GobSmacked82

Whitney and Kevin continue sitting on Frank Farmer's bed. 10 more minutes pass, and she's almost composed herself, and is almost all dressed. She's putting on her shoes.
KC: I'm driving you home. Are you alright now?
WH: (Nods) Yeah. Of course. I have to be, but umm … I don’t do this all the time. Cissy and John didn’t raise me to be, like, the whore of Babylon. Some chickenhead, or something …
KC: Good G--, Whitney. Stop crucifying yourself! I can’t take it. In the first place, it’s not like anybody died, except maybe for my buzz. And some of my hearing—
WH: That was an illegal buzz that you got, yo! (she works the neck and points at him)
KC: That you gave me! (sees her eyes get wide) OK, please don’t start the self-whippings again. Please. You’ve done it enough for us both.
WH: It’s time for me to go home.
KC: (Relieved) Yeah, that’s the right kind of thinking. (they start out the door) But you have to let it go, alright? (takes her arm) You have everything you need?
WH: Except my self-respect.
KC: (Rolls his eyes and rubs his head)
In a few minutes, they’re in his car. Porsche or something, and he’s driving her. She’s staring out the window.
KC: Well, we know a couple of things.
WH: What’s that?
KC: You were definitely not cut out for a life of sin. And you did not sleep your way to the top.
WH: (Smiles a little, but turns her head so he can’t see.)
KC: And … I’m sorry I snapped at you before. That was not cool.
WH: Nope. It was not. But you a-ight most of the time.
KC: Yeah, I’m an alright guy. (Pauses) You know, we have bizarre timing. Awful, really. Because if you set everything aside …
WH: Like the fact that you are married, have 3 kids and I’m like some kinda home-wrecking heffa that deserves to get hit by a bus …
KC: Um, if you lay aside the fact that you’re engaged, which could still be broken, by the way.
WH: Don’t get on that train, Kevin. I’m stressed enough. (Looks at him now.)
KC: I’m trying to tell you that the whole world disappeared for me in that last hour. Cindy probably had a better husband. A smarter guy, like the president of a country or something. But it’s like it was just you and me in a meadow somewhere.
WH: What?
KC: Yeah. So even though you obviously think there’s going to be sulfur and ashes and brimstone and pitchforks and stuff waiting for us, and you need to punish yourself for the rest of your life; well, that’s the farthest place from my mind right now.
WH: (She’s quiet. And starts sniffing.) Dammit, Kevin! (It works its way up to full-blown sobs) That was so good. (rifles through her bag for tissue)
KC: Yeah, that’s what you said before you started snoring. Ever so softly, like a new little kitten.
WH: Shut up! I did not! (punches his arm)
KC: Ow! Save it for the fight scene later!
Next morning, Whitney walks into her dressing room/trailer and sees a bouquet of flowers on the table. There is no card. But the vase is full of wild flowers, the kind you would find in a meadow.