The peace of the weekend lingered like a perfume Crystal didn't want to wash off. She returned to the city with her heart full and her head quiet until Monday morning came crashing in like thunder.
It started with a phone call.
"Crystal, I need you in my office," said Mr. Donovan, her department head at Dawson & Hart.
She stepped in to find him seated stiffly, a folder opened in front of him and an unreadable expression on his face.
"Everything okay, sir?"
He gestured to the seat across from him. "We've got a problem."
Crystal's stomach sank.
He slid the folder across the table. Inside were printouts of emails her emails, along with internal drafts of a recent campaign she'd led. Beside them, a competitor's campaign launch poster. Nearly identical.
"What… is this?"
Donovan leaned back. "We're being accused of intellectual theft. Mitchell & Co. claims our campaign plagiarized theirs. They released theirs a day earlier, and the designs are almost word for word."
Crystal flipped through the pages, disbelief turning into dread. She had written that pitch. She'd worked on it for weeks. From scratch.
"This is impossible," she said, voice cracking. "I created this from my own drafts. I swear."
"I believe you," Donovan said. "But the board doesn't know what to believe. We've launched an internal review. Until then, I have to suspend your access to client accounts."
It felt like someone had knocked the air out of her lungs. "You think I leaked this?"
"I think you're being set up," he said gently. "But that doesn't matter unless we prove it."
Crystal nodded numbly, rising from her chair. "Understood."
Justin was waiting for her at their favorite café that evening, tapping away at his laptop when she arrived. One look at her face and he shut the screen.
"What happened?"
She sat down, trying to keep her voice steady. "Someone stole my campaign and leaked it to a rival firm. Now I'm under investigation at work."
Justin's eyes darkened. "What? That's insane."
"I know I didn't leak it," she said, her fingers gripping the edge of the table. "But unless I prove how they got it, I'm suspended."
He reached across, took her hand. "You will prove it. And I'll help however I can."
Crystal nodded, but doubt lingered like fog. "What if I lose my job, Justin? What if I lose everything I've worked for?"
"Then you'll still have me," he said softly. "You're not alone in this."
But the days that followed were harder than she expected.
Emails she sent to colleagues went unanswered. Meetings she was supposed to attend were canceled. People she called friends now whispered behind closed doors.
It wasn't just professional it was personal.
She had always been proud of her work ethic. Her honesty. Her name.
Now it felt like it was all unraveling.
One evening, she came home late, dropped her bag on the floor, and broke into quiet sobs on the kitchen floor. Justin found her there fifteen minutes later, still dressed in her work clothes, tears soaking into her sleeves.
He knelt beside her, pulling her into his arms. "You're not broken," he whispered. "You're just bruised. And bruises heal."
"I don't know how to fight this," she whispered back.
"You don't have to fight alone," he said. "I'll help you dig until we find out who did this."
And he meant it.
The next day, Justin used his connections at MillerTech to pull server logs, check metadata trails, and track unusual activity in her email account. He worked with quiet focus, never once doubting her innocence.
Late one night, he called her.
"I found something," he said. "There was a download made from your account to a USB drive you never used. It was done from a terminal logged in at 9:07 p.m.—but your badge didn't scan into the building that night."
Crystal's eyes widened. "That means someone logged in under my name."
"I think I know who," Justin said. "And I have the security footage to prove it."
The next morning, Crystal walked into Donovan's office with the evidence in hand.
A junior associate someone she had mentored just months ago was the culprit. Caught on camera using her credentials after hours, copying the pitch, and later receiving a mysterious bank deposit.
Donovan's reaction was immediate: the associate was fired, and Crystal's name was cleared.
But the damage still stung.
That night, Justin met her at her apartment with her favorite Thai takeout and a small wrapped gift.
"You didn't have to—"
"I wanted to," he said.
Inside the box was a small silver compass. On the back was an engraving:
"For the moments you lose your way I'll always point you home."
Crystal stared at the gift, tears brimming in her eyes. "You keep showing up. Even when I break down. Even when things fall apart."
Justin cupped her face, his eyes soft. "That's what love is, Crystal. Not running when the storm hits but staying. Holding on."
She threw her arms around him, holding him tightly, her voice trembling. "You're the calm in my storm."
"And you," he whispered, "are my heart's compass."
That night, as they curled up together, wrapped in quiet and love, Crystal realized something deeper:
The storm had come. But it hadn't swept her away.
Because this time, she had someone to stand beside her.
And together, they were learning what love really meant.
Crystal had survived the storm barely. Her name had been cleared, her position reinstated, and her confidence, though shaken, was slowly stitching itself back together. Work colleagues apologized in hushed tones and offered friendly smiles again, but something had changed in her.
She wasn't just fighting to belong anymore.
She was learning to protect her peace.
And a huge part of that peace was Justin.
But even the strongest love is not immune to pressure. And soon, cracks began to show in the paradise they had built together.
It started small.
Justin became harder to reach during the day. Missed calls. Delayed replies. Short messages like:
"In back to back meetings. Will call tonight."
Except the call didn't come.
Crystal told herself not to overthink. He had a company to run. A life outside of her. But when it happened three days in a row, she couldn't ignore the growing tightness in her chest.
Then came the canceled plans.
Dinner reservations left unused. Movie nights rescheduled. Even her gentle reminders were met with an apologetic smile and vague explanations.
"I'm just under pressure with the new launch," Justin said one evening, kissing her cheek instead of her lips. "Give me a little time."
Crystal nodded, but inside, something flickered.
Distance.
Not physical but emotional. A step back. A wall forming.
One Saturday morning, Crystal showed up at Justin's office with coffee and croissants an effort to bridge the gap between them.
She tapped on his glass door and stepped in with a bright smile. "Breakfast surprise!"
But the surprise was hers.
He wasn't alone.
Sitting across from him, leaning forward with a smile that was just a bit too familiar, was Isabelle his ex.
Tall. Blonde. Polished. Confident.
Justin stood quickly. "Crystal, hey this isn't what it looks like."
Crystal forced a tight smile. "What does it look like?"
Isabelle rose, smoothing her dress. "We were just catching up. I'm in town consulting for a firm near here. Ran into Justin last week and thought I'd stop by."
Crystal nodded slowly. "How nice."
"Crystal," Justin said, stepping toward her, "I didn't mention it because it was nothing. I wasn't hiding it."
"You didn't mention your ex suddenly being back in your life?"
He hesitated. "I didn't think it mattered. I love you."
But Crystal felt something cold settle in her stomach.
It wasn't just about Isabelle. It was the pattern. The growing distance. The secrets, even if unintentional.
She handed him the coffee and croissants. "Enjoy your breakfast."
And she walked out without another word.
They didn't speak that night.
Justin sent texts. She didn't reply.
He called. She let it ring.
The silence between them once comfortable now felt jagged.
By Monday, Justin showed up at her apartment. No warning. Just him, standing at her door with tired eyes and hands buried in his pockets.
She opened the door slowly. "Hi."
"I hate fighting with you," he said softly.
"We're not fighting," she said. "We're… unraveling."
He winced. "Don't say that."
Crystal let him in but didn't reach for him. "Why didn't you tell me she was back?"
"I didn't think it was important."
"Justin, you disappeared emotionally for two weeks. Then I find you alone with your ex? How do you think that looks?"
He raked a hand through his hair. "I didn't handle it right. I was overwhelmed, and instead of leaning on you, I pulled away. That's on me."
She folded her arms. "I need to feel like we're a team. Not just when things are perfect. But when they're hard."
"I know," he said, voice hoarse. "And I'm sorry. I've been stressed about the launch, about us getting too serious too fast. I didn't realize I was shutting you out until I saw your face the other day."
Crystal's voice wavered. "You've become my safe place, Justin. But lately… I've felt like a guest in your world."
He stepped closer, taking her hands gently. "You're not a guest. You're the reason that world means anything."
Tears filled her eyes.
"I just need you to be honest," she whispered. "Even when it's messy. Even when it scares you."
He pulled her into a hug, his arms tightening around her like he never wanted to let go. "Then let's promise to stop pretending everything's fine when it's not. Let's talk. Even when it hurts."
She nodded against his chest. "Deal."
They stood there, two imperfect people choosing each other again.
And even though the storm hadn't passed completely, they had opened the door.
Together.