"Hey, Elise." Pat's electric blue hair dances around her face, as she runs towards me. "Welcome back!"

She's slightly panting as she catches up with me in the hallway of the hospital. I send her a goofy grin before she gives me her version of a bearhug. I was just making my way home after my first workday. It's good to see her again. Months have passed since I set foot in the hospital and since Megan's meltdown. The board finally made a decision about my internship. 

"Thanks, although I'm not back back." I see a shade of confusion glide over her face, she doesn't understand my words. "Back at pediatrics, I mean," I say and finally she makes the connection.

"Oh, that. Try to look at the bright side, you never have to deal with Morgenstern again. I would give my left arm for that." Pat stares dreamily into the distance and I fist-bump her shoulder

"You don't mean that, but I'm glad I never have to deal with IV's ever again." I sigh in relief thinking of the number of patients that get spared from my awful needle skills. In the distance I see Laila sitting behind her desk and I raise my arm to greet her.

"So... pathology? Just wait until you have to do your first biopsy. " She quirks one of her eyebrows.

"Biopsies are the new IV's?" I say with a deep sigh and Pat starts to laugh.

"I guess you could see it that way. Why did you go to pathology anyway?" The look in her eyes is filled with curiosity. 

I scrape my throat, picking my words carefully. "They thought this was the best solution, changing to a different internship. There was a free spot at pathology, and I took my chances. No one has to deal with the awkwardness of me coming back to my old ward, I can start all over again. And did I mention that I don't have to do IV's anymore?"

"That IV is really an obsession of yours, isn't it?" Pat smiles. "Talking about obsessions, do you still see that actor? I mean after the whole world witnessed him cheating on you..."

"No." I smile sadly when I tell her the lie. "It's better this way."

She looks at me as if she wants to apologize for something. I know that look. I've seen it on so many faces when I answer questions about Dan and how it all ended. They want to tell me that they always thought he wasn't the right person for me, they always thought that it would end this way, but they never actually say the words.

Weeks have passed since Dan's management released the message about us splitting up and still, complete strangers walk up to me and asking what happened. Everyone saw the pictures of Dan carrying me out of the apartment. In their eyes he was the hero, saving his girlfriend from a lunatic that broke into her house. I tried to tell my story, but I found out very quickly nobody was interested. They didn't want to hear that I saved myself, that Dan only showed up after I had fended off Megan's attack.

Everyone praised his heroic act and his bandaging skills. Well, I can tell you that Megan's physical wound was only superficial. There was still a lot of blood though when Dan came storming in, but to be honest a child could have stopped the bleeding.

In the end, I quit giving interviews and answering questions. It was always about Dan and he was the last person I wanted to talk about. Sometimes they asked about my attacker, but I refused to talk about Megan as well. She was taken into custody after they patched up the shot wound. Then she was brought to a mental institution. She was forced into therapy and I couldn't see the point in spilling her story to the press. I knew that facing both her own demons and the press would be too much to handle, so I protected her with my silence.

"Do you want to go for a drink? Ty is coming as well," Pat says with a wink as she adjusts her multicolored bag.

I shake my head. "Nah, maybe another time. I forgot how exhausting a first day can be. With all these new impressions, I'm knackered. Tell Tyler I said hi."

She shrugs. "I will. You're always welcome to join us."

I thank her for the offer and then we make both our ways to our separate destinations. As I step outside I scan the area, a habit I can't get rid of just yet, but there are no paparazzi in sight. After they found out Dan and I weren't dating anymore, their attention shifted to another victim within days. I gave them what they wanted, a picture of me with tears rolling over my cheeks, and they finally disappeared from my life. I found out the hard way that a little play pretend is the easiest way to deal with them.

"I'm home!" I say as I open the door of my apartment. My voice echoes through the house, but I know I'm not alone. The delicious smell of a warm dinner fills my nose.

The first days I was scared of staying alone in my house. It didn't feel safe anymore after Megan had attacked me, but I couldn't really go anywhere else, so I stayed. I visited a counselor a couple of times. He taught me how to deal with my fears, how to continue my life after what happened.

I pick up the psychology books that cover a big part of my couch and place them on the ground. The pile almost looks like one of those designer side tables. I kick off my shoes, wiggle my toes to celebrate their freedom. It doesn't take long before dinner is served.

"How was your day?" I ask Dan when he walks out of the kitchen with two steaming plates.

"Okay, I guess," he says as he hands me one of them. He sits down on the couch beside me, plants a kiss on my lips. "The classes were interesting, but people were staring. I guess they will get used to me being in college. How was the new ward?"

"The patients were nice and quiet," I say and he smiles. "Actually, I didn't even see the morgue today. I spent a lot of time with samples and a microscope in an airconditioned lab."

I play with my spaghetti, trying to roll it up on my fork like a pro, but I fail miserably. In the end, I just cut it into small pieces, ignoring Dan's exclaims, calling me a food barbarian.

"Megan sent me an email," I say, carefully draping my food on the fork.

"What did she have to say?" He tries to sound relaxed, but I can see the tension in his shoulders. Megan's actions didn't only have an effect on me.

"I think it's part of her therapy. She apologized for everything that happened... for almost killing me. And she was sorry to hear that we broke up. She thought you would fight harder for me."

Dan rolls his eyes, snorts. "Yeah, right. Wasn't that her whole plan, you losing everything you hold dear? Although I still can't believe you fell for those photos."

"They looked really convincing," I defend myself.

It wasn't as if I had given him a chance to explain those pictures of him and Sasha I didn't want to listen to anything he had to say. I had no clue what to believe and who to trust. The pictures were real, they were burned into my mind and they had made his betrayal visible for the whole world. Dan had tried to contact me, he wanted to tell me his version of the events, but I shut him out.

It all changed when a detective, who was researching the case, called me and invited me for a talk. One by one he revealed everything Megan had done. She used other people's bank accounts to pay for certain services and tools, she even created different identities, but the research team had found clues and traces. And then they found her second phone. The phone she used to inform paparazzi about my whereabouts, the phone with a voice distortion app. It confirmed everything I already knew and I was about to leave when the detective had one more revelation.

He had found out that it was Megan who had sent the photos of Sasha and Dan to a news agency. The agency had published them as if they were made recently, without doing their research. The detective and his team had discovered that in fact, they were old, they were made when Sasha and Dan were only dating for a couple of months. Back then no one had cared about the photos, there's nothing less interesting than random pictures of a happy couple and they only had appeared on one or two lesser-known gossip websites. 

The evidence was clear; Dan wasn't a cheater. 

I had to talk to him, but I wasn't looking forward to it. Every time I looked at my phone, at his number, I remembered how I had made very clear I didn't want to have any contact with him. In the end, I made the call, my heart pounding in my throat, telling myself I had to do this if else Megan's madness would win. When Dan picked up the phone, he sounded cold, but he agreed with a meeting.

It was strange seeing him again. Our separation had been abrupt, messy and I was nervous as hell. He offered me his hand, while a smile lingered around his lips. I realized that this wasn't just some stranger; this was Dan, my Dan. With a sigh, I let my tension disappear, and then we finally talked. 

We talked for hours, as we had a lot to talk about. I told him what had happened to me. What happened at the tournament, what Megan did and what I found out. And then he told me what happened to him.

The filming had been a disaster. First, they had suffered bad weather, props had been ruined and the crew had become nervous as they had only a limited time and budget to shoot the film. But that wasn't the worst. The director soon appeared to be a real dictator, who hadn't tolerated any input by the crew or the actors. Dan had more than once seen his co-workers break down after the man had one of his outbursts. And worse, the director became more paranoid by the day, accusing actors of sending images of the set to journalists and started to take away phones from anyone he saw openly walking around with one. That's what happened when I had called Dan that one day. 

Everything fell apart. Crew members walked away, actors refused to follow any order the director gave them. The production fell apart and as soon as they called it, Dan found out that his whole personal life went to hell as well. First, he found Megan and me. He stayed with me when I was treated in the hospital for the poison Megan gave me. Not that I have any memories of his presence, as I was still either dizzy or unconscious. It wasn't as if he could stay longer, paparazzi were hunting him down already and Dan left before they besieged the hospital.

And when everything calmed down again he found out that I was convinced he had some wild romance with Sasha and refused to talk to him.

Our conversation cleared the air and we started seeing each other again. At first just on a friendly note, as we had both wounds that need to heal and trust to regain. But soon we started to explore other possibilities. 

"Do you want some more?" Dan's words interrupt my contemplations. Patiently he gestures to our empty plates.

I shake my head. "There's something else I want," I say as I wrap my arms around his neck.

His eyes sparkle as if they're made of a million stars. I can see my future.

~The end~

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AN: Thanks all for reading! I seriously couldn't have done this without you. I hope you all like this ending.  I'm not the person who writes wedding bell endings and I love stories that end somewhat positively but still leave a lot open to the readers' imagination. 

This is for @lemonemmafied Thank you for sticking around till the end! I hope you're going to pick up your story one day.