Page 96 of Falling Off Script

“I wasn’t invited,” he says. “Not officially. But I figured I owed us something.”

Jessie hands him a mic like she’s passing off a crown. Or a bomb.

Adrian looks at it, then back at me.

“You once said I always knew what to say,” he begins. “But I’m not here because I know what you want. I’m here because—for once—I know what I feel.”

I can’t breathe.

“I was the guy who had all the answers. Who taught other guys how to stay just far enough away to never get hurt. How to win from a distance. And it worked. Right up until I met the one person who saw through it.”

My mouth goes dry.

“You asked me once what I wanted. And I gave some generic answer. But what I wanted—what I want—is to be the kind of man who tells the truth. Especially when it costs him.”

He looks down. Then back up. Right at me.

“I didn’t choose you then. Because I didn’t know how. But I’d like to learn. With you. If you’re open to figuring thisout with me.”

Silence. Not from the audience. From me.

I feel everyone watching. Waiting.

Rachel’s eyes sparkle. Even Matt looks like he’s holding his breath.

Jessie clears her throat. “Emily?”

I stand.

Walk over to Adrian.

Take Adrian’s mic and hold it up like I’m about to say something profound.

Instead, I turn to the camera.

“That’s our show, folks. See you next season—if we survive this conversation.”

Then I reach down and hit the end stream button myself.

Jessie slides her headphones off.

“Wow,” she says. “Great timing. That’s when the sponsor ad was supposed to go.”

Epilogue. Emily

Jessie stares at us over her tea cup like we’ve just announced we’re taking up competitive ballroom dancing. We’re in Adrian’s apartment—somehow both minimalist and overflowing with half-finished projects.

“So this is what sexual tension looks like after resolution,” she says. “Weird.”

Adrian doesn’t even look up from where he’s stealing the last of my cookies. “Give us another week. We’ll be insufferable.”

I swat his hand too late. “Those were for thinking. You can’t eat a woman’s thinking cookie.”

“I thought these were debate cookies,” he says, popping one in his mouth. “You said we were workshopping.”

“Oh god.” Jessie makes a face. “You’re not about to pitch me something with the word ‘framework,’ are you?”

“No,” I say. “Okay, maybe. We’re starting an innovative matchmaking business.”

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