Maybe this time

Title: “Maybe This Time”

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The first time Erin met Alex, it wasn’t fireworks or fate. It was simple. Ordinary. A shared cab on a rainy Tuesday because the train system had collapsed under the weight of a late spring storm. He offered her the dry seat and smiled like he didn’t have anywhere else to be.

She didn’t believe in coincidences, so she told herself it was just luck. Or bad timing.

Alex had a calmness to him that unnerved her. He didn’t text with urgency, didn’t play games, didn’t withhold affection to create tension. He listened—really listened—when she talked about her work, or her brother who’d moved across the country, or her favorite films that she had long since stopped recommending to anyone.

Erin had loved before. At least, she thought she had.

There was Ryan—who loved how she made him feel, not who she was. There was Jason, the on-again-off-again rhythm of chaos disguised as passion. And Laura, years ago, who taught her that even soft hands could leave bruises if they held on too tightly.

So now, at 34, with a steady job, a cat named Hemingway, and a well-rehearsed laugh she used when she didn’t want to get too close—Erin didn’t trust love. Not even when it looked like Alex.

One night, sitting across from him in her apartment, surrounded by half-eaten takeout and soft jazz humming from the speaker, he said it. Just like that.

“I think I’m falling in love with you.”

She froze. Not because she didn’t like hearing it. But because part of her wanted to believe him—and another part whispered, this is where it breaks.

He must’ve seen something shift in her face, because he softened his tone, “You don’t have to say anything back. I just needed you to know.”

And she didn’t. Not that night.

For days, she questioned everything. Not just him—but herself. Was she mistaking comfort for love? Was she waiting for the crash to make it feel real? Could love really be this… easy?

The truth was, she didn’t know what love looked like without the storm. Without the doubt. Without the need to prove herself worthy of it every single day.

So she did the only thing she knew how to do when fear clawed at her chest. She pulled away. Less frequent texts. Cancelled plans. She blamed deadlines. Exhaustion. “Just need a little space.”

But Alex didn’t chase her. He didn’t guilt her. He just said, “I’m here when you’re ready.”

Weeks passed. And the silence, once comforting, became heavy. She missed him. Not in the desperate, can’t-breathe-without-you kind of way. In the way you miss something that made you feel seen. Safe.

Erin stood outside his door one night, a bottle of wine in one hand and her heart in the other. He answered in sweatpants and a quiet smile.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever really been in love,” she said, voice cracking. “But I think I want to find out. With you.”

He didn’t rush to reply. He just stepped aside, letting her in.

And maybe—just maybe—this time, it was love.