She found herself opening up more than usual. About her routines. Her training mindset. The pressure to qualify for a major international event in the fall. “It’s like I only exist when I’m improving,” she said quietly one afternoon. “Standing still feels like falling behind.”
He nodded. “I get that. Different field, same feeling.” They started texting. Brief things—memes, food photos, the occasional check-in. One night, after a particularly rough training day, she mentioned she’d be skipping her workout the next morning.
Aiden replied, “Good. Your body’s going to thank you.” She laughed, “My body’s solid, don’t worry.” They started seeing each other on purpose. Lunch breaks turned into early dinners. A walk after her physio. A coffee run that turned into two hours in the park.
Maya had always kept her distance from people. But Aiden made it easy to forget the line she usually held. One evening, they sat on a bench near the hospital, both holding warm paper cups. She had just finished venting about a disappointing training session when he went quiet.