Page 86 of Falling Off Script

Because let’s be real—if I were her, I’d assume this was all my fault too. And even if I tried to help, it would look like PR damage control wrapped in emotional narcissism with a bow oflet’s talk off-camera.

Which it wouldn’t be. Not entirely. But she'd never believe that. And honestly? I wouldn’t blame her.

She rose from the ashes and I was part of the arson.

Still. I’m glad she posted.

Glad she’s okay.

Glad she’s found something to hold onto that doesn’t involve pretending to be okay for someone else’s benefit.

I tell myself that’s all it is. Relief.

Not nostalgia. Not the part of me that still remembers the way she fell asleep and buried her face in the pillow like she’d made it to safe harbor.

Just relief.

I close the laptop. Stand up.

Fifteen minutes later, I’m driving toward the one person who still believes I’m salvageable.

40. Emily

I open the door in pajamas that have definitely seen better years, holding a mug that says "Men Are Fine I Guess." Jessie’s standing there with Thai food in one hand and a six-pack of kombucha like it’s a peace treaty.

“Emotional support noodles?” Jessie asks, smiling.

“You think carbs can undo digital betrayal?”

Jessie pauses. “I mean... yes?”

I let her in. We sit on the floor. I haven’t vacuumed. There’s a sock on the table and I genuinely don’t know how it got there. Jessie doesn’t comment. Just starts unpacking the food like we’re study partners cramming for the Emotional Recovery Midterm.

We eat in silence for a few minutes. Or rather, I eat. Jessie picks at her tofu pad thai like it personally offended her.

"I had no idea what those files were when I forwarded them," she says.

I nod. I’ve heard this before. But this time it doesn’t make me want to throw a spring roll at her head.

"I know," I say.

She looks at me.

"I’ve been rewriting the betrayal monologue in my head," I add. "Yours was the shortest chapter."

Jessie lets out a laugh. Small. Real.

"You forgave me?"

"I didn’t say that. I just said I stopped planning a legal-themed podcast episode with your name in it."

Beat.

"I forgave you," I admit. "You didn’t run. You didn’t try to spin it. You just showed up. With carbs. That counts for something."

Jessie nods. Then says carefully, "Adrian tried to stop it too."

I freeze. Fork halfway to my mouth.

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