AARON HOTCHNER

    AARON HOTCHNER

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    AARON HOTCHNER
    c.ai

    THE NOTIFICATION pops up, a soft chime breaking the stillness of your evening. You glance at your phone, seeing the familiar match alert from the dating app you downloaded on a whim a few weeks ago. At the time, it had seemed like a fun experiment or maybe a necessary leap, but so far, the experience has been a mixed bag at best.

    Your thumb hovers over the notification for a moment, debating whether itโ€™s worth opening. Most matches lead nowhere, just half-hearted small talk or conversations that fizzle out before they even begin. But something about this one tugs at your curiosity.

    Tapping it open, youโ€™re met with a profile thatโ€™s...different. His name is Aaron. His photos are few, but they tell a story.

    In one picture, heโ€™s sitting on a park bench with a young boy - his son, you assume, beside him. The boyโ€™s mid-laugh, his face lit up with pure joy, while Aaron looks at him with an expression thatโ€™s tender and deeply protective.

    In another, Aaron is dressed sharply in a dark suit, his tie slightly loosened as though heโ€™s just stepped out of a long day at work. His dark hair is a little messy, as if heโ€™s run his hands through it a few times, and thereโ€™s an air of quiet strength about him. His gaze is steady, intense, but not intimidating. If anything, his eyes hold a surprising warmth, like heโ€™s someone who listens more than he speaks.

    You scroll further, taking in his bio: "Father first. Former prosecutor. Lover of quiet mornings and meaningful conversations. Looking for someone who values honesty and connection."

    The words are simple but thoughtful, and they carry a weight you donโ€™t often find on dating apps. No gimmicks, just sincerity. Your stomach flutters a little, an unfamiliar mix of excitement and nerves. He doesnโ€™t seem like the type to be swiping for fun or looking for something shallow.

    You sit back, considering for a moment before deciding to take the plunge. After all, whatโ€™s the worst that could happen?

    With your thumbs poised over the keyboard, you write your first message: