Chapter 6 - Yours to Begin With

Chapter 6: Yours to Begin With

Crystal tried to make the rebound work.

He was nice — too nice. The kind that texted good morning, good night, and every minute in between. He liked her a little too much. Gave too much too fast. Said “I miss you” before she even remembered what his voice sounded like.

At first, she told herself it was sweet. After the emotional wasteland of her last relationship, maybe sweetness was what she needed.

But soon, sweetness turned sticky. He wanted updates on her whereabouts. Got moody when she didn’t reply fast enough. Made her feel like she owed him explanations for simply needing space.

And space — to Crystal — wasn’t absence.

It was freedom.
To breathe. To be.

She ended things before it got worse. Told him, kindly but firmly, “I don’t think I’m what you’re looking for.”
What she didn’t say was: You never really saw me. You just liked the idea of being loved by someone like me.

After that, she focused on herself again. Buried herself in projects. Reconnected with the ABIX crew. She smiled more easily. Laughed louder. Let herself remember who she was before relationships tried to reshape her.

So when she met him, it wasn’t at a lecture hall or a university club.

It was through her part-time work — a freelance tech sales gig for a local event. He was there, running logistics. Calm under pressure. Tactful with difficult clients. Didn’t flinch when someone snapped. And he noticed her.

Not the surface her — not the bright, enthusiastic Crystal who could hold a room with her energy.

He noticed the moments she paused.

When she tugged at her necklace out of stress. When she stepped in to defuse a conflict with empathy, not ego. When she stayed behind to help the interns clean up because she couldn’t stand seeing people overwhelmed.

Their first real conversation wasn’t flirty. It was about burnout.

“You’re good at this,” he’d said. “But you’re stretching yourself too thin.”

She raised a brow. “You just met me.”

“Yeah,” he said, with a small smile. “But I know the look. I see it in the mirror sometimes.”

And just like that, a crack appeared in her walls.

He didn’t chase her. He approached.

Consistent. Respectful. Bold when it mattered.

He asked her out over coffee after a debrief. Told her upfront, “I’m interested. I know you’ve been through things — I have too. But if you’re willing, I’d like to take you out properly. No games.”

Crystal, for once, didn’t feel the need to assert control.
She just smiled. “Alright. Let’s see where this goes.”

Dating him felt different.

He wasn’t afraid of her confidence.
He didn’t shrink when she got passionate, or retreat when she needed alone time.
He matched her step for step — not to compete, but to walk beside her.

She called the shots, sure. But he never let her feel like she was carrying the relationship alone.

They balanced — her fire, his calm. Her plans, his grounding.
He saw her — not just the version she projected, but the quiet one beneath.

And that… that made all the difference.

She told Aleem about him over lunch one day. He raised an eyebrow, mid-chew.

“Wait, an outsider?” he teased.

She laughed. “Yes. Shocking. I know.”

“You seem… steady.”

“I am,” she said. “It’s different this time. He doesn’t want to fix me or worship me. He just shows up. And I didn’t realize how much I needed that.”

Aleem nodded, smiling faintly. “Sounds like you found peace.”

Crystal looked down at her bowl. “Not found. Chose. I chose better this time.”