Prologue

Without hesitation, question, or the slightest inkling of doubt, Krystal Hitake had always subscribed to the most conventional and widely accepted (albeit unrealistic) idea of love that Disney, rom-coms, and sitcoms had to offer: a sweep-you-off-your-feet, solve-all-your-problems-with-a-kiss, you'll-know-it-when-you-feel-it kind of love. The kind that leads to getting kissed in the rain; dramatic, public declarations, shouted from the rooftops; lush weddings that melt into marital bliss. Nevermind that not a single couple in her life exemplified any of it, nor that she'd never been in an actual relationship (because despite what she wanted to believe, having sex with the same person for one whole month did not constitute a legitimate partnership). Against all odds and common sense, she believed in love, plain and simple. "Believed," as in past tense. Because on January 2, 2018, the paradigm shifted. That was the day that her parents sat her down, and after hemming and hawing for several minutes, finally admitted that they were getting a divorce. Twenty-four years of marriage over and done with, just like that. January 2, 2018 is when Krystal's story really began.