Page 51 of Falling Off Script

She tilts her head. “Why would I try to find the same thing twice? The point isn’t replication. It’s connection.”

I have nothing for that.

No retort. No joke. Just the creeping horror that she might actually be right.

She picks up her cup again. “You’re not responsible for how I process intimacy, Andrew.”

I frown. “Don’t say words like that. You’re going to make me drop my croissant.”

“You didn’t order one.”

“Exactly. Intuition.”

She quietly chuckles. Then gives me a look I can’t quite place. Half-maternal, half-clinical. Then gathers her bag.

“We done?” I ask.

“For now.”

I stand. Kiss her cheek. It’s instinct, not obligation.

She pats my arm. “You’re a good man, Andrew.”

I roll my eyes. “Don’t make it weird.”

She smirks. “Too late.”

Then she walks away—confident, composed, and apparently back in the dating pool.

I sit back down and finally drink the espresso.

It’s cold.

But it’s still strong.

23. Emily

Rachel walks in like she’s just come from a particularly successful Vogue cover shoot. Her heels click. Her smile is... suspiciously euphoric.

She sits. Smooths her skirt. Tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, still smiling.

I raise an eyebrow. “So. I take it, the coffee guy’s still around?”

Her grin turns criminal. “His name is Matt.”

Matt. Right. Adrian’s latest emotional origami project.

I school my face into something encouraging. “And how’s Matt?”

She exhales, dreamy. “Honestly? Kind of amazing. He’s... grounded. Decisive. He radiates this quiet confidence, you know?”

I nod slowly. “Quiet, like... emotionally intelligent quiet, or ‘says nothing and stares at you over the menu’ quiet?”

Rachel doesn’t even blink. “He ordered for me. Without asking.”

I pause.

“Oh?”

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