TimeBound (Time Tells #1) (COMPLETED)

Chapter Seventeen

It was Saturday evening. I was at my mirror, running a brush through my hair, my stomach was fluttering with a million butterflies that swirled in chaotic patterns all the way to my heart. To say I was excited was the single most understated statement of the century. I have been waiting for tonight.

I had so much energy bottled up since Kri told me about Saturday night two nights ago, I finished my book, sent it to my editor and began the plot line for a different series. An all new series.

I stop everything I'm doing, because...the night was here. I take a deep breath, puffing out my cheeks that were hurting from how wide my smile was and has been for the whole of today. Kri has been working long days because he had taken time off to...to take care of me.

My stomach turns on itself again and I close my eyes, smiling again.

"I can't stop smiling!" I gasp and begin to laugh.

"Would you like me to search for medication to help relax your facial muscles?" Houston asks me.

"Houston! This is the bathroom!" I whisper-gasp and tighten my robe around me.

"You live inside me, Mrs. Kri. If anything, you are trespassing."

My brows raise. "Um. I'm sorry?" I say, "And also, we need to work on your phrasing."

"Mrs. Kri, inside me, you live. You are the trespasser, if anything." Houston says.

I stare at my own reflection in the mirror, "I didn't mean..." then I shake my head dismissing the thought of correcting her further. Lord knows where that would lead me.

"No, I don't want any medication thank you." I say finally.

A pause.

"My jokes are wasted in this house." Houston says.

She sounds so sad that I fake a laugh and say, "Oh! No, I get it. Haha."

"I'm an un-understood intelligent software living with tyrants who lack a sense of humour."

I prop my hands on my hips, "Excuse me, when have I bossed you around?"

"You won't let me control your phone. You won't let me control your food. And you didn't let me study your stools. I can't sing nursery rhymes or make coffee in my special edition all-beverage-capable brew maker."
Houston sounded supremely sullen. If she had a body, I would have hugged her. I make an oops face and open my mouth to—

"No one asks me about the weather. You sleep on sofas, poking at your laptop and you were so so late on your submission date, but you asked me to stop reminding you about that." Houston keeps at it, "And if I do something he doesn't like, he tells you and you ask me to stop. And when I do something you don't like, you tell him and he asks me to stop."

"Both of which I do for your good. Nursery rhymes do elevate his mood, I have statistics to prove them and me being in your phone will safeguard—"

A sudden silence has me surprised and a little worried. I cup my mouth with my hands, "Houston...are you ...crying?"

"I don't leak irrational fluids. I make logical arguments. But my duty is above all else and I am capable of putting my well-studied harassment case aside to tell you your phone is ringing."

I frown, "Who's calling?" I ask.

"Your husband, Mrs. Kri."

My first emotion is surprise, elation. But something else creeps in. Unpleasant and curling a dreaded heat against my skin. I walk slowly out of the bathroom and sit on the bed, staring at the screen of the phone on the bed.