Happy Ending
You had your great big romantic reunion in front of "friends" and newscrews and more people that he'd ever seen before in his life, and then you took him home. He stared at the evidence of your obsession with him, and thanked you.
It didn't sink in for a few days that both of your lives were over. But the offers came flooding in for both of you - interviews, advertising, book deals - and you took them, because what else was there for you to do?
He wanted to travel, of course, so you drove for days, and then you started flying - every major sight in the country, and the odd one that he'd never heard of, just to reassure him that his life was out of control. You realise now that you were both just running away.
You saw the chapels in Vegas, but he was still legally married to that whore Meryl, so you passed them by. But that night you made love to him for the first time, and cried at his innocence.
He seemed to enjoy people talking to him in the street, and was far more disturbed to find people that didn't know him - or worse, that disliked him - but it made you uncomfortable, made you long to fade back into the background.
He read articles and watched documentaries about himself and the show, and occasionally turned to you with a frown at something they got wrong. His naivete was charming for a while, but then it began to grate. You had wanted a lover, not a child.
You worked for this. And even though you have nothing to say to each other any more, and even though you wouldn't mind staying in one place for more than a fortnight, and even though he can't seem to remember your real name, you can never leave him.
This is your happy ending.