She watched the minutes tick by on her laptop. Netflix did little to keep her distracted, but she didn’t want to come off as totally crazy.

Did he work today? She couldn’t remember. If he was at work, it might be hours before he checked in with her. If he does at all. You acted like a fucking lunatic.

The brochures were like little beacons propped up on the vanity table. She’d come up with a rule for the day. Every time the words, “Are you still watching?” popped up on the screen, she would research one of the facilities.

In-patient was goddamned expensive. Harper depended on the expensive health insurance she had to buy herself, and she had no clue how much it covered eating disorder facilities.

Wait until noon. Just wait until noon, then you can call him.

It was ten o’clock when she couldn’t take it anymore. She grabbed her phone, the battery already half-dead from the constant checking. Just in case he’d texted and she hadn’t noticed.

Her heart pounded against her ribs as the clicked his name. It went directly to voicemail. “Shit,” she said. If his phone was dead, he obviously couldn’t call or text her. What if something’s wrong?

Suddenly, she knew. Something was wrong. She’d known it all morning and had stupidly decided to look for distractions instead of facing it.

Harper pulled on a loose tee-shirt and jeans from the hamper. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, her hair wild. There’s no time for this, she thought. As much as she wanted to primp and get pretty for him, there wasn’t time.

The collar. She could do the collar. Maybe it would make a difference, maybe it wouldn’t, but it was the only offering she had. Harper pulled her hair into a messy top knot and clicked the collar into place. The delicate clasps held tight against her skin.

Harper shoved her feet into the beat-up Converse and ran down the hallway.

“Harper! You see what I left you?” Helena called from the kitchen. “I don’t mean to pry, I just—”

“It’s okay,” Harper said as she sailed by the doorway. “Thanks! I just—I have to go.”

Her little car struggled to sputter to life. The gas. Fuck. The nearest gas station was just three blocks away. “Please start,” she said. “Please start.” Finally, it choked to life, though it immediately started to ding and cry for gas.

Of course there was a line. Harper pulled up, impatient behind the Prius, and put the car in neutral. The heat was already intense, but she couldn’t risk burning gas with air conditioning. Instead, she rolled down the windows and turned off the radio.

When it was finally her turn, she tore out of the car and jammed the spigot into the gas tank. “Hurry, hurry,” she repeated to herself.

“Hey! Nice tits,” a man called. She didn’t even have to turn around to know it was directed at her. “Hey, come here, I wanna whisper something to you.”

A rage burned inside her. Normally, she didn’t mind. Men’s attention had been her validation for years. It was what she banked on. But suddenly, in Sean’s collar, it felt like an trespass. How dare this fucking loser decide if I’m fuckable or not?

“Why you so mad, huh?” he called again.

She looked at the numbers as they flew skyward on the gas pump. Another day, before Sean, she would have offered the man a smile. A silent thank you for his appreciation. Now, she had two choices. Either ignore him or fly at him with all the anger she carried. And she didn’t have the time to risk an altercation like that.

Instead, she held her head high and ignored his cat calls while she fired up the little sedan.

The drive to his place was relatively short, but packed with notorious L.A. traffic. Even the back roads had lines that snaked down the block. Pedestrians seemed to move extra slow, full of their power to bring giant steel machines to a half. Harper gripped the wheel until her hands ached. She turned on the radio but switched it off immediately. Now was not the time to let Rihanna’s sultry repetition of “S&M” pound through the speakers.

“Come on,” she said under her breath. She prayed for the light to stay green long enough for her to pass. “Please,” she begged.

Construction work slowed her to a halt, and she wanted to scream. Who the hell does construction work on a workday at eleven in the morning? She wanted to flip the woman flagger off when she was finally waved past. Whatever was wrong, whatever happened to Sean, it was this woman’s fault now. Like fixing one of the city’s dozens of pot holes was more important than getting to him.

She took a deep breath, and the swell of her throat made the collar tighten. Calm. It was like Sean was suddenly beside her. A blanket of calmness, of dark peace settled over her. It’ll be okay.

As she pulled up to Sean’s apartment, her eyes immediately went to the police cruiser parked outside. It seemed innocent enough. There were no light flashing. The cop could easily be at the pizzeria, but she knew where they were.

Harper flew into his building and cursed the yellow tape that criss-crossed over the elevator doors. “Out of service.”

“Sean?” she called as she started up the staircase.

She moved with a speed and agility she didn’t know she had. “Watch where the fuck you’re going,” a goth girl with a face full of piercings snapped at her. They nearly fell into each other.

“Fuck you,” Harper said under her breath.

When she reached Sean’s floor, she barreled through the stairway door and came to a halt. At the end of the hallway, his door was open. An enormous black cop was bent over Sean, who’s face was pressed into the floor. Another cop, slightly smaller but still huge, spoke into the black box strapped to his shoulder.

Sean growled at the cop on top of him, though she couldn’t make out the words.

“Sean!” she yelled as she raced towards him. Her voice made him still for a moment, and he forced his neck up to see her.

“You know this man?” the black cop asked.

“Yes, he’s … he’s my boyfriend.”

“He always like this when he drinks?”

“Drinks?” she asked, confused. She caught sight of the half-empty bottle of Jack on the table. “Oh, God.”

“Harper, Harper, I’m sorry,” Sean blubbered into the floor.

“Shut up!” the white cop barked. “For your own good.”

“It’s okay!” she said. “Just … stop fighting. Just let them do … whatever it’s … why are you here?” she asked the cops.

“We’ll ask the questions,” the white cop said.

Sean had gone limp, and the black cop tightened the cuffs. “Sorry, you’re not family, we can’t tell you anything.”

The black cop pulled Sean to his feel like he weighed nothing.

“I’m sorry,” Sean repeated. His lip was busted and cracked with blood. She couldn’t tell if it was from the scuffle with the cops or something else. “I love you.”

“I … I love you, too,” she said. “What are you doing? You don’t drink. Why are you—”

“We gotta go, ma’am. We’re taking him in.” The black cop sounded apologetic.

“Take him in? Where? What’s he arrested for?” She wanted to put her hand on the cop’s arm, to stop him from taking Sean away.

“Assaulting an officer,” the white cop answered.

“What? No, he wouldn’t—”

“I suggest you stay quiet, ma’am. Unless you want to get dragged into this, too.”

“Harper, I’m sorry,” Sean said. “I didn’t mean to …”

“I know! I know, it’s okay,” she said. That’s all she could get out. It’s okay. It’s far from okay.

“Not okay,” Sean said. He tried to shake his head, but the cop held him tighter. “It’s better this way, anyway.”

“Better this way? What do you mean?”

“I woulda just screwed it all up anyway …”

“Wait! Why are you guys even here in the first place? Why—”

“No more questions,” the white cops said. “Let’s go.”

“You can’t just take him! Did he hit you? Why are you even here?”

“Ma’am, if you don’t calm down it’s going to be bad news for both you and your boyfriend here,” the white cop said. “We got this. C’mon.”

“Wait, wait, wait. At least tell me where you’re going. Taking him in where?”

“The seven-five,” the black cop said. “Call in, that’s all we can tell you.”

Harper felt tears start to sting her eyes. As the cops hauled him down the hallway, he looked smaller than ever before. This can’t be happening.

She followed them outside, standing in the doorway as they put Sean in the car. Tears slipped down her cheeks, unchecked. She slumped into the doorway and stared until they drove off, vanishing into the distance.

Dazed, Harper turned around and walked back into the apartment. The place that had given her so much pain—then so much joy—but now it looked like nothing. The smell of whiskey filled the air and an empty shot glass was abandoned on the table.

She sat down on the couch and put her head in her hands. There were a thousand questions in her mind, but one rang louder than the rest.

What the hell am I supposed to do without him?