Page 53 of The Cyrano Situation

"Now?" Hart considered. "Now we eat these chocolate croissants that we've been ignoring. Then we figure out how tonavigate being colleagues and... whatever we're becoming. We take Jules's advice and write our own story, preferably one with a happy ending."

"I'm not very good at happy endings," I admitted. "I tend to anticipate complications."

"Then it's fortunate that I'm excellent at publicity and spin," Hart said with a grin. "Between your attention to detail and my optimism, we should balance out nicely."

I found myself smiling back, a lightness expanding in my chest that felt foreign but welcome. "A complementary partnership."

"Exactly." Hart broke off a piece of his croissant and offered it to me. "To new beginnings?"

I accepted the pastry, our fingers brushing. "To statistical anomalies and literary tropes."

"To us," Hart said simply, and leaned across the table to kiss me.

This kiss was different from our first—less urgent, more deliberate. A promise rather than a revelation. I cataloged every sensation: the taste of chocolate, the warmth of his lips, the faint scent of his cologne. For once, I didn't analyze or overthink; I simply experienced the moment in its fullness.

When we separated, Hart's eyes were bright. "You know, for someone who claims to be bad at romance, you're surprisingly good at kissing."

"Perhaps my skill set is more diverse than previously documented," I suggested.

"I look forward to conducting further research," Hart said, his smile promising things that made my pulse quicken.

Outside the coffee shop window, I could see Jules chatting with Ari, who had apparently taken a break. They were laughing, Jules gesturing animatedly as he explained something. A new story beginning as ours shifted into its next chapter.

"Hart," I said, suddenly serious, "thank you."

"For what?"

"For seeing me. The real me, not just who I thought I should be."

Hart reached out and brushed a strand of hair from my forehead, his touch gentle. "Thank you for letting me see you. And for seeing me as more than just the charming publicity guy."

"You are charming," I pointed out. "That's an objective fact, not a limitation."

"And you're brilliant. That's also a fact." He intertwined our fingers. "Maybe that's the moral of our Cyrano story—we don't need to be someone else to be loved. We just need to be brave enough to be ourselves."

As literary conclusions went, it wasn't particularly original. But sitting there with Hart, watching the late afternoon light cast patterns across our joined hands, I found I didn't mind the lack of originality. Some tropes became classics for a reason.

"I can work with that ending," I said, and leaned in to kiss him again.