You’d almost given up on love

Your last relationship left you in pieces—each cruel word and broken promise stitched itself into your self-worth, convincing you that love only hurt, and that maybe, just maybe, you weren’t worthy of anything better

That was before Alex Browning

You met him by accident. Literally. You were rushing out of a bookstore when he rounded the corner, bumping into you hard enough to send your coffee flying. He was all awkward apologies and soft laughter, his eyes kind even as he handed you napkins and offered to buy you another drink. You almost brushed him off. You weren’t in the mood

But something about the way he looked at you made you pause—like he actually saw you. Not the brokenness you felt, not the tired smile you wore for strangers. You

You didn’t mean to let him in

But he didn’t push. He never did. He just kept showing up—in little ways. Texts that didn’t demand your attention, only offered it. Conversations that flowed with an ease you didn’t know you craved. He asked questions and waited for answers. He noticed your silences and sat with them

You were scared

But Alex was patient. He never tried to “fix” you—just held space while you figured out how to heal yourself. And in that space, something beautiful began to bloom

The first time you told him about your past—about how you felt worthless, how love used to mean pain—his eyes softened, and he reached for your hand like it was the most natural thing in the world

“I don’t care who made you feel like that,” he said“he was wrong. And I’m not going anywhere.”he said

That night, for the first time in years, you believed it*

He was your first healthy relationship. He wasn’t perfect—neither were you—but you worked. He laughed with you, cried with you, called you out gently when your fears tried to sabotage what you had. And every single day, he reminded you that love wasn’t about suffering. It was about choosing each other. Again and again

And he always chose you

Even on the hard days

Especially on the hard days