t… I should have been stronger. Oh my God, I’m such a piece of garbage.” I put my elbows on the table and hide my face in my hands.

But then Scott’s hands are taking mine and I have no choice but to look at him. “Okay, there is a lot to unpack there. Drinks and promiscuity… that’s all fine. I would be the last person on Earth allowed to say otherwise. But it’s only fine if that’s what you want and if you’re in control of it. The fact that you’re feeling ashamed about it tells me that maybe that wasn’t really the case. Which leads to the pill… Andrew, you’re a smart guy, what were you thinking?”

“That Clark always kept me safe.”

“And yet you’re ashamed you kissed him.”

“Well… I’ve clearly hit rock bottom and I thought that at least he would love me regardless.”

Scott lets go of my hand and leans back, putting his weight on the back of his chair. He is still intensely looking at me. “If this is your rock bottom, Andrew Scott, you are far from being a piece of garbage. Let me tell you what I see when I look at you. I see a handsome, passionate, talented, smart man who is feeling lost right now. All of what happened yesterday, all those things you’re ashamed about, they all come from the fact that you lost all confidence in who you are and you are looking for reassurance in the wrong place. And if this truly is your rock bottom, then that’s great. All you have to do to get back up is to give a big push.”

“I don’t know how to do that,” I admit. That makes me feel so small and insignificant.

“This is going to sound like a fortune cookie sentence, but… Sometimes, to move forward, we need to take a step back.”

“It genuinely sounds like a fortune cookie sentence.”

“Because that’s exactly where I found it,” he replies with a smile. “But I think this can still be accurate. The last time you felt like you had your shit together… what would a day off have been like?”

I take a minute to think about it. “I’d start with a healthy breakfast. Not just coffee and aspirin.”

“We can work something out for that.”

“Then I’d probably exercise a bit.”

“I should probably go for a run myself.”

“I’d study, but… I’m not in school anymore. I’m not even working right now.”

“No, no, no. We’re not feeling sorry for ourselves. We’re planning a perfect day.”

“Then I’d probably play the violin for a bit.”

“I’d like to hear you play someday.”

“I’ll play for you,” I promise. “If you show me your tattoo.”

He raises an eyebrow. But he flirts back. “That’s a deal, Andrew Scott.”

That’s almost enough to make me blush and I don’t really understand why. “And in the evening, I would probably go out,” I carry on to change the subject.

“I think you might want to slow down on that front.”

“No, I don’t mean partying, I mean… a restaurant with friends, a concert with Kate, something cultural…”

“Okay. Then let’s do all of that.”

“All of that what?”

“All those things that the stable version of you likes to do. I am on the night shift today. Let’s start by getting a healthy breakfast. I’ve got lots of fruits. We should be able to work something out. And then we can go for a run. If you can keep up.”

“I know you have to stay fit for your job, but I used to play varsity…”

“Used to. And I meant because of yesterday’s activities.”

“Then that will make up for the fact that I’m younger and healthier.”

“Don’t make me sound like an old man. What’s the age difference? Three years? Four? I’m so going to destroy you.”

“Should we bet on it?”

“Absolutely. If I win, you play for me before I show you the tattoo. If you win, I’ll drop the shirt before you play.”

“That sounds reasonable.”

And we shake on it.

“My shift starts at midnight,” he adds. “Meaning that if you really meant it about a chill night out, we can do that too. So… What will it be, Andrew Scott? Concert or restaurant?”

I am so incredibly tempted to say restaurant. Turn this unhoped-for opportunity into a date. But you don’t trick someone into a date. And there is this poster I’ve seen at the theatre and that has stayed in my mind ever since… I didn’t know if it would be appropriate to go even if I have been dying to. Maybe I can if it’s with Scott. Maybe then it won’t be weird.

Or maybe it would be even more awkward…

Before my brain is done deciding what it wants, my mouth says: “Would you like to see a play with me?”