My husband spends another hour with me at my parents'. I'm watching him with a barely there smile on his face, shaking my head with astonishment at him whenever I catch his eyes.

He gives me a secretive smile, like he knows even if I've caught him I wouldn't punish him.

I sigh. He wasn't wrong.

When it's late, Kri 'drops me off' to my room. He lays the bag I had brought to the side of my bed and stands with his fists on his hips.

He's glaring almost darkly at the floor, brows furrowed. I wait, patiently.

He looks at me, "Come here." He says.

I raise a brow, "Why don't you come here?" I ask.

His eyes narrow as shadows wrap around my waist and lift me clear off the floor. I only gasp in surprise, but am otherwise unharmed, the shadows almost affectionate in their hold. I'm brought back to my own feet right before him, my hands braced on his arms for support.

"Kri." I huff, when the shadows slide away with a parting caress.

He just leans his head against mine, letting out a breath.

"Say the word," he says, "I'll take you back. Be it now or seven hours from now."

I close my eyes too. "This isn't about whether I want to come home or not. There's never a question about that. This is about you."

He leans back, a soft look in his eyes.

"You called it home." He smiles sweetly at me then.

I chuckle, rolling my eyes only a little. Then I make shooing motions.

"It's time, Kri." I murmur.

His smile falls. He catches my arm and draws me closer. He seems to want to say something, but changes his mind. He drops his hand and lets out a breath.

"I'll see myself out." He says finally.

I nod. That would be for the best...I couldn't.. I don't think I could watch him leave me behind. It was hard enough already.

"Bye Alanna." He murmurs.

"Bye Kri." I whisper.

——
—
-

He calls that night.

Then the next morning.

I don't pick up either calls. My fingers curled into my palms and my eyes squeezed close. Mercifully he only calls once each time. God knows I wouldn't be able to resist otherwise.

I could turn my phone off, but I didn't possess that sort of control. Instead I ensure it's always charged, always on and always around me.

He calls again during lunch. My parents were blessedly in the living space arguing about something or the other they saw on a cooking show and I was in the kitchen, my phone on the counter beside me.

I quieten the ringer, staring at the screen. My heart squeezing and my fingers clenching.

He'd never called me so many times before.

I swallow, but nothing pushes past the knot in my throat.

The call cuts and a message pops up.

Eat well, Alanna.

I let out a breath, dropping my head and closing my eyes. This shouldn't be this hard. I hadn't slept a wink last night.

Not. A. Single. Wink.

All I did was stare at the ceiling. And the notification on my phone that indicated I'd missed a call.

I was drained. The mental effort it took to keep my self from reaching over to the phone and picking it up or calling him just to hear his voice...

It was exhausting.

My mind was a swirling whirlpool of all thoughts Kri.

It was like a madness that had no cure. All day every day.

Kri. Kri. Kri. Kri. Kri. Kri. Kri. Kri.

I shake my head.

But despite my efforts, late into the evening, I can barely keep my eyes open. But the second I lay down, I can't sleep. Frustration crackles like electricity inside my veins.

What was this madness?

At the back of my lids I see his face. He's smiling at me. Then he's looking at me with hard icy blue eyes.

My phone rings.

I press my eyes closed and a single tear leaks. I'm tired and exhausted and I missed him. It's as if not seeing him at the end of the day made my day unworthy of existing. I suddenly hated myself for leaving.

I had to use every ounce of my rationale to remind myself why I did it.

The inside of my skin itched, the back of my throat is heavy, my eyes and head pound and my heart is ...

How was this possible?

Kri. Kri. Kri. Kri. Kri. Kri. Kri.

I had lived without his presence most of my life. But suddenly, it was as if I couldn't anymore. I turn on my back, staring up at the ceiling.

This was pure agony. Poured like liquid lava over my skin and into my veins.

But I promised myself that I would bring him out of this. That we would walk past this hell hand in hand and with one another when we reach the other side. And if five days of distance helped, then five days of distance is what we would do.

My phone rings again.

I can almost hear his voice in my head.

Alanna. My name sighed out in exasperation and resignation. His voice was so clear in my head, my heart sped up and I looked to see if he were here.

I drop my head back on my bed.

"Pearls don't lie on the seashore, Mrs. Kri. If you want one, you must dive for it." Houston chirps from my phone.

The words filter through without meaning before they start to slowly form together inside my head. I smile a small smile.

"That's a very sweet thing to say, Houston. Thank you."

"It's a Chinese proverb." She sounds excited. "I've always wanted to use that."

I laugh softly. The smile fades away.

"What's he doing?" I whisper.

Why was I asking?

"Would you truly like to know the answer Mrs. Kri?" Houston asks, showing more insight than I had given her credit for.

My brows raise. "Perhaps... not."

"All things are difficult before they are easy." Houston says.

I laugh, "Alright. That's enough proverbs for the day."

"Would you like to hear a proverb each day?" She asks, her 'happy' voice leaking through my speakers.

I drop an arm over my eyes. "Can I say no?"

"Of course you may, Mrs. Kri. But if you must know, a man grows most tired while standing still." She says primly.

Laughter, deep inside me. "Are you going to thread your proverbs into normal conversation now?"

"I'm unsure what you are talking about." She feigns confusion and I shake my head at her antics.

Silence.

"Your mood levels are below the healthy mark, Mrs. Kri. I am meant to warn Mr. Kri when this happens."

"This is a situation removed from the normal. Please leave him uninformed."

"My program has been written in such a way that I inform him of some things and that cannot be disrupted. I apologise."

I wait as I imagine her informing him of emotional state. I almost expect a call from him immediately, but my phone remains suspiciously quiet. I turn to give it a glare.

Great, now I was angry it wasn't ringing.

I flop on my back and take a decision to pull myself out of a slump. I was doing something good. I was going to do it right. I sit up and close my eyes, beginning to draw deep breaths in and holding it before breathing out through my mouth.

When I open my eyes, however, the image I had of Kri when I'd closed them, remain imprinted in my vision.

I just stare unseeingly into the strangely distant, strangely intimate eyes of my husband in my mind.

We were like dancers. Dancing on our own sides but simmering with tension. Struggling to meet but striving to stay away. Our dance was beautiful, sure. But it was incomplete. We weren't lost to our form, we were caught in our minds.

Only when our dance became a duet...where partners possess equal importance and one strengthens the other and vice versa...would we be truly dancing. Truly married.

——
—
-

It's the middle of the third day. My friends are over. Pearl and Greg were bright eyed and bushy tailed, ready to drag me out to a day at the beach.

I'm reluctant and at the same time eager. I need a distraction. I had fallen asleep late into the night from sheer exhaustion, but I had woken early.

Hardly restful.

But the beach visit, does me good. My friends dunk me in salt water and drag out my mood and mind into the light. I'm laughing and splashing them back and for a few blissful moments, my thoughts of Kri are happy.

But not soon after, while we're lying in the sand, the warmth of the sun bathing over us, a feeling so deep slams into my ribs. My stomach clenches at the near painful missing.

I wish he were here.

"So. You won't see us unless we ambush you at your parents'?"

I open my eyes and stare into the worried and hurt eyes of my friends. I sit up and smile, a little tiredly.

"No, of course not. I'm sorry I made you feel that way but—"

A sudden tingle of awareness and I whip around, my palm sinking into the warm sand behind me as I scour around for—

My eyes catch the glint of the back of a head with hair so black it's blue as it ducks into a car. The car shines in the light as it drives away. My heart pounds inside me and for the first time in three days, my lungs fill with air.

"What?" Pearl asks, looking where I was, "There better not be another bunch of goons trying to steal you from us."

I swallow, my heart returning to its slower pace as I turn to face them. I shake my head.

"Nothing. It's fine." I say.

Pearl frowns, her hair glinting under the sunlight, casting a halo around her.

"Bitch, nothing is fine. What is going on with you?" She asks.

I look at Greg's worried expression and Pearl's annoyance that hides her own anxiety.

"Lots of good things." I think with a smile, remembering the room of portraits my husband has painted of me before he'd met me.

Greg's brows raise, "Um. I'm not sure I want you to go into detail—"

"Screw that. Tell me more." Pearl cuts in, leaning closer.

I laugh at her, slamming a hand over her mouth when she starts to make smoochy sounds. Greg looks positively harassed and Pearl and I burst out laughing.

It's late evening when we reach home. As soon as we arrive, my heart bursts into a race as I recognise the car that stands outside my house.

What...what was he...?

The engine was on and the car was running. Pearl and Greg toss me glance—though Pearl's is more...suggestive—before they enter my parents' grinning like fools.

I stand right where I am, staring at the car with wide eyes. My throat had dried out. The door to the driver's opens and my husband steps out.

My skin flushes, seeing him in white shirt and black pants. No tie and his top button undone. Sleeves folded. He just looks at me from where he stands for a moment, taking in my features.

Then he's walking toward me.

Each stride of his is like a punch to my stomach. My breath stutters and catches.

"You're not supp—"

"If I have to think about what I want, I also have to talk to you." He cuts in.

"W-why?"

His eyes are still tracking over my face.

"Because I like talking to you. It helps me make decisions."

I'm utterly unable to see past him. My lips have frozen. But he can see my hesitation.

He leans closer, "If we do this, we have to do it together."

"Kri..." I breathe out.

"I need to talk to you."

His voice grated out a tone that rang in resonance to the pain inside me. I don't control my feet as I walk towards his car and as he opens the door for me, I get in.

My husband is beside me in his seat seconds, revving the car into drive.

I turned my head to look at him. He was the picture of masculine beauty, with one hand on the wheel and the other on his thigh, his long fingers spread, relaxed.

For sometime, all we do is remain quiet as he drives down free roads, my hair blowing in the wind.

It's only when movement catches my eyes that I turn and see that he was holding out his free hand for me to take, palm up and fingers spread.

My eyes widen in shock. His remained steadily on mine, despite which the car did waver an inch from its course. A breath caught in my throat as I entwined my hand in his and brought it to my lap, pressing it close to my body.

His own fingers held mine in a grasp that matched mine. Strong, like we never wanted to let go.

My stomach fluttered and my heart squeezed. He looked back at the road, needing only one hand as he swerved expertly between the two cars that were there on the otherwise empty road.

He doesn't say anything for a few heartbeats. Until—

"I've never heard you hum before."

I looked down at our fingers, our skin contrasting beautifully. I had a small smile lifting my lips.

"Yeah, I didn't realise I was doing it." I admitted. Kri was quiet, looking out through the windshield while deep in thought.

"You seemed happy today," he commented.

I smile a little, curious that he thought my humming was in direct relation to my day and not his presence at this moment.

But it...had been a good day. Spending time with my friends. The water was perfect, the air warm and...Kri had been there. He had come to see me.

"I was." I say.

His eyes flicked to me really fast and I stilled. I'd said something that has bothered him.

"What happened?" I asked.

He was quiet for so long I wondered if he had heard my question.

"I've only ever seen you cry, Alanna." He admitted, softly.

My eyes widened and I took a deep breath. That can't be true. I couldn't have only cried around him. I thought back.

He squeezed my hand and I blinked and looked back at him, realising I'd looked down while I thought. His eyes were on me, sober. A dull blue.

"You've never laughed like that around me, Alanna." He says again and his voice has so much self loathing in it, that my heart breaks.

"Even..." his jaw hardened and his eyes flicked to meet mine and stayed there.

"That night, when we were... together, you cried."

Even the smallest pieces of my heart splintered and tears stung my eyes at his statement.

"Stop the car." I said.

He immediately turned the car to the edge of the road and slid it into parking mode. He turned to face me, his whole expression bleak.

"Baby, no." I said, lifting my free hand to his face to caress his cheek. "That was the best night of my life. I'm very happ—"

He shook his head fiercely, "Don't say that, Alanna. You're not happy. If you were you'd have answered your mother's question when she'd asked you and you would be as radiant as you were today, everyday."

With that he slipped out of the car, slamming the door and walking a few feet away, his hands fisted by his sides. I stared down at my empty hands that felt bereft without his... even though I'd only held his hand for a few minutes. I smiled a small smile...Everyday I found out a little bit more about how much I meant to him. I opened the door and got out, walking to where he stood. I placed a hand on his shoulder and pulled gently. He let me turn him around, meeting my eyes. They were cold, but I knew they weren't directed at me.
I smiled up at him and leaned closer to him and whispered in his ear.

"I love you too, baby."

When I leaned back he was glowering darkly at me. A laugh bubbled out of me and I giggled and caught my fingers in his shirt, pulling him closer.

"You make me really happy, Kri. I promise." I told him. He continued to look at me like a petulant child and I pressed a kiss to his jaw.

"Every morning I wake up and thank God for you. Everyday I wake up with a smile." I tell him.

I press another kiss to his cheek and lift myself on my tiptoes to kiss him near his eye. I slid back down and opened my eyes and still when I saw the look in his.

"What?" I asked.

"I want to try." He said.

"Try what, baby?" I ask as my heart pounds, hope a sweet flavour on my tongue.

He looks at me for a long time.

"To be like we were." He said finally.

My breath left me from between my lips. Love bloomed within me and I kept wondering how this man kept making me fall for him more than I already had.

"You mean that?" I ask.

He nods his head, his eyes boring into mine with an intensity that is almost too much to keep contact with. But I see the way he holds himself. And there's still a distance to it.

It's a stark reminder.

"Why won't you just tell me what I did, Kri?" I whisper, "Please let me help you."

Silence is my only response.

"I'm sorry. For whatever it is, I'm sorry." I say, my voice barely above a whisper. "I'll say it everyday.. I have. But I don't know how to get you to trust me."

He steps back and I know I've lost him. I stare at him in dismay.

"You still need time." I say.

"It's still hard." His voice is low as he watches me carefully as he says this.

His epiphany hadn't change anything yet. He still needed to feel what he had realised. To put into action his thoughts. Because when I went back, I wouldn't have him pulling away.
He still had to accept that he wanted to move on. All that anger and hatred that was brewing inside him had to be released and we both know what that meant.

Perhaps that's what put the crazy look in his eyes. The madness I recognised so well. A twin to mine.

I swallow.

I had to stay away longer. Until he was ready to put this behind him.

I lower my gaze, trying to hide my disappointment. It would be silly to expect years of anger to disappear in a few days.

"I wish things were different." He says and I hear regret in his voice.

My gaze flicks up and my heart beats a little harder at his tone. Hurt pools inside me.

And I realise he's the one disappointed.

In me.

God, what had I done?

And why don't I remember?

When he drops me off, he's quiet. I know that his realisation is born from the large part of him that wants me to be happy. I don't miss the irony that though he wishes to hurt me, he can't see me hurting. And that was propelling him to change.

My impatience is a need inside me that I can just about contain. Somehow, when he bids me goodbye I can't look at him.

I wish things were different.

If there's one thing I can't handle, it's his disappointment. Anger, hate.. they were nothing. But disappointment... it meant I had fallen in his eyes.

He wishes I had done things different so we didn't stand where we were now.

I almost dread tonight.