Off Script

Chapter 10

They hadn't seen each other in over ten weeks.

The moment Avery stepped into the foyer of their apartment, it felt surreal. She stood in the doorway, her heels still on, bags at her feet, the familiar scent of him clinging to the air like a ghost.

Michael was already there—waiting.

She hadn't told him she was coming home early.

And maybe... he hadn't expected her to.

He rose slowly from the couch when he saw her, eyes locking onto hers like he didn't know whether to be relieved or terrified.

Avery didn't move.

Neither did he.

The silence between them was a living, breathing thing. Heavy. Hollow. Cracking under the weight of everything unsaid.

She finally spoke.

"Hey."

"Hey," he whispered back, voice thick.

For a beat, they just stood there—two people who used to know everything about each other and now barely knew how to say hello.

Avery stepped inside, letting the door click shut behind her. The quiet echoed.

"I was going to call," she said softly, dropping her bag near the table. "But I figured if we're gonna do this... we should do it in person."

Michael's jaw clenched.

"I'm glad you did."

But he didn't smile. Didn't reach for her.

And she felt the distance like a blade.

Something was wrong.

Something more than everything else.

"Michael," she said slowly, carefully, "what is it?"

His eyes dropped to the floor.

He didn't answer right away.

That was all she needed.

Her stomach twisted.

She stepped back like she'd been struck.

"You did something."

He looked up, eyes filled with regret and guilt and all the things she wasn't ready to hear.

"Avery," he said gently, taking a step toward her. "It wasn't—"

"What did you do?" Her voice cracked, and her hands started to shake.

Michael exhaled, long and slow.

"I kissed someone."

Silence.

Just that.

No excuses.

No buildup.

Just three words that shattered the air.

Avery stared at him, frozen.

"Who?" she whispered.

"One of the costume assistants. In Berlin. It... it was a moment. I was tired. Lonely. It didn't mean anything."

Avery let out a breathless, broken laugh.

"Didn't mean anything," she repeated. "God, Michael."

"I'm not making excuses," he said quickly. "I just—I wanted you to hear it from me. Before anything else got twisted. Before anyone leaked something or tried to spin it."