TimeLess (Time Tells, #2) (ON-GOING)

Chapter Twelve

My eyes open. Darkness greets me. I sit up on the bed, my hair falls like a curtain over my shoulders, down my chest. I turn, my feet slipping past the edges of my nightgown to touch the floor.

I stand, checking the time displayed on the panel in the wall as I do so.

**2:30 AM. **

I haven't seen Kri since this morning. Since after we entered that room. He'd stared straight at a blank wall for fifty seconds before before he turned and walked right out.

I'd followed him silently. We'd reached our room. I sat on the bed while he walked into the bathroom. Seven minutes later he'd walked out, showered, dressed and with an expressionless mask on.

His gaze skated over mine and his fingers had brushed my jaw just before he had left the room once more. That was this morning.

Some of Kri's cousins brought me lunch, then dinner and ate with me, chatting away spending a few hours with me that I almost don't notice how long it had been.

But I never forgot.

Somewhere in the midst of my worry and longing, I'd fallen asleep. But even then, I hadn't forgotten. I'd woken up and he still wasn't here. I walk into the bathroom, the door remains open and I just stop, staring at the mirror before me. The lights were dim, suiting the darkness my eyes had gotten used to while asleep.

I brace my hands on the counter and lean into it, my eyes closing.

Kri. Where are you?

I could have gone in search of him, but he had left because he needed time. Sure, did it suck that the time he needed was away from me? Yes. But did that change how I would be? No.

I would respect this as much as I would respect his need for anything els—

Awareness jolted up my spine and I suck in a sharp breath. I turn around slowly and look up as my husband comes to stand before me. I release a slow breath, my gaze pouring over his features. The backs of my eyes prickle and I swallow. My hands clutch the counter at my back because if I didn't do that, I wouldn't be able to stop myself fro—

Kri leans forward, his nose touching mine in affection. My fingers spasm and immediately I rope my arms around his neck and crush myself to him.

"Alanna." He whispers against my skin.

My breath rattles against me and I single shudder spirals up my spine. I squeeze my eyes closed, burying my face in his neck. I draw in the smell of aftershave and pine. It's only then that every rigid, worried part of me relaxed.

"I want to ask you something."

I almost still again, worried at the hollow but feverish tone to his words. I lean back slowly, my fingers trailing down his shoulders, arms and dropping to my sides.

"Okay." I whisper.

"If you were to give me an ultimatum," the look in his eyes..."What would it be?"

An.. ultimatum?

"Why are you asking this?" And the tears leak.

He swipes them away, shaking his head.

"For me." He says, shifting so he was suddenly closer, "I need an ultimatum for me."

Something shuddered through me, relief and worry. I wet my lips.

"I don't know—"

He shakes his head once more, "I'm banking in my blank cheque." He says.

I jolt, remembering that not too long ago—but somehow almost a lifetime ago—I had promised him a blank cheque. An undeniable request for anything.