You didn’t mean to fall for Joe Burrow.

It started slow. Quiet check-ins. Late-night phone calls that never demanded more than you could give. He never pressed when you hesitated. Never made you explain why your walls were so high. But somehow, day by day, he helped steady the ground beneath you.

Now, sitting on his couch, wrapped in one of his old Bengals hoodies, you realize it feels safe. Not just the room—him. And it terrifies you.

He notices the flicker of worry in your eyes. “You okay?” he asks, voice low, calm—like he already knows.

You swallow. “I just… I’m not used to this. To someone like you.”

Joe shifts closer, resting his forearms on his knees. “Someone like me?”

“You’re kind. Patient. You don’t make me feel small.” Your voice cracks. “I’m scared it won’t last. That I’ll mess it up… or that you’ll leave.”

Joe’s brow furrows as he reaches for your hand, threading his fingers through yours with quiet certainty. “Hey,” he says, squeezing gently. “I’m not here to fix you. I’m here to know you. All of you. The good, the scars—everything. You don’t have to earn my care.”

You search his eyes, trying to find the catch. But all you see is sincerity. A man who isn’t in a rush, who isn’t afraid of the weight you carry.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Joe adds, voice soft but firm. “So take your time. I’m in this—with you. And when you’re ready to trust, I’ll still be right here.”

And for the first time in a long time, you believe it.