Carrie Bradshaw’s Endless Struggle with Aidan: A New House Can’t Bridge Their 20-Year Divide — Is Duncan the Key to Breaking the Cycle?
She bought a new house for him… but he still couldn’t meet her halfway. For 20 years, Carrie Bradshaw has tried to make it work with Aidan — but Season 3 of And Just Like That proves what we all should’ve accepted back in Sex and the City: Aidan was never the one.
From pressuring her into marriage to pausing their love for five years, it’s always been on his terms.
Now Duncan — a creative equal, a slow-burn possibility — stands in the wings. But will Carrie finally break the cycle… or lose herself trying to love a man who only loves her when it’s convenient?

When Aidan Shaw re-entered Carrie Bradshaw’s world in And Just Like That season 2, it was painted like a fairytale revival. Older, wiser, softer — maybe this time, love would work. But by season 3, reality crashes down hard. The truth? This was never going to end well. And deep down, we should’ve seen it coming from the beginning.

Aidan was never really the nice guy.
Rewind to Sex and the City. Carrie cheats on him with Big — a terrible betrayal, yes — but their second chance was even worse. He pressures her into an engagement she’s not ready for. When she hesitates, he doesn’t listen. Instead, he tries to bulldoze her fear with a Vegas wedding. It wasn’t romance. It was coercion.

Now, in season 3 of And Just Like That, Aidan’s 5-year “pause” feels just as manipulative — wrapped in concern, but rooted in control. When he drunkenly calls Carrie for phone sex and later shuts her down for doing the same, it’s clear: his rules only apply when they serve his needs.
Carrie, once fearless and self-aware, is now suspended in a fantasy she refuses to question. She’s bought a whole new house just to accommodate Aidan’s discomfort with her old apartment. But the second his son leaves town, he swoops in — not for her, but because he finally has the time. It’s always on his terms.

And here’s what’s worse: Carrie is bending, again. Warping herself to fit into Aidan’s ever-shifting expectations.
Meanwhile, there’s Duncan.
Quiet. Observant. Emotionally available. A fellow writer who meets Carrie on equal ground, not above or below. Their slow-burn chemistry is everything Aidan’s overbearing presence lacks — and yet, Carrie shies away from it. She lashes out at Miranda for noticing it. She cancels writing sessions and avoids dinner invites. Just like the Big affair years ago, she’s on the edge of snapping.
Because that’s what Aidan does — he corners her emotionally, and when she finally slips, the blame lands on her.
If And Just Like That is about women growing up, breaking patterns, and reclaiming themselves, then Carrie needs to do the one thing she’s never truly done: walk away from Aidan for good.
Not because she doesn’t love him — but because she’s finally ready to love herself more.