Saturday came with a flurry of nerves. Crystal had faced boardroom pressure, PR crisis management, and last minute campaign disasters but nothing quite prepared her for this.
She was meeting Justin's friends.
Not just any friends. The friends. The ones he'd built MillerTech with. The ones who had been with him since the beginning through failure, success, and everything in between. The inner circle.
And Crystal? She was the new variable.
She stood in front of the mirror for the fifth time that morning, fidgeting with her blouse, adjusting her jeans, then second guessing everything all over again.
"Breathe," she whispered to herself.
Her phone buzzed.
Justin:
Just a heads-up Liam is sarcastic, Rachel will interrogate you, and Dean thinks he's funnier than he is. But they're harmless. I promise.
Crystal:
Is there a secret code word if I need to escape?
Justin:
Yes. Pineapple pizza. I'll know to fake a fire drill.
She laughed, tension easing slightly.
By noon, they were seated at a rooftop café with a sprawling view of the city skyline. The table was large, the laughter already loud. Justin pulled out a seat for her beside him, his hand brushing her back comfortingly.
"Everyone," he said, standing slightly to get their attention, "this is Crystal. Be nice or I'm revoking your party invites for life."
"Threats already?" said a tall, broad shouldered man with a mischievous smirk Liam. "I like her already. She must be worth it."
Crystal smiled nervously. "I'm not sure if that's a compliment or a test."
"Both," said Rachel, a confident redhead in a sleek jumpsuit. "But don't worry we've all been dying to meet the woman who has Justin acting like a lovesick teenager."
Justin groaned. "Rachel, I swear—"
"What? It's true," she said, grinning. "He's been singing sappy songs in the breakroom."
"I knew I heard Coldplay," Dean added, pretending to gag.
Crystal laughed, the warmth of the group's energy wrapping around her. They were teasing, yes but it wasn't cruel. It was protective. Real. And strangely comforting.
As the lunch progressed, Crystal began to relax. She found herself drawn into their stories how they built MillerTech from Justin's garage, how they'd fought over code bugs and business decisions, and how Rachel once threatened to delete the entire system if the guys didn't give her a proper office.
"And Justin?" Liam said, leaning toward Crystal. "He's the glue. He kept us together when things fell apart. Doesn't talk about it, but he carried us through hell."
Crystal glanced at Justin, who looked slightly embarrassed but didn't interrupt.
"He has a habit of trying to fix things," Rachel added, her tone softer now. "Even when he's the one breaking."
That made Crystal pause. She looked at Justin again really looked. He always seemed so put together, so calm. But there was depth behind his eyes. Things he carried alone.
Later, as the group dispersed Liam off to the gym, Rachel to her design studio, Dean to catch a soccer game Justin and Crystal lingered on the rooftop, the sun beginning to dip low in the sky.
"You did great," he said, brushing her hand with his thumb. "They like you."
"They're amazing," Crystal said sincerely. "It's rare to see a team like that."
"They're more than a team," he said. "They're family."
She looked up at him. "They really care about you."
He nodded, then grew quiet for a beat. "They've seen me at my worst. After my mom passed… I shut down. I didn't leave the house for weeks. Liam kept showing up. Rachel made meals. Dean sat with me in silence when I didn't want to talk."
Crystal touched his hand gently. "I didn't know."
"I don't talk about it often," he said. "But I want you to know that part of me."
"Thank you for trusting me with it," she said softly.
He turned to face her completely, lifting her hand to his lips. "You're not just someone I'm seeing, Crystal. You matter to me. A lot."
Her heart fluttered in that vulnerable, open way it only did with him.
"I feel the same, Justin."
They stood together on that rooftop, the city unfolding below them, the wind tousling their hair and words. And in that moment, Crystal felt herself falling even harderfor the man, the story behind him, and the life he'd let her into.
Weeks later,
Crystal stood in her childhood bedroom, a place that hadn't changed much since she'd moved out years ago. The faded posters on the wall, the old bookshelf lined with YA novels, and the small desk where she'd written her first story all remained, frozen in time. It felt like stepping into a memory comforting and suffocating all at once.
Her mother's voice echoed from the kitchen downstairs. "Crystal! Did you see the soup I made for you?"
"Yes, Mama!" she called back. "Smells amazing!"
She had made the trip back home for her mother's birthday a promise she'd kept every year. This time, though, her mind wasn't entirely present. Justin's smile, his touch, the way he looked at her like she was the only thing in the world—all of it played on a loop in her head.
And yet, coming back here reminded her of all the things he didn't know.
Of everything she hadn't told him yet.
Her phone buzzed. It was a message from Justin.
Justin:
Survived Rachel's team meeting. Barely.
Missing you.
How's Mom Gomez?
Crystal:
She's well. Already overfeeding me.
I told her about you. She's… curious.
(In the "Does he want marriage?" kind of way 😅)
Justin:
Tell her I plan to impress her someday.
And also that I do, in fact, want marriage eventually.
With the right person.
Crystal stared at the message, a mix of warmth and fear blooming in her chest. Marriage? The idea wasn't terrifying but the timeline felt like it was rushing toward her.
Because there was still so much he didn't know.
Like her father.
And the scars he left behind.
That night, Crystal sat at the kitchen table with her mother, both of them sipping tea while the smell of fried plantains lingered in the air. Her mother studied her the way only a mother could.
"You're glowing," she said, tapping Crystal's hand. "It's this man you mentioned?"
Crystal smiled, setting her mug down. "His name is Justin. He's… different. Kind. He makes me feel safe."
Her mother's face softened. "Then he's a good one. But Crystal, remember what I told you,you can't build love on silence. Secrets rot the foundation."
Crystal nodded slowly. "I know, Mama."
"Have you told him about your father?"
Crystal looked away.
"I'm scared," she admitted. "What if it changes how he sees me?"
Her mother reached across the table, gripping her hand tightly. "If he's the man you say he is, it won't."
Back in the city two days later, Crystal met Justin for dinner. They were seated in a quiet corner of a rustic Mediterranean restaurant. The mood was light at first he told her about Dean's failed attempt at salsa dancing and a hilarious client meeting with a confused investor.
But Crystal couldn't shake the heaviness pressing against her chest.
"Justin," she said quietly as they finished their meal. "Can we take a walk?"
He studied her face. "Of course."
They walked along the riverside, the moon casting silver ripples over the water. She reached for his hand, needing to anchor herself.
"There's something I haven't told you," she said finally. "Something important."
Justin stopped walking, turning to face her.
"You can tell me anything," he said gently.
She took a shaky breath. "My father… wasn't a good man. He was strict to the point of cruelty. Controlling. He made my mother feel worthless. And me? I was always the disappointment. Too opinionated. Too ambitious."
Justin's face tensed with quiet anger, not at her, but at what she endured.
"He left when I was sixteen. We haven't heard from him since. I don't talk about it because… I learned how to bury it. But I still carry the fear that it shaped me in ways I don't fully understand."
Justin cupped her face, brushing away the single tear that slipped down her cheek.
"Crystal," he said softly, "your past doesn't define you. But your strength? Your resilience? That is you. And I don't love you despite your past I love you more because of it."
She froze. "You… love me?"
He didn't flinch. "Yes. I do."
She stared at him, heart pounding.
And then she whispered, "I love you too."
The words hung in the air between them, fragile and powerful.
He pulled her into a warm, steady embrace. "Whatever scars you carry, we carry them together now. Okay?"
Crystal buried her face in his chest, relief flooding her like a wave. For the first time in her life, she felt truly seen and accepted.
And as they stood by the water, holding on to each other, she realized something:
This was love. Not the picture perfect kind. But the real, messy, honest kind.
And she wouldn't trade it for anything.