The sunlight peeked through gauzy curtains as if it, too, was hesitant to disturb the peace.
Crystal stirred first.
Her bare shoulder glowed in the morning light, and her fingers instinctively reached for the warm presence beside her. When they found Justin's chest, rising and falling in steady rhythm, she smiled.
Her husband.
The word felt surreal. Sacred. Soft on the tongue and heavy in meaning.
They had fallen asleep tangled in each other after the wedding exhausted, blissful, barely speaking, just existing in the warmth of everything they'd just promised.
Now, in the quiet stillness of their honeymoon suite, reality felt sweeter than any dream.
She leaned over, brushing her lips softly across his.
His eyes blinked open, still lazy with sleep. "Hey, wife."
Crystal chuckled. "Hey, husband."
"Did last night happen, or did I imagine the whole thing?"
"Well, you spilled champagne on your tux and cried during your vows. So yeah… I think it was real."
Justin laughed, pulling her closer. "I didn't cry. I got emotional. That's different."
"Sure, babe."
He rolled on top of her gently, pinning her down with a mischievous smile. "You're never letting me live that down, are you?"
"Not a chance."
After a long, slow morning of whispered jokes and half eaten breakfast in bed, they finally got up.
Justin was the first to break the silence with a stretch and groan. "Okay, question: are we supposed to do something today? Like, is there a honeymoon plan?"
Crystal bit her lip. "You didn't check the email?"
He blinked. "There was an email?"
"Oh my God."
Laughing, she reached for her phone and opened their planner that had sent two weeks earlier. "We have a spa appointment at two and dinner on the rooftop at seven."
"Spa. Okay. Fancy massages. I can do that."
"And," she added with a teasing grin, "they're a couple's massage. You have to wear a robe."
He groaned. "Fine, but only if there are snacks after."
"There are always snacks."
At the spa, Crystal let herself melt beneath the pressure of soft hands and lavender oil. The past weeks of planning, family stress, and emotional weight unraveled beneath every breath.
She looked over at Justin, whose face was half buried in a pillow, eyes closed, a silly smile on his lips.
"You good?" she whispered.
"Mmhmm. If I die here, bury me in this robe."
They both giggled quietly, the sound muffled by soft music and the trickle of a nearby fountain.
That evening, they dressed up again just the two of them and headed to the rooftop where strings of lights flickered overhead, the cityscape stretched beyond them like a dream.
Justin wore a black shirt with rolled sleeves. Crystal wore a silky emerald green dress that made him stare for a full ten seconds before saying, "You're not real."
They ate slowly.
Talked about everything and nothing.
Laughed so loudly they got shushed by an older couple.
And somewhere between dessert and coffee, Justin reached across the table and took her hand.
"This still doesn't feel real," he said. "You being mine."
Crystal laced her fingers through his. "I've always been yours. I just didn't always know it."
He kissed the back of her hand.
"I want to make every day feel like this," he said. "Not just the first one."
Crystal looked into his eyes the same eyes that had once made her heart race with uncertainty and now made it beat with calm.
"Then let's promise not perfection," she whispered. "Just presence. Every single day."
Justin smiled, his voice low and sure.
"Promise."
Crystal had never imagined that something so beautiful could end with something so… ordinary.
They woke up the day after their honeymoon with alarm clocks ringing, emails piling up, and a mountain of laundry staring at them like a judgmental old aunt.
The fairytale had taken a bow.
Real life had reentered the room.
"Do I have to go back to work today?" Crystal muttered, wrapped in their duvet like a burrito.
Justin leaned over her, already dressed in a navy-blue button down, tie halfway done. "Technically, no. But you've already postponed twice."
"Why did we agree to come back to the city again?"
"Because someone panicked at the idea of falling behind on client pitches."
"That someone sounds like a responsible psycho."
Justin smirked, kissed her forehead, and said, "Then marry me again. Because I'm in love with her."
She groaned but rolled out of bed anyway. Marriage didn't pause real life. If anything, it emphasized it.
By 10 a.m., Crystal was in her office, staring at a laptop, replying to emails with fingers that still carried the weight of a wedding ring.
She loved it the ring, the promise behind it.but somehow, everything around her had stayed the same.
Same colleagues.
Same coffee maker with the same broken button.
Same pressure to perform.
But she wasn't the same.
And that small truth made all the difference.
Justin's day was no smoother.
He walked into a meeting that could've been an email, was asked to "update the status sheets" four different times, and got cornered by a coworker who had seen the wedding photos online.
"Your wife is gorgeous," the woman said with a grin.
He smiled. "I know."
"Like, really gorgeous. Is she a model?"
He laughed. "No. She's just... mine."
And somehow, saying it like that made the long meetings bearable.
That evening, Crystal returned home first.
She stood in the doorway of their apartment, still in heels, keys dangling from her fingers.
The place was quiet, just the faint tick of the clock on the wall and the soft hum of the refrigerator.
She walked into the living room and let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding.
Everything felt so... normal.
But that's what they'd wanted, wasn't it?
Not a life of drama or endless highs.
Just normal.
Together.
Justin came in thirty minutes later, dropping his bag by the door.
"You're home early," he said, loosening his tie.
Crystal smiled at him from the couch. "So are you."
They met in the kitchen. He kissed her cheek. She handed him a cup of tea. The silence between them wasn't awkward it was full.
"Wanna watch that show we never finished?" she asked.
"Only if you promise not to fall asleep halfway."
"No promises."
Later that night, wrapped in a blanket, feet tucked under Justin's leg, Crystal said, "I thought I'd feel more different. After everything. But I don't."
Justin looked over at her. "You do feel different. You're softer. Calmer. But in a good way."
She tilted her head. "You think?"
He nodded. "It's not about fireworks every day. It's about coming home to someone who sees you and still chooses you."
Crystal rested her head on his shoulder. "Then I think we're doing just fine."
Justin squeezed her hand. "We're doing perfect."
And just like that, real life didn't feel so heavy anymore.
Because with love like this even the ordinary was extraordinary.