Page 95 of Forty, Flirty & Fake-ly Yours

Indicating I’ve got a call to Connor and his Grams, I head for the terrace doors.

“Hey, bro!” Connor calls after me. “Everything good? You?—”

But I'm already outside, the snow falling around me as I pull out my phone. Jessica's number still sits in my contacts, untouched since that last awkward conversation about returning house keys and dividing up our shared smart home devices.

My finger hovers over her name. No algorithms. No careful calculations. Just... whatever this is.

I hit dial before I can overthink it.

The phone rings once, twice, three times. Then:

"Grayson?" Jessica's voice carries that particular mix of surprise and wariness I probably deserve. "I... wasn't expecting?—"

"How did you know?" The words tumble out of my mouth without finesse. "With James. When Roz connected you two. How did you know it was real?"

Silence stretches between us, heavy with the years of distance.

"You mean, how did I know it was worth blowing up everything we'd built?" A pause. "Worth hurting you?"

"Worth being unpredictable," I correct, though my free hand clenches at the memory. "Worth disrupting all our plans."

"That's exactly it, though.” She snorts softly, the sound sad. "Our 'careful plans.' Our perfectly optimized future. God, Gray, do you know how exhausting it was? Being the perfectly assessed choice?"

"I thought that's what we both wanted."

"No. That's what you needed. Everything measured, everything controlled. Even our engagement was an algorithm."

"It was efficient.”

"It was safe." The bite in her voice makes me flinch. "And then I met James, and suddenly I understood what everyone else had been talking about. What Rosalind kept trying to tell me about real connection."

"And now?"

"Now I wake up every morning terrified and thrilled and completely, ridiculously happy." She pauses. "Because I finally stopped trying to be perfect and started being myself.”

Hearing this. Listening to everything I’ve done.

It’s like a bug in a great code.

Destructive. Screwed up. But impossible to ignore.

And just what the hell I’ve needed.

“I’m doing the same thing now, aren’t I?” My voice comes out barely audible.

“Doing what?”

“I’m sorry. I think…I’m trying to make the woman in my life fit into my planning instead of..."

"Instead of letting her show you a better way?" I can hear her smile. "Grayson, you are the smartest man I’ve ever known…but sometimes, you really can be so dense.”

"So everyone keeps telling me."

"Then maybe start listening." Another pause. "You know what the difference is between then and now?"

"Besides your significantly less organized schedule?"

"I fought for James," she says simply. "Even when it meant burning everything down. Even when it meant hurting you – which I am sorry for, by the way."

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