Page 99 of Forty, Flirty & Fake-ly Yours

Through the kitchen doors, I hear what soundssuspiciously like Nonna Flora shushing someone, followed by muffled giggles that probably belong to Dani.

"Very subtle, guys,” I mutter.

"I believe efficiency is my thing." But his smile holds a tinge of uncertainty. "Though lately I'm starting to appreciate a more... intuitive approach."

I should probably say something professional. Something about boundaries and proper procedures and how this won’t be covered in our liability insurance.

Instead, I hear myself ask: "Any particular reason you needed a private session?"

"Several." He leans forward, elbows on knees, and suddenly breathing becomes a conscious effort. "Though primarily I'm hoping to understand where I went wrong with this amazing woman I was seeing."

I move to the front of the room on autopilot, trying to ignore how the singular focus of his whiskey-brown eyes makes my pulse race. Through the slightly ajar doors, I catch glimpses of movement – probably our entire Thursday night group plus half the restaurant staff trying to eavesdrop.

"Well then," I manage, falling into familiar patterns like emotional armor. "Welcome to Heart & Soul Connections. Where we believe real connection matters more than?—"

"Than careful calculation? Than algorithms and optimization protocols?"

"Something like that." I shuffle papers I'm not actually reading. "Would you like to tell the group – such as it is – what brings you here tonight?"

"I made a mistake." He stands, and suddenly the room loses air. "Several, actually. Starting with thinking I could solve my way out of falling in love."

My hands shake slightly. "That's very... inefficient of you."

"Completely unprofessional," he agrees, taking a step closer. "Though lately I'm starting to think some inefficiencies are worth it."

Through the doors, I hear what sounds like Dani whisper-shouting "Oh my God!" followed by several urgent shushings.

"So," I say, probably too loudly, "what made you realize these... inefficiencies?"

"Would you believe it was a conversation with my ex-fiancée?"

I nearly drop my folder. "Jessica?"

"She helped me understand something." Another step closer. "About being perfect versus being myself. About how sometimes the best things in life are the ones that you can’t evaluate.”

"Like spilling wine on expensive shirts?"

He laughs, low and deep. "Like crashing engagement parties and teaching AIs about emotional processing. Like making me forget about my tech business bullshit entirely when you're around."

"That's very..." I swallow hard, acutely aware of how close he's standing now. "Statistically significant of you."

"I thought so too." His hand reaches up, brushing a stray curl from my face with a gentleness that makes my heart stutter. "Then I realized something else."

"What's that?"

"That I'd rather have one real moment with you than a lifetime of perfectly calculated distance."

A soft thud from behind the doors suggests someone – probably Dani – just swooned into the breadstick display.

"You left," I manage, though my voice wobbles. "After the article?—"

“I know. And I wish I could take it back. Wish I could erase how I made you feel. Wish I could explain about how I’ve spent my whole damn life trying to outsmart pain," he says, raking trembling hands through his hair, his voice frayed at the edges. "After Jessica, I didn’t just build a company—I built a fortress. I told myself love could be engineered, predicted, controlled. That if I coded the perfect algorithm, I could keep my heart bulletproof." His laugh is sharp and hollow. "And it worked. God, it worked… until you stumbled—literally stumbled—into my life and sent the pieces shattering. You didn’t just slip through the cracks, Roz. You tore the whole damn wall down."

He steps closer, like gravity itself has surrendered. His voice drops, rough and raw. "When I found out about Jessica's match, I panicked. Not because you did anything wrong, but because you proved what I was too afraid to admit—that all my calculations, all my control, were just smoke and mirrors. Elaborate excuses to avoid the one variable I couldn't code for: risking my heart."

He exhales shakily, eyes shining with something unguarded, something that makes my heart leap into my throat. "Rosalind, I was a coward. I walked away from the best thing in my life because I was terrified of what it meant to actually feel. But real love? It isn’t safe. It isn’t tidy. It’s a goddamn Murphy’s Law parade of fuck-ups and fumbles… and that’s the only way I want it to be from now on. Because I'd rather lose myself in the beautiful, breathtaking wreckage of us than spend one more empty day pretending I can chart a course to happiness without you.”

His hands find my face, fingers warm and desperate, thumbs brushing away tears I didn’t even know were there. His forehead presses to mine, the words a whisper that brush across my skin. He sighs. "I’m done avoiding. Done hiding behind efficiency metrics. I love your reckless intuition, your perceptive soul—the way you waltzed into my perfectly ordered life and turned it upside down without even trying. I love that you matched Jessica with her perfect person while I was still too stubborn to see mine was standing right in front of me. Because your heart? It’s always been smarter than all my code could ever be."

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