25.
Crystal
I rub the diamond pendant Justin bought me this weekend and smile as I sort through the papers in front of me. It’s one of those rare moments when everything just seems right. Justin and I are solid. He’s been nothing but supportive, seeming to understanding the ebbs and flows of my bipolar disorder with a grace that even Dr. McKay commends.
I flip open my technical writing textbook and skim back through the pages of notes I’ve taken. They’re meticulous and detailed, a reflection of how much I’m thriving in this class. In fact, I’ve enrolled in four classes for the spring semester. I can’t wait to dive further into this new career possibility.
With a contented sigh, I stand, stretching my arms above my head. There’s a slight shift on the horizon for my responsibilities here at the office, a decision I’ve mulled over for weeks now. EnergiFusion is going to see a little less of me. I’ve decided to step back from some of the day to day, but I can’t cut ties completely. Being a minority shareholder comes with a sense of duty, and there’s no way I’m leaving our accounting in Rhys’s unreliable hands. The guy doesn’t know the first thing about a profit-and-loss statement. He really drew the short straw when they divided up responsibilities. The only way I sleep at night is knowing that the accountant looks over our books and does all our taxes. The thought of Rhys on his own sends a shudder down my spine.
My phone buzzes with message from Justin—a simple heart emoji, but it’s enough to quicken my pulse. He doesn’t have to say much; his love is a constant. I type back a smiley face, my digital shorthand for everything is wonderful, because, at this moment of time, it genuinely is.
I should make sure the conference room is ready for today’s meeting, so I step down the hall to the room I’ve been setting up. I’ve laid out the carefully organized packets on the table for each of us and two of SHN’s founders. Pride tingles within me as I look at them; these are more than just papers. They represent growth and potential.
I reach out, running a finger along the smooth edges of the presentations, ensuring not a single page is out of place. The list of manufacturing locations is comprehensive, though South San Francisco and San Jose stand out as frontrunners, each with their own set of advantages. It’s crucial that we make the right choice, and I’m confident in the groundwork I’ve prepared.
A soft chime signals Mason and Dillon’s arrival from SHN. Their voices precede them, a low murmur of conversation that grows louder as they approach the conference room. This is it, the moment to discuss the future, to share visions and align strategies.
With a deep breath, I scoop up my notepad and step into the hallway to greet them, anticipation coursing through me. I’m ready to dive into the details, to negotiate and articulate the vision I have so clearly in my mind.
But before I can even see them, Rhys’s hand lands gently on my shoulder. “We’ve got this,” he says, and there’s an apologetic tilt to his smile.
“Excuse me?” My heart skips, and confusion prickles at the back of my neck.
“This meeting’s for stakeholders, Crystal. We need to present a united front, and…” His voice trails off, but his meaning is clear.
The color drains from my face. This is supposed to be my meeting too, my input valued, my efforts recognized. He’s going to take credit for all the work I did. I take a step back. “But I have a share,” I remind him. “When I came back from Mexico, I signed paperwork.”
Rhys’s expression shifts from polite dismissal to something resembling pity, mingled with confusion. He opens his mouth to speak, but before he can articulate whatever defense he’s mustered, Justin appears at the end of the hallway with the guys from SHN.
The sight of him sends a jolt through me as he approaches; his face is ashen, drawn tight in a way that signals bad news. “Crystal,” he says, his voice low and urgent. He doesn’t wait for a response before gently grasping my arm and guiding me away from the conference room, away from the doorway that separates me from decisions being made about my own future.
The others file into the room, and once we’re out of earshot, tucked into the alcove by the water cooler, he hesitates. His eyes search mine, and I see his inner turmoil, though I don’t yet understand it. Finally, he exhales sharply, his words coming out in a rush. “I gave you some of my shares,” he admits. “I couldn’t get the others to agree.”
My mouth falls open.
“Because what’s mine is yours, Crystal. That’s how it should be.” He reaches out, as if to offer comfort, but I step back, stung by the revelation.
Betrayal and anger swirl within me as I piece together the implications. The guys… They never saw me as one of them. Not truly. They don’t trust me enough to give me a stake in EnergiFusion. Instead, they let Justin carve out a piece of his own claim to keep the peace, to keep me appeased.
“Justin…” My voice cracks, betraying the hurt I’m trying so hard to swallow. “Do they dislike me so much? Was I just…what? Charity to you?”
His face crumples. “No, never charity,” he insists, reaching for me again. This time, I don’t move away, but I don’t lean into his touch either. “You are everything. They just… They can’t see past their own egos. I’m sorry, Crystal. I wanted things to be right, so I tried to make sure you had a share the only way I could.”
“Wait—what do you mean you tried?” Can it be possible that there’s more bad news to come? I wrap my arms around myself, a self-imposed barrier to hold back the onslaught of emotions. “Am I an owner of this company or not?”
Justin looks at the floor. “It turns out what I did isn’t legal without the signatures of the others… I’m sorry. I want to fix it, but I still haven’t figured out how.”
My mouth falls open, and my vision tunnels, going black around the edges.
“Everything will be okay,” Justin murmurs, sounding more like he’s trying to convince himself. “We’ll talk about it tonight, once I get home, all right? We’ll figure it out together.” His voice is steady, but his eyes plead in a way that suggests he knows the gravity of what he’s asking of me—trust, patience, forgiveness where it may not be deserved.
But there’s a storm brewing inside me. I turn on my heel and head down the hallway. If I stay, I’ll say something I’ll regret. Justin just watches as I scoop up my things and leave.
Downstairs, the rideshare app blinks at me, a glaring reminder that I’m retreating. My finger hovers over the confirm button, and with a press, my escape is in motion.
As the car rolls away from what once felt like a joint venture, the rideshare will deliver me to the Sullivans’, our current home. But it’s not ours even temporarily, not really. It’s his, and I’m just a guest cloaked in the illusion of something more that isn’t there. The thought stings, so I shift my focus to the screen of my phone, scrolling through listings for Berkeley apartments.
“Somewhere sunny,” I whisper to myself, craving light to chase away the shadows. A studio near campus catches my eye. It’s smaller, humbler than the apartment we were all sharing, but it will just be me living there, and maybe that’s what I need, a space untouched by compromise or false promises.
I ask the car to drop me off as we sit in traffic. Exiting, I’m met with the familiar whoosh and clatter of the BART station. I swipe my transit card at the turnstile. Each click of the rotating bars marks a step away from the life I knew.
The train jostles rhythmically, soothing in its predictability, unlike the upheaval in my head. I ride it to the university, like I’ve done for months. And I walk into one rental property after another. I survey each apartment with a critical eye, but it’s no use. They’re all lacking, each one a stark contrast to the comfortable nest Justin and I were planning for our house together. One doesn’t have a dishwasher, another doesn’t have a washer/dryer, and several have showers so small that my elbows would hit the wall when I washed my hair. These things seem trivial until you’ve had them. Now, I don’t want to live without them.
Finally, I let out a breath and find a bench in the California sun. It offers warmth but no solace. I sit amidst students and street musicians, tears betraying the turmoil within. How did I end up here, trapped between indignation and heartbreak?
“Stupid,” I mutter, chastising myself for the anger boiling in my veins. Justin lied, yes, but his pale face flashes in my mind, that tremor in his voice. He was trying to do the right thing, desperate to keep me close, keep me involved, yet keep the peace among his partners. But love shouldn’t have to dress up as deceit.
The sun dips lower, and my phone remains silent in my lap. No rescuing calls, no messages of apology, just the feeling of being pushed out echoing in my memory.
Finally, my phone pings.
Teagan: I’m having a shit day. Bubbles for happy hour?
Me: Sure. I’m in Berkeley. I’ll be there in 40.
The golden hue of the setting sun reflects off the glass fa?ade of Bubbles by the time I approach. I push open the door, the chill from the air conditioning brushing against my skin like an unexpected shiver. Teagan’s already perched elegantly on a high stool at the bar, her posture relaxed but her eyes sharp. She’s always been an anchor in the storm, the kind of friend who sees through my brave face.
“Hey,” I greet her, feigning a smile.
“Crystal!” She slides off the stool and gives me a quick hug. “You look like you’ve been through the wringer. Tough day at school?”
“Have you heard?” My throat tightens as I climb onto the stool beside her. “About EnergiFusion, I mean.”
“Heard what? That all your hard work is finally paying off?” Teagan waves it off, her tone breezy, yet there’s a hint of something more behind her casual demeanor. “I’ve missed you, you know. You all don’t spend any time at the incubator these days. It’s been too long since we caught up.”
I let out a halfhearted laugh. “Yeah, it’s been crazy.”
“Best part?” Teagan raises her eyebrows and signals the bartender for two champagne cocktails. “You don’t have to deal with greedy shareholders prioritizing money over good business sense.”
I nod. Her words are meant to be comforting, a toast to our efforts. But they land heavily in my chest, a reminder of the stake in the company that was never really mine. I accept the flute filled with bubbling liquid gold.
“Cheers,” Teagan says, lifting her glass.
“Cheers,” I echo, the clink a reminder of my world falling apart.
Her eyes narrow. “What is it?”
The chill of the glass is a stark contrast to the heat rising in my cheeks. My fingers tighten around the stem, anchoring me to the present as I force the words out. “Justin…he said they’d agreed to cut me in, make me part owner. That was the deal when I came back to EnergiFusion after our trip to Mexico.” My voice trembles. “But today…I found out that’s not true at all. The paperwork I signed… It was a transfer. He tried to give some of his share to me. The other guys didn’t agree, didn’t know anything about it, and it turns out, without their consent, the transfer wasn’t legal. But he never told me.”
Teagan’s eyes darken, her lips pressed into a thin line. “Crystal, that’s just— How could they? After everything you’ve done? The late nights, the strategies, your brilliant work? It’s because of you that they got such great deals from the showcase.”
I nod, feeling the sting of tears. “I feel so betrayed, Teagan. Justin says he wants to fix it, but how? It’s like I’m not worth being a real part of it at all.”
She reaches over to squeeze my hand. “You are worth it, Crystal. More than they’ll ever realize. Clearly, Justin knows that.”
We sit there, two flutes of champagne between us, and I let myself lean on her strength.
“Look at it this way,” she continues, lifting her glass with a determined glint in her eye. “You’re in a good position, regardless of their nonsense. You have a fantastic salary now, and you have a man willing to go to great lengths because he loves you.”
I take a sip, the bubbles dancing on my tongue as I consider her words. It’s hard to see any angle where I come out on top, but Teagan wouldn’t say it if she didn’t believe it.
“Make them grovel, Crystal,” she insists. “They need to realize your worth. And as for Justin…” She pauses, her gaze softening. “Try to see it from his side too. He needed you there, and he wasn’t going to let the guys’ attitude interfere with that. He’s trying to keep the peace, keep everyone working together.”
Her advice is the slap in the face I need. Of course. Justin knew I wouldn’t come back without a raise and a stake in the company.
“Okay,” I whisper. “Okay, I’ll try.”
“Good,” Teagan nods, raising her glass once more. “Now, let’s enjoy these cocktails and plot our next move. Because no matter what, Crystal, we’re going to come out of this shining.”
“Shining,” I repeat, clinking glasses with her, a semblance of determination taking root within the chaos of my heart.