Chapter 16

The following Sunday, a beautiful young woman of Brazilian descent named Chrysti Oliveira was driving down Peachtree Road in Brookhaven, Georgia just outside of Atlanta in her Blue Jeep Wrangler.

Chrysti tapped her fingers on the steering wheel, bobbing her head slightly to the reggaeton track playing through her Jeep’s speakers. It was a gorgeous Sunday afternoon, the kind of day that made Atlanta feel alive. The sun was shining, a slight breeze rustling the trees, people out and about. She had just left a brunch spot with some friends and was heading toward the gym to get a quick workout in before settling in for the evening.

As she approached the intersection at Peachtree Road, she flicked on her turn signal to make a left. Just as she began her turn, a truck from the opposite side suddenly swung into a U-turn, cutting directly into her path.

CRASH.

The impact wasn’t massive, but it was enough to jolt her forward, the seat belt digging into her chest. Her foot slammed on the brake instinctively as her hands gripped the wheel. Her heart raced, and for a split second, she just sat there, stunned.

Then the rage hit.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Chrysti shouted, ripping off her seatbelt. She threw the door open and stormed out, her ponytail swinging behind her. She could already see the dent on the side of her Jeep, and the frustration boiled over instantly.

“Hey, asshole! Did you not see me turning?!” she snapped, her Brazilian accent sharpening her words as she stormed toward the other vehicle.

The door to the black Ford F-150 swung open. A man stepped out.

Chrysti came to an abrupt halt.

Damn.

The guy was tall, broad-shouldered, and well built. His skin was a smooth, warm brown, and he had a sharp jawline, full lips, and deep-set eyes that gave him an air of quiet confidence. His haircut was fresh, his beard cleanly shaped, and the way his white T-shirt clung to his chest and arms made it painfully obvious that he worked out regularly.

For a moment, she forgot she was supposed to be furious.

Then he spoke.

“Are you okay?” His voice was deep, genuine concern lacing his tone as his eyes scanned her for injuries rather than assessing the damage to their vehicles.

Chrysti blinked. She had been fully prepared for a defensive, arrogant asshole who would blame her for the accident. Instead, he was checking to see if she was hurt.

Still, she wasn’t about to let him off easy.

“I’m fine,” she said, crossing her arms, though the adrenaline still made her pulse race. “But my Jeep isn’t! What the hell were you thinking making a U-turn like that?!”

The man exhaled and ran a hand over his short fade, looking at the damage on both vehicles.

“Yeah, that was on me,” he admitted without hesitation. “I thought I had more space before you turned. That’s my fault.”

Chrysti narrowed her eyes. Wait. Did he just ... take accountability? No excuses? No blaming her? That threw her off. She had two immediate instincts. One was to keep yelling at him because, goddammit, he hit her car. But the other, far more annoying instinct, was to acknowledge that this guy was actually decent so far.

Still, her pride wouldn’t let her let up just yet. “You better have insurance,” she huffed, placing a hand on her hip.

He smirked slightly, as if amused by her fire, but nodded. “I do. And I’ll take care of it. Whatever needs to be fixed.”

Chrysti glanced back at the damage. Her Jeep had a noticeable dent on the left side of her bumper, and it was hanging off slightly. His truck had a noticeable dent and scrape, but nothing that would keep either of them from driving away.

“What’s your name?” she asked, pulling out her phone.

“Jalen,” he replied. “Jalen Moss.”

She typed it into her notes. “License and registration?”

Jalen pulled out his wallet and handed over his license, letting her snap a picture of it. “Mind if I get yours too?”

Chrysti sighed. Fair. She handed him hers, watching as he snapped a picture as well.

“Look, I really am sorry,” Jalen said after a beat, looking her in the eye. “I wasn’t trying to be reckless. I should’ve been more careful.”

Chrysti blew out a breath, some of her anger cooling now that the situation was being handled like actual adults.

“ ... Well, you’re lucky I’m not a crazy person who’s gonna try and sue you or something,” she muttered, slipping her phone back in her pocket.

Jalen chuckled. “Yeah? What kind of person are you then?”

Chrysti opened her mouth to respond, then paused. Why did his voice sound so ... teasing? Her dark brown eyes met his, and she realized he was enjoying this. And worse, a tiny part of her was enjoying it too.

Jalen had felt it. That same warm pull deep in his gut, the one he had felt six times before.

NO.

“Fuck man.” He thought. Not when he had just literally crashed into this woman’s life, literally.

But there it was, undeniable. The moment he had stepped out of his truck and laid eyes on her, the connection had sparked. He had tried to ignore it, but now it was screaming at him.

This woman. She was one of the eight.

As if this whole situation wasn’t already crazy enough. And Chrysti was yet another gorgeous looking woman. She had an athletic and vibrant appearance with long, dark brown hair, which was styled in sleek waves. Her facial features were striking, with well-defined cheekbones, full lips, and expressive dark brown eyes that gave her a naturally beautiful and engaging look. Physically, she had a fit and toned physique, giving the impression that fitness and wellness were a core part of her life. Her skin had a warm, sun-kissed complexion.

Jalen cleared his throat, shaking off the realization of who she was to him for now. First things first, they had to handle the accident.

“We should call the cops,” he said. “Get a report on file.”

Chrysti nodded, still watching him with sharp, analyzing eyes. She pulled out her phone and started dialing.

While she talked to dispatch, Jalen stepped aside and grabbed his own phone, texting his insurance agent and letting them know the situation. Once Chrysti finished giving the police their location, they both moved their vehicles to the side of the road so they wouldn’t block traffic. Now, all there was left to do was wait.

Jalen glanced over at Chrysti, who was leaning against her Jeep, arms crossed, looking annoyed but noticeably calmer than before.

“You okay?” he asked, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“Yeah. Just pissed.”

“Understandable.”

She sighed, shifting her weight. “I had plans today, you know. And now I’m stuck here because of you.”

Jalen smirked slightly. “Could be worse. You could be in a ditch somewhere.”

Chrysti rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the small twitch of amusement at the corner of her lips.

“Since we’re stuck here, we might as well get properly introduced,” Jalen offered. “I know your name from your license, but still, Chrystiane Oliveira, right?”

“Just call me Chrysti,” she said nodding, “and you’re Jalen Moss. What do you do, Jalen?”

“Contracting. I own my own business.”

Her eyebrows lifted slightly, as if impressed. “You build houses or something?”

“More like renovations, remodels, high-end projects.”

Chrysti hummed, nodding. “Okay. That’s respectable.”

Jalen grinned. “Appreciate the approval.”

She smirked. “Well, I gotta make sure you’re not just some reckless driver with nothing going for him.”

Jalen chuckled. “Nah, I’m good on that front.” He took a moment to really look at her, taking in the definition in her arms, the tone of her legs, the way her body was sculpted like she lived in the gym.

“ ... So, are you a fitness model or something?” he asked, genuinely curious.

Chrysti blinked, slightly caught off guard. “Why would you think that?”

Jalen gestured vaguely. “I mean ... look at you. You’re fit as hell. Like, ridiculously fit. It’s giving ‘I squat three plates and do it effortlessly’ energy.”

Chrysti laughed, and this time it was real.

“Damn. You’re not far off. I am into fitness. It’s kind of my thing.”

“Personal trainer?”

“Something like that,” she said, crossing her arms. “I’ve done fitness modeling, training, online coaching. It’s a big part of my life.”

Jalen nodded, filing that information away. It made sense. There was no way she looked like that without being serious as hell about her fitness.

“Okay, okay,” he said. “So that means you probably only date dudes who look like The Rock, right?”

Chrysti let out a snort. “You’re assuming I even date at all.”

Jalen tilted his head, catching something underneath her tone.

“That sounds like a story.”

Chrysti exhaled through her nose, shaking her head. “It’s a long one.”

Jalen shrugged. “We got time. Cops are never fast when you actually need them.”

She smirked at that but didn’t answer right away. Instead, she studied him, like she was trying to figure him out.

And Jalen let her.

He could tell. Something about him intrigued her. Maybe she didn’t know what it was yet, but he could feel it.

Chrysti simply says, “I have seen enough to know that men generally suck.”

Jalen smirked, leaning back against his truck. “Can’t even argue with you on that one.”

Chrysti raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting that response. “Oh? So, you admit it?”

“I mean, yeah,” Jalen said easily. “A lot of men do suck. Lying, cheating, abandoning their responsibilities ... I’ve seen it. Hell, I’ve had to clean up after dudes who didn’t handle theirs.”

Chrysti crossed her arms, her interest slightly piqued despite herself. “And what makes you different?”

Jalen chuckled, shaking his head. “Now, see, I wasn’t pitching myself just now. That wasn’t a ‘not all men’ argument. Just stating facts.”

Chrysti studied him for a second, clearly not used to this kind of response from a man. She’d expected defensiveness, excuses, maybe even sarcasm. Instead, Jalen was just ... real.

Before she could reply, they both heard the sound of sirens approaching.

“Finally,” she muttered, turning to see the cop car pulling up.

Jalen sighed, pushing off his truck. “Let’s get this over with.”

Twenty minutes later, the accident report was written up, insurance information was exchanged, and they were officially free to go.

Jalen walked back over to Chrysti, handing her a copy of his insurance details.

“So, what now?” she asked, shoving the papers into her purse.

“Now?” Jalen said, glancing at her Jeep, “I’d get that checked out as soon as you can. My truck barely took a scratch, but you might need some work done.”

Chrysti sighed. “Great. More money down the drain.”

Jalen hesitated for a moment, then said, “Listen ... if they try to charge you crazy for minor stuff, let me know. I know some people. Could save you a headache. And like I said before, I can help you with whatever cost your insurance company doesn’t cover.”

Chrysti blinked at him, caught off guard again.

“You offering to help me?” she asked suspiciously.

Jalen shrugged. “You don’t have to take me up on it. Just putting it out there.”

She squinted at him. “Why?”

Jalen chuckled. “Because I hit your car? And because I’m not a total ass?”

Chrysti looked at him for a long moment, as if trying to find the catch.

Finally, she sighed and gave him her phone. “Fine. Put your number in. I’ll text you if I need help.”

Jalen smirked, taking her phone and adding his contact. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t make me regret it.”

Jalen handed her the phone back and grinned. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Chrysti.”

And with that, they both got into their vehicles and drove off, but Jalen already knew...

This wasn’t the last time he’d be seeing her.

As Chrysti drove home, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter than usual, her mind raced.

Jalen Moss.

She had been fully prepared to write him off. Another smooth-talking guy, another letdown waiting to happen. But instead, he’d been ... different.

Not defensive. Not pushy. Not full of himself.

She had expected him to get annoyed when she called men trash, but instead, he agreed with her. That alone had thrown her off. No man ever did that. They either made excuses or got mad.

And then there was the way he looked at her, not just checking her out, but really looking. Like he was trying to figure her out.

That shouldn’t have made her heart race. But it did.

“Ugh!” she groaned, shaking her head. “Get a grip, Chrysti.”

She didn’t even know the guy.

And yet...

As she pulled into her apartment complex and parked, she realized that instead of being pissed off about the accident like she had been before, all she could think about was him.

His voice. His energy. His damn smirk.

She should just delete his number right now and move on with her life.

... But she didn’t. Instead, she saved it under Jalen – Contractor Guy and tossed her phone onto the couch.

She had a sinking feeling she’d be dialing that name sooner rather than later.

10 days later

Jalen gets a text from an unknown number.

“Hey, my deductible is higher than my repairs so I’m out $379. Are you going to put your money where your mouth is or what?”

Jalen has to think for a moment before realizing who it is. He smiles before responding. He responds to the text by sending a picture of himself with a twenty-dollar bill in his mouth.

Elsewhere, Chrysti stares at her phone, caught somewhere between amusement and irritation. Of course, this guy would respond with a joke. She should have expected it.

She debates how to respond. On one hand, she could just send him her Venmo and call it a day. On the other, this was the perfect excuse to see what this guy was really about.

Chrysti: “Cute. But I’m serious. If you’re not gonna help, just say so, Jalen.”

Jalen: “Relax, I got you. Want me to just send it, or do I get the honor of seeing you again?”

Chrysti rolls her eyes at the screen. Typical.

But instead of shutting him down, she finds herself hesitating. Why was she hesitating? She doesn’t trust men. She doesn’t need another man in her life. So why is she still thinking about him? Before she can talk herself out of it, she types back:

Chrysti: “Meet me at Rev Coffee in Smyrna today at 3. Bring cash.”

She doesn’t even wait for his response before locking her phone and tossing it on the couch. What the hell is she doing?

90 minutes later, Chrysti stands in front of her mirror, adjusting her outfit for the third time. “Why the hell am I doing this?” She thought.

It’s not a date. It’s just a transaction. She’s going to collect the money Jalen owes her, maybe sip a coffee, and leave.

So why did she take the time to do her makeup? Why did she change from her usual workout leggings and tank top into form-fitting jeans and a cropped sweater that showed just enough of her toned stomach? Why did she choose the nude-colored lip gloss that made her lips look plumper?

She groans and tosses her hairbrush onto the dresser. “This is stupid.” She said out loud.

And yet ... she doesn’t change.

With a sigh, she grabs her purse and heads out, mentally preparing herself for whatever the hell this was turning into.

Chrysti sits at the café, arms crossed, staring at the time on her phone. 3:10 PM. Jalen is late.

She tells herself she’s annoyed because she hates people who can’t be punctual. But deep down, there’s another reason she doesn’t want to admit..., she’s been way too eager to see him. And that pisses her off more than him being late.

Why does she even care? This is just a guy who owes her money.

Then, finally, she sees him. Jalen is walking toward her in a fitted henley that shows off his build, a confident stride in his step like he’s never rushed for anything in his life. He spots her, grins, and pulls out the exact cash she asked for, holding it up like he’s making an offering.

“Alright, alright, I’m here. My bad,” he says, sliding the money toward her on the table. “Hope I didn’t ruin your whole day.”

Chrysti snatches the cash, but she can’t stop her lips from curving into something dangerously close to a smirk.

“Cutting it close, Moss,” she says, trying to sound irritated. But even she knows that she’s full of shit.

“So, is this where you get up, leave and I never see you again, or can I order us some coffees?” Jalen asks, smirking.

Chrysti stares at him for a moment, rolling the cash between her fingers. She should leave. That would be the smart thing to do.

But instead, she leans back in her chair, tilting her head slightly. “Depends,” she says, crossing her arms. “You planning on being late for coffee too, or are you actually capable of being on time for once?”

Jalen chuckles, shaking his head. “Alright, I deserved that.” He flags down a passing barista. “But since I’m here now, how do you take yours?”

Chrysti narrows her eyes at him, pretending to think about it, even though she already knows she’s staying. “Vanilla latte. No sugar.”

Jalen nods, smirking. “Figures. You look like you drink vanilla lattes.”

“And you look like you drink straight black coffee just to prove a point,” she fires back.

Jalen grins, amused. “Only when I want to look intimidating.”

Chrysti watches as he goes to the counter to order, and against her better judgment, she knows she’s not leaving anytime soon.

When Jalen delivers the coffee, he delivers it in a mocking silver platter manner.

“Your latte madam.”

Chrysti raises an eyebrow, barely holding back a smirk. “Wow, what service. Do you always go this far to make up for rear-ending people?”

Jalen sits down across from her, placing his own cup on the table. “Only when they threaten to take my money and run. Gotta make sure I at least get a conversation out of the deal.”

Chrysti scoffs playfully, taking a sip of her latte. “Oh please. I could’ve just Venmo requested you and saved myself the trip.”

Jalen leans back in his chair, studying her. “Yeah, but you didn’t.”

Chrysti pauses mid-sip, her eyes meeting his over the rim of her cup. She won’t admit it, but he’s right. She could’ve avoided all this. But instead, she’s sitting across from him, in a cute outfit she definitely put too much effort into, having coffee with a guy she was supposed to forget about.

She sets her cup down, tilting her head. “Maybe I just wanted to make sure you actually paid up. For all I knew, you could’ve ghosted me.”

Jalen smirks. “I don’t ghost.”

Chrysti rolls her eyes but can’t hide the small, amused smile forming on her lips. “Lucky me then, I guess.”

Chrysti hates it. That stupid, cocky, infuriating smirk of his.

Because every time he does it, she feels herself slip just a little bit more.

She crosses her arms, narrowing her eyes at him. “You think you’re charming, don’t you?”

Jalen takes a slow sip of his coffee, still smirking. “I don’t think, I know.”

Chrysti groans, tilting her head back in exasperation. “God, you’re insufferable.”

Jalen chuckles. “And yet, here you are, drinking coffee with me instead of sending that Venmo request.”

Chrysti glares at him, but it’s half-hearted at best. Because he’s right again. And that only pisses her off more.

She leans forward, resting her elbows on the table. “So, tell me, Jalen. Do you always flirt with the women whose cars you hit, or am I just special?”

Jalen grins, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “I don’t hit that many cars, but when I do, I make sure it’s worth it.”

Chrysti’s lips twitch like she wants to smile but refuses to give him that satisfaction. Instead, she exhales sharply through her nose and shakes her head. “You’re ridiculous.”

Jalen raises his coffee cup in a mock toast. “And yet, you’re still here.”

Chrysti sighs dramatically. “Unfortunately.”

They both take a moment to sip their coffees. Chrysti then looks at him and decides to try to lighten things.

“So how many baby mamas you got, Jalen? Chrysti asks jokingly, sipping her latte.”

Jalen pauses. “Six”

Chrysti stops and stares. She had been completely unserious with her question. She laughs nervously. “Yeah, if that’s true then I better run.”

“It is true.” Jalen says.

Chrysti’s laughter dies in her throat. She stares at Jalen, searching his face for any sign that he’s messing with her. Any hint of that damn smirk that usually means he’s teasing. But there’s nothing. Just calm, unwavering honesty.

Chrysti leans back in her chair. “You’re fucking with me.”

Jalen exhales. “I wish I was.”

Chrysti blinks. Once. Twice. Then she leans back in her chair, exhaling sharply. “Okay, uh ... wow. Six? Six women are having your babies?”

Jalen rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah.”

Chrysti lets out a short, disbelieving laugh. “You’re fucking insane.”

Jalen shrugs. “I probably am.”

Chrysti shakes her head. She’s scrambling to process this. She expected Jalen to be a flirt, maybe even a player, but this? This was some next-level, reality-TV-show-level insanity.

“So ... what?” she says, still trying to wrap her mind around it. “You just go around knocking up every woman you meet?”

Jalen sighs. “It’s not like that. It’s complicated.”

Chrysti snorts. “No shit it’s complicated.”

She takes another sip of her latte, mostly to buy herself a moment to think. Every logical part of her brain is screaming at her to get up and leave. To run. She’s already had enough men betray her, lie to her, disappoint her.

And yet. Here she is. Still sitting across from Jalen Moss. Still listening and still ... curious.

She squints at him. “Are you at least in these kids’ lives, or are you one of those dudes who just throws money at his baby mamas and calls it a day?”

Jalen shakes his head. “They aren’t born yet, but I’m in all of their lives. I take care of the mothers. I make sure they feel supported. That’s why I told you instead of bullshitting you or letting you find out some other way.”

Chrysti tilts her head. His voice is steady. Sure. Like he’s not just saying what she wants to hear, but telling her what’s real. And that’s the part that scares her. Because she wants to believe him. And she doesn’t know if she can afford to.

Chrysti raises an eyebrow, gripping her latte a little tighter. “And none of them are born yet?”

Jalen shakes his head. “Nope. They’re all still on the way.”

Chrysti blinks. Then lets out a stunned laugh, shaking her head. “What the hell did I just walk into?”

Jalen exhales through his nose, giving a half-smirk. “I ask myself that question every day.”

Chrysti leans forward, resting her elbows on the table. “So let me get this straight ... you have six women, all pregnant with your kids, at the same time, and somehow, somehow, you’re still walking around with your head attached to your shoulders?”

Jalen shrugs. “Yeah, well, it’s been a delicate balancing act.”

She shakes her head. “No. No way. You expect me to believe that you got six women pregnant at the same time, and you’re just casually sitting here drinking coffee with me?”

Jalen shrugs. “It wasn’t exactly the plan.”

Chrysti just stares at him for a moment, then leans back with a sharp exhale. “Dude. This is insane.”

Jalen nods. “I know.”

She shakes her head again, taking another sip of her latte. “So what? Are you planning to just keep collecting baby mamas like Pokémon cards, or is six your lucky number?”

Jalen shakes his head. “I don’t collect anything. Every one of these women is special to me. And I’ll always be there for them.”

Chrysti lets out a stunned laugh. “Dude. That’s wild.”

Jalen takes a sip of his coffee. “Yeah. Tell me about it.”

Chrysti shakes her head, trying to process it all. “And none of them have tried to kill you yet?”

Jalen chuckles. “Not yet.”

Chrysti exhales sharply, rubbing her temples. “Jesus. What the hell did I just walk into?”

Jalen smirks. “A really good coffee date.”

Chrysti groans, shaking her head. “I should definitely be running in the opposite direction right now.”

Jalen tilts his head. “But you’re not.”

She glares at him. “Shut up.”

Jalen just smiles. “Okay.”

Chrysti sighs, staring at him. “I hate that you’re charming.”

Jalen grins. “You’ll get used to it.”

Chrysti narrows her eyes at him over her latte. “For the record, this isn’t a date,” she says firmly. “I’m just here to collect the cash you owed me.”

Jalen leans back in his chair, watching her with that damn smirk again. “If that were true, then you wouldn’t still be here.”

Chrysti opens her mouth to respond but then stops. Shit. He’s right.

She quickly recovers, rolling her eyes. “I’m just being polite.”

Jalen raises an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. Polite. Right.”

Chrysti glares at him but can’t stop the small twitch of her lips. “Don’t be smug.”

“Too late.”

She huffs. “This is exactly why men suck.”

Jalen chuckles. “And yet, here you are. Drinking coffee with one.”

Chrysti sighs dramatically. “Clearly, I have terrible judgment.”

Jalen lifts his cup in a toast. “To bad decisions.”

Chrysti clinks her cup against his, shaking her head. “This is not a date.”

“Sure,” Jalen says smoothly. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Chrysti leans back in her chair, arms crossed, studying Jalen as if she’s trying to figure out his angle. “How do six baby mamas just happen?” she asks skeptically. “Because that sounds like some serious bullshit.”

Jalen doesn’t flinch. Instead, he swirls his coffee, taking a slow sip before meeting her gaze. “I’ll tell you my story,” he says evenly, “and it’s a long one. But only if you tell me yours.”

Chrysti raises an eyebrow. “My what?”

“The story that explains why you feel the way you do about men,” Jalen clarifies, tilting his head slightly. “You’re not just skeptical, you’re damn near hostile. And that doesn’t just happen without a reason.”

Chrysti looks away for a brief second, lips pressing together.

Jalen smirks. “Do we have a deal?”

Chrysti exhales through her nose, then looks back at him. “Fine,” she says after a moment. “But I know you’re full of shit, and I’m looking forward to calling you out on it.”

Jalen grins. “Then you better listen really carefully.”

Jalen then proceeds to tell her everything. About Sydney, Kristen, Megan, Rachel, Karla, and Heidi. He goes through how he met, fell in love with, and impregnated each of them, and how they are doing today. It takes well over an hour to tell the full story.

Chrysti listens, her coffee long forgotten as Jalen unpacks the most absurdly insane yet undeniably compelling story she’s ever heard. He tells her about Sydney, the passionate night at the party, their casual but undeniable connection, and how she’s now carrying his child. He moves on to Kristen, how she was engaged to another man, how their work relationship turned into something deeper, and how she struggled with what being with him meant. Megan, the married woman in an abusive situation, whom he not only fell for but also helped escape from her toxic husband. Then Rachel, and how they met through basketball, how their chemistry exploded, and how she wrestled with guilt over betraying Trevor but couldn’t deny her love for Jalen. Karla, the powerhouse lawyer who was helping Megan fight back legally, and who somehow found herself in the middle of Jalen’s orbit. And finally, Heidi, the daughter of a conservative politician, whose entire worldview was shaken by Jalen, and who ultimately made the choice to be with him despite everything.

Chrysti doesn’t interrupt him. Not even once. The story is too ridiculous—too impossible to be real—but the way Jalen tells it, the way he owns up to everything, the way he speaks about these women with genuine love and respect ... it’s throwing her completely off balance.

Jalen also tries (the best that he can) to explain that while he loves them all, he is not in an exclusive relationship with any one of them. By the time he finishes, Chrysti sits back, shaking her head. “That is completely fucking nuts,” she finally says.

Jalen exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah..., it is.”

Chrysti stares at him, searching for cracks, some sign that he’s exaggerating or lying. But all she finds is a man who looks both exhausted and deeply committed at the same time.

“Jesus Christ,” she mutters, rubbing her temples. “That’s gotta be the craziest thing I’ve ever heard. And what’s worse?” She looks up at him, eyes narrowing. “I believe you.”

Jalen lets out a dry chuckle. “Told you.”

Chrysti exhales sharply and crosses her arms. “Okay,” she says. “Fine. I’ll hold up my end of the deal.” She leans forward, her voice lower now. “But fair warning, my story isn’t some wild fairytale. It’s a lesson. One that I learned the hard way. So, if you’re expecting some grand romance or crazy destiny shit ... you’re about to be disappointed.”