The evening air felt thick, heavy with unspoken tension. Evan's thoughts were a whirlwind, spinning from one possibility to the next. It had been weeks since Isabelle had agreed to take things slow between them, and though he respected her space, there was an underlying restlessness in him, a feeling of being on the edge of something more. But each time he thought they were close to breaking through, Isabelle would retreat.
It had been an evening like any other, until he received a text from her—an invitation, but one that made his heart skip. Can we talk?
The message was simple, but there was a weight to it that had him locking his phone and grabbing his keys without a second thought.
When he arrived at Isabelle's apartment, the front door was slightly ajar. There was no usual greeting from her, no smile at the door. It felt... different, quieter, and Evan couldn't shake the sense that something was off.
He knocked lightly before pushing the door open. Isabelle was standing by the window, her silhouette dark against the city lights. She didn't turn around at first, just stared out into the night, her posture rigid and tense. Evan's stomach dropped, sensing the change in her.
"Isabelle?" he asked, his voice soft but laced with concern.
She didn't move. "I don't know if I can do this anymore, Evan," she said, her voice trembling ever so slightly. "I don't know if I can keep pretending that everything's fine."
His pulse quickened. "What do you mean? Is this about us?"
She turned around then, and Evan could see the weight of her words in her eyes. "I've been holding back. I thought if I gave it time, if I played it safe, it would all work out. But the truth is, I've been lying to myself, and to you."
Evan stepped forward, his brow furrowed. "Isabelle, I've told you already, I'm not going anywhere. You don't have to carry this alone."
She sighed, walking slowly toward him, her eyes never leaving his. "You don't understand. I've spent so long running from my past, burying everything. And now... now that I've started to feel something for you, I'm scared. I'm scared that I'll ruin this. That I'll push you away like I've pushed everyone else."
Evan's heart ached at the vulnerability in her voice. He could see the walls she had built, brick by brick, trying to protect herself from getting hurt again. And as much as he wanted to tear them down for her, he knew that wasn't something he could do. It had to be her choice, her decision to let go.
"You don't have to be perfect," he said softly, stepping closer to her. "You don't have to fix everything at once. Just... let me be here. For you."
She shook her head, looking down, her shoulders sagging with the weight of her words. "I don't know if I can trust that, Evan. I don't know if I can trust anyone anymore."
Evan reached out, gently tilting her chin up to meet his gaze. "I'm not asking you to trust me with everything right away. Just... let me show you that I'm not going to hurt you. Not like everyone else."
For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The city's hum outside felt miles away, as though they were in their own little world, suspended in time. Isabelle's eyes were searching his, as if looking for a reason to believe him, a reason to take that step forward.
Finally, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm scared, Evan. But... maybe I can try. Maybe I can learn to trust again."
Evan's chest tightened with a mixture of relief and hope. He smiled gently, his hand resting softly on hers. "We'll take it one step at a time, Isabelle. No rush. No pressure."
She gave a small nod, and for the first time in a while, a sense of peace settled between them. The walls she had built were still there, but they were no longer insurmountable. And as they stood there, together in the dim light of her apartment, Evan felt the first real spark of something that could, with time, turn into something more.