Sophie stared at her phone long after Jack's last message.
Her tea had gone cold. The apartment was silent, save for the occasional distant honk of a car outside and the soft hum of her refrigerator. Normally, she found the quiet comforting—predictable, controlled—but tonight, it felt suffocating.
She had almost said yes.
Her fingers had hovered over the keyboard, the words forming in her mind: Let's call. A simple sentence. Three words that could change everything.
But instead, she had hesitated. And in that hesitation, the moment passed.
Jack had let it go. He hadn't pressed, hadn't asked why. And that should have made her feel relieved. But it didn't.
She set the phone down, rubbing her temples. Why had she been so afraid?
It wasn't as if she and Jack were strangers—not really. They talked every night. Shared thoughts, fears, and dreams in a way she hadn't with anyone else. He knew things about her that even the people closest to her didn't.
And yet, the idea of hearing his voice—of making this real in a way that text messages never could—terrified her.
Because once they crossed that line, there would be no going back.
What if his voice changed everything? What if the easy connection they had online didn't translate into something more? What if it felt awkward, forced? What if she built up this moment in her head, only for it to fall apart?
Or worse—what if it felt even more real than it already did?
What if hearing his voice made this something she couldn't ignore?
She exhaled slowly, staring at the ceiling.
She wasn't someone who took risks. Her whole life had been built on structure, on making the right choices. Calculated. Practical. Safe.
But Jack was the opposite of safe.
And she had no idea what to do with that.
The next morning, Sophie threw herself into work.
She arrived at the university earlier than usual, drowning in research, emails, and lecture planning. She convinced herself that it was just another normal day. That she wasn't checking her phone too often. That she wasn't waiting for his name to light up her screen.
But she was.
Jack had a way of sneaking into her thoughts at the worst times. In the middle of a lecture, she caught herself wondering where he was, what city he was in today. At lunch, when her colleagues made weekend plans, she thought about the places he had traveled, the stories he had told her.
By the time she got home that evening, she was drained—not from work, but from pretending she wasn't thinking about him.
She unlocked her apartment door, tossing her bag onto the kitchen counter. She kicked off her shoes, shed her blazer, and collapsed onto the couch.
And almost instinctively, she reached for her phone.
Jack.
A new message.
She hesitated before opening it, her heart giving an annoying little jump as she read.
Jack: I have a serious question.
She rolled her eyes, already bracing for whatever nonsense was about to follow.
Sophie: Oh no. Here we go.
Jack: If we were stranded on a deserted island, who do you think would lose their mind first?
Her lips twitched. This was his way of making things feel normal again.
Sophie: You, obviously.
Jack: Excuse me?
Sophie: You need constant stimulation. You'd go crazy after a day without a city to explore.
Jack: I could adapt.
Sophie: You think you'd survive?
Jack: Absolutely. I'd make a hammock out of palm leaves and befriend a seagull. Meanwhile, you'd be overthinking every decision and making a pro/con list about which coconut to crack open first.
She let out a real laugh, sinking further into the couch.
This was them. This was what made it easy, what made it feel safe.
Sophie: Well, someone has to make logical decisions. You'd probably try to surf on a piece of driftwood and get eaten by a shark.
Jack: And you'd overthink yourself into starvation.
Sophie: We'd be a disaster.
Jack: A very entertaining disaster, though.
She smiled, tapping her fingers against the side of her phone.
The conversation carried on like that for over an hour—falling back into jokes, teasing, lighthearted nonsense. And for a little while, it was easy to pretend that nothing had changed.
But deep down, Sophie knew the truth.
Something had changed.
She could feel it in the way her stomach twisted when she saw his name on her screen. In the way she reread his words, imagining what his voice would sound like saying them aloud.
This wasn't just a distraction anymore.
It was something real.
And real things? They demanded decisions.
She could ignore it for now. She could keep pushing away the idea of meeting, of hearing his voice, of taking that next step.
But not forever.
Because waiting might have felt safe. But it wasn't enough anymore.
And sooner or later, she and Jack would have to face the question they had both been avoiding.
What are we waiting for?