It's two days after that evening. I'm unable to sit still in my very spot. The pit of my stomach is squeezing, my heart pounds suddenly for no reason. The emotions that accompany these physical reactions were absent, but my body was going stir crazy.
All I knew was..something was wrong. Off. As if an untuned chord had been stuck inside me and it was vibrating a note that was off key. It became louder as time went and I grabbed my phone to dial a call through to my husband. As always he didn't pick up my call.
An urgency mounted inside me and my ears started to ring. I sent a call through to Bal and requested a ride to Kri's workplace. Bal had the car ready in minutes and I all but jumped into it. I wrung my hands together, waiting impatiently to get to Kri. What had happened? Why was my heart beating an uneven rhythm inside me?
"Did you hear anything from Kri?" I asked Bal while watching his profile from where he sat in the driver's seat, carefully, for any changes in his expression.
There were none, other than confusion. Barely.
"No, ma'am." He says. I don't even correct him and ask him to call me Alanna. I'm too worried. My nerves are frayed by the time I get there. My hands are on the lever as I see the office come into view. I pull it open and am out of the car even before Bal has stopped the vehicle. I hail the elevator and step in, shutting it and pressing the button that leads to Kri's level. I would've preferred to foot it with all the energy inside me, but he was too high up for me to make it there fast. I was shifting and tapping my foot and all over the place by the time the damn elevator stopped. As soon as it did, I crossed the threshold, unbothered that there were people waiting to get in as I excused my way through the throng.
I stopped only when I saw Orre. She stopped mid step when she saw me. Her usually coiffed hair was in a little of a disarray today like she'd run her hands through it a few times. She looked restless like she'd been pacing and didn't know what to do with all the energy. I went straight to her.
"Is he ok?" Before she could answer my eyes caught on the door of his office, "Is he in there?"
In my peripheral I saw her nod and the next thing I knew I was at his door and my hand was pressing on the handle to get it to open. The handle wouldn't move all the way and I realized the door was locked on the inside. I dropped my head against the door, praying that he was okay. I thumped the door once.
"Kri, it's me ... open the door... please." I could feel something behind the door. As if a storm was brewing, the wood vibrating with it. I don't even know if Kri heard me.
I called out again, "I'm worried. Let me in."
The door clicks and I waste no time opening the door and stepping in. The door slams shut behind me and locks. I don't even wince, because I can literally see nothing. Despite it being a bright afternoon, the whole room was plunged in shadows as if it were in the middle of the night and the room had no windows, and I knew for a fact that Kri's wall was made of glass that overlooked the city. I couldn't even see my hand in front of me. It was as if the glass wall didn't even exist.
"Kri.." I whisper, my eyes frantically trying to catch some light in the darkness. But I can't see anything. "I need to see you," I say, my hands flexing with the need to touch him, see that he's okay ... to breathe.
Shadows a few feet before me part and reveal my husband. He stands leaning against the edge of his table. His arms are crossed over his chest and his feet are stretched out before him. He's looking away in a direction where I can neither see his eyes nor his expression. He isn't wearing his jacket. His white shirt is a little wrinkled and so are his dark grey pants. Staggering relief pounds through me and I almost sway at the head rush it causes.
He was okay.
Physically at least. I corrected. Emotionally.. I think he was a wreck. I stepped towards him, carefully, before I start to speed up because I want to touch him, drag his eyes to mine, make him speak to me and burrow in his strength and know he's okay. I don't worry about whether he would accept my touch without our usual code as I wrap two arms around his neck and drag myself up to press my face into his neck.
I say nothing for a few seconds, uncaring that his arms were digging into my ribcage since he hadn't lowered them from where he'd crossed them. I let out a slow breath and his familiar smell overtook my senses and goosebumps lifted across my skin. My face finally had time to heat from the running, the worrying and my still pounding heart, now that I was in one place.
I drop back down and catch his jaw in my hands. I turn his face to me and he lets me. His eyes are the darkest I've ever seen them, almost night blue. He's in a bad place.. I've never seen him like this. I suck in a breath.
"What happened?" I ask, letting my hands drop to press against chest with my wrist resting against his folded arms. His head tilts a little as he stares at me for a long time. Suddenly he drops his arms and my hands drop as well because they'd lost their support. He's towering over me in a second, having straightened from his earlier pose. His dark eyes seem to flick across my eyes, my cheeks, my throat, the buttons on my white blouse and finally my long flowing skirt.
I lift my hands to face again, tilting his head back so that his eyes could meet mine.
"Baby," I say, "What happened?"
His eyes catch on mine and stay as he seems to contemplate something. My other hand goes to his arm and I shake him a bit.
"Kri," I say sharply, "What's going on?"
Something in my voice seems to awaken him a bit and as his eyes drop to where he lifts his hand to take the bottom edge of my blouse in between his fingers. He rubs the material, his thumb softly tracing back and forth on it and I envy my dress for a second. But I can shake myself out of my thoughts he speaks, doing it for me.
"You're dressed up." He murmurs. His voice is low, sending a tremor through me that isn't unpleasant. Not unpleasant at all.
His eyes slam back up to mine and I almost rock back at the intensity in them. Angry. He's so bloody pissed.
"For whom?" He asks, glaring darkly.
My hand moves on its own accord and slaps his face. Though his face doesn't even move a fraction of an inch, surprise flicks across his features and his eyes clear a bit. His hand drops from my dress and he blinks, leaning back a little.
"I guess it's none of my business," he finally says, watching me carefully.
I roll my eyes, "Of course it's your damn business." I snap, "I slapped you to shake the silly out of you because who the hell else would I dress for? Willy Wonka?"
My sass seems to amuse him, because a wry smile lifts his lips, "You're funny," He says and I realize that there's a slight slur to his voice.
My brows raise. "Are you drunk?" I ask incredulously.
His head tilts again and he looks down at my dress once more. "I like you in skirts." He says finally.
He was definitely lost in his head. I lift his face up and repeat my question. His eyes clear and he answers. "Yade don't get drunk." He finally answers.
"Uh huh." I say. I grab his hand and yank so that he gets the idea that we're leaving. Now.
He seems to get it as I turn and head towards the door because he follows me allowing me to lead him out. There's a curious look in his eyes that tugs on my heart because it's so open and childish in nature. I feel around for the handle of the door, undo the lock and pull it open.
"Where are we going?" He asks as he lets me drag him towards the elevator. I press the level that takes us to the reception and keep my eyes on the screen that tells us which level we are at.
I finally decide to answer Kri because he was waiting very patiently, also because he had the most comical expression on his face like he didn't know what was happening but he wanted to be part of it anyway.
"I'm taking you home." I say and leave it at that. Just as he opens his mouth to say something the elevator doors slide open and a dozen of Yade eyes widen as they rush to step out of their boss's way as he's been ushered (dragged) by his maniacal wife. At least that's probably how it looked.
Bal, God bless the man, is waiting right where I left him and I open the door and look expectantly at my husband. He looks down at the hand I have around his wrist and back at me. I let go and he gets in, not before I notice the small smile creasing his lips. I ignore it, because I want to focus on it and the lord knows I won't be able to function after that.
I get in as well, shutting the door behind me and leaning forward to let Bal know we're going home. Though he isn't smiling he looks quite amused too. I ignore him as well and stare stonily out of the window.
In my periphery I can see Kri staring at me, amusement dancing in his eyes, though his expression was blank.
He tugs on the sleeve of my dress, "You mad?" He asks and when I turn to look at him he looks like a child who knows they're too adorable to be reprimanded.
I glare at him, "Of course I'm mad. You're processing your emotions like a five year old Kri." I say. Because he looked too damn pleased, I turned away before the damn man got me to smile as well. The rest of the ride went by with my stony silence. When our apartment came, I stepped out of the car and waited for my husband to step out as well.
He raised his brows at me as I shut the door. "You going to drag me home now?"
I narrowed my eyes at him because his eyes were laughing at me as he teased me. I turned on my heel and stalked to the elevator and heard him follow. Then we were home I could feel that his mood had plummeted back to unsafe territory. I steeled myself and faced him, making my voice gentler.
"Shower, change and come out. We need to talk." I tell him. One of his brows raise at me at the command, but he heads into his house pushing past the swivel door. I slip my sandals off and wait for my husband at the sofa. I tuck my feet beneath me and sit sideways, my forearm resting on the back of the sofa and supporting my head, where I was leaning it on my palm.
When he returns, the swivel door closing behind him, he was towel drying his hair. My breath catches because he was wearing... track pants and a forest green shirt. I had never seen him in anything other than shirts, pants and suits.
I eagerly trace my gaze over his form, dressed utterly casual perhaps for the first time in my presence. There were dark spots on his shirt where water had dripped from his hair. His eyes meet mine as soon as he's out and I pat the spot beside me. I ignore all of my natural instincts to want to ... well kiss him. The damn man was too good looking for his own good and I couldn't turn off my body or my heart's reaction to him. But now was not the time.
He came slowly and sat beside me. I tug the towel from his hand and I go up on my knees because he was taller than me even while sitting and wrapped the short towel around the back of his head. I gently rubbed it over his head, a part of my attention on his face and his mood, while the rest of it was in my task. I took my time in my task, basking in my indirect touchs. I had never done this out outside of an...intimate context and I was going to take my time to enjoy it. I tunnelled strands of his dark hair gently between the towel, before pressing the towel deeper into his scalp and kneading. At that, dark blue eyes that had been watching me a little warily, a lot hotly, closed and a breath left him.
I smiled at that and dropped the towel aside, and sunk my fingers into his scalp. His eyes snapped open to my face, lightening and darkening at the same time. His hair was only damp now, the strands brushing his forehead as I pressed the pads of my fingers into the back of his head and kneaded them in round circular motions. He watched my face for a long time, before closing his eyes and giving into the massage. I relaxed a lot more as well, drawing closer to him, our breaths fanning along one another's faces as I stared at the shadows his lashes cast on his cheeks and the way the light caresses his dark face at an angle that makes him look beautiful in an unattainable way.
When my fingers started to throb, I gentled my kneads into touches. I trailed my fingers though the strands of his hair, watching them catch the light and turn blue before they fell away and joined the thick black mass on his head. The third time I did it, his eyes opened lazily and met mine.
To my pleasure, they were back to their icy blue. I slowly let my hands trail down the back of his head, the sides of his neck, his chest and finally my lap. My gaze travelled with them. I leaned my temple against the back of the sofa and let my eyes trail back up and meet Kri's gaze.
He was already watching me, waiting.
"What happened?" I asked, even as I awaited and almost expected rejection.
His expression closed off and I braced myself for the slap down I expected him to deliver.
"Corporate espionage." He says, his eyes remaining on mine and watching as my own widen with shock. He continues and I listen to the lack of emotion in his voice and know that it has caused him pain.
"I was double crossed. By someone I never never thought would betray me. We built the company together. I thought we were family." His jaw tightens and I regret making him talk about it but I know it's important. It's better he gets it out.
"What did he do?" I ask. Kri meets my eyes again and seems to search for something. I don't know what he finds but it prompts him to answer.
"Remember the security software we were developing?" He asks me, watching my face carefully.
I nod, remembering having balked at the money that the company was paying through their nose for an earlier than possible delivery.
"He sold the blueprint of the security system we developed for them, in the black market. The company we had a contract to deliver is threatening to sue." He says.
My heart breaks and I want to hold him and protect him and keep all his problems at bay. Kri's company was known for its accountability. They hold to their promises and deliver exceptional service. My husband and his people take their work very very seriously. Not once has there been any allegations against Kri Industries .
I want to extinguish everything that hurts him and let only that which brings him happiness burn brightly. But the world didn't work that way...
At the look in his eyes, I couldn't help but ask.
"Can I please hold you?" I whisper, my voice sounding ragged even to my own ears. His eyes widen slightly before he schools his expression. He says nothing for a long time..before finally nodding slowly.
My desperate need to seek a connection with him that was not just sensual but intimate burned in my actions.
I tangle my fingers in the shirt he's wearing and tug us towards one another. I place a hard kiss to his cheek ... his eyebrow .. before hauling him closer and wrapping my arms around his neck. We aren't sitting properly enough for the hug to be comfortable, but I couldn't care less as I melt into his heat and squeeze my eyes closed as a lone tear slips down my cheek. I turn my face into hair, pressing a soft kiss to the shell of his ear.
"I'm sorry." I whisper, my voice shaking a little.
My husband doesn't hug me back but he lets me hold him. I don't notice when, but it's later I realize that he too has moved in the embrace, his own face buried into my hair.
"Are you crying?" He asks sometime later.
I hide my face further into him, my forehead sliding along his skin to rest against his neck, the pulse of his heart beating against my skin. My tears most likely would have brushed against his skin, but I lie anyway, "No." I say, my voice muffled against his neck. I drag a deep breath in and my head spins from the scent of his skin and I can't help but press my lips softly against his neck. When he doesn't protest or even move, I can't help going a step further. I catch his skin between my lips and draw them softly into my mouth. As soon as I do that, my husband moves so fast I catch my breath. Not because he moved, but because of how he's moved us. I'm not sitting with my legs on either side of him, straddling him. My teary eyed gaze meet his as I try to blink away the evidence of their existence.
His eyes miss nothing. The trails of tears on my face to where they'd slid into my shirt, or the way I was biting my lip to keep them from trembling.
Before he could ask anything, I curl my hands around his shoulders, dragging myself closer. The colour in his eyes flare as he watches me, tracking my every movement.
"What're you going to do?" I ask him, referring to the issue presently at hand at his work.
He waits for sometime, looking at me before he answers. "Start again from scratch." He says.
I wince and let my hands trail to the sides of his throat, dipping the fingers into the tendrils that curl up at the bottom of his nape. "Did I drag you away from that?" I ask.
I shiver when his own hands that had barely been touching me, now slide up my legs and rest on my waist, tugging me closer. My breath stutters out of me and I meet his eyes, trying to dislodge the moisture in my own.
"We'll only be starting tomorrow." He says, "Team morale is down."
My breathing is mostly in gasps now as he brings us closer. Before I can blink, I'm pressed against him, our faces so close that we could knock noses. There was something different about tonight. Perhaps it was because neither of us had used the code word. We hadn't planned this nor had we warned the other of what we wanted.
"We have to make a security system software that far outweighs the one that was released." He continues without inflection as his fingers dip inside my blouse and rest against my skin. A barely-there touch. But it was the first time he had touched my skin. Something other than my face or arms. He had never...allowed for this before.
It had always been like a game before this. A game like those played by the waves of the sea. A wave and a retreat, another and a retreat.
But this time...
Everything felt different. Without either of us saying Did you miss me? The significance of this moment just happening spoke of...trust. Of something beyond the mind's need. It made every moment seem all the more precious, all the more. As if the need we had burned so hotly, our minds had clocked out. This wasn't the game of the mind anymore.
We were showing souls.
I lift my hands into his hair as I lean boldly into him, his heat drawing me in like a lodestone. I let my lips come within brushing distance to his cheeks and press my eyes closed. But to my surprise, the hands he has on me tug me forward and my lips press against his cheek. I let my breath leave me as I catch his beloved face in my hands and kiss his cheek once more, his brow, the space between his eyebrows, his eyes, the tip of his nose... I lift his face and run my lips along his jaw.
"I wish I could help. If I could I would make this all go away."
He tugs me back and I reluctantly go, letting my lashes flutter open as I meet his gaze. They're hot ice, burning into mine.
"Why?" He asks.
I lick my lips, but his eyes remain on mine, undeterred. I keep my lips sealed, unwilling to part with the last piece of me that I had hidden from him. As if sensing my resistance, he leans towards me, dragging his nose along the line of my neck. I shudder and close my eyes knowing that he may be distracting me into admitting the truth. But I couldn't find the menace in it. I couldn't find anything cruel in it. I didn't feel manipulated. I only felt...
"Why, Alanna?" He asks again as he leans back. I let my head tilt back down to meet his eyes. My own eyes were hooded, I could tell. They matched the look in his.
"Why cry? Why care?" He pushes further, one hand climbing up my back to curl around the nape of my neck.
"How can I not?" I whisper, my eyes struggling to hold his because of the intensity in them. Had he not heard my confession of my dreams? Of having no other pleasure greater than seeing him at the end of the aisle? Had he truly not heard what I was saying?
"Because I'm your husband?" He asks, tilting his head.
His question makes me pause. Had he truly not heard anything I had said?
"No. Not because you're husband. Even if you weren't my husband, your pain hurts me. I want to protect you, I want to take away anything that could potentially harm you." Now that the dam was open, I couldn't stop, I told him what I felt. Something deeper. Something I had hidden so deep inside my psyche I hadn't allow myself to feel it, to realise my understanding of his behaviour.
Something in his actions, his words and his behaviour had told me I'd done something that had caused him to doubt me—in this life or another. To not place his trust in me. To be careful instead of vulnerable around me. His mind may not know what it is that caused this distance between us...but his soul did. Every cell in him that the soul had imprinted on when it joined to this body knew. Something was wrong. Something had happened. But I couldn't imagine what.
The weight of my epiphany hits me harder than a train wreck. The truth had always been lingering in the back of my heart. The realisation something I had hid from. There was no hiding it now. It burned into my conscience and heart and bones.
"Sometimes I want to hate myself." I whisper, the confession a shock to my own ears.
Kri's fingers tighten where they hold me.
"Because ironically I feel I'm the one that causes you pain. I don't know how. But I just know I do." I whisper softly looking down. Something had happened. Something wrong. There was truly no other way the most loving man I knew, would split into another man who was colder and harder and protected himself like he needed it to survive.
"Have you succeeded?" He asks me and I whip my eyes up to look at him.
"Wh-what?" I ask, disoriented.
"Have you succeeded in hating yourself?" He asks and I stare at him discombobulated. He leans forward when I don't answer, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispers.
"If you have, you need to teach me how, because I've been failing to do exactly that since the second I saw you."
I lean back, shocked. If a confession is what I was searching for, this one comes as close to one as possible. He meets my eyes, a look of desolation in them.
For a few beats our silence is heavy. I want to ask him a million questions but none of them come to my lips. My heart breaks that he's been trying to hate me and unbidden my tears are now flowing without a stop.
"Why do you want to hate me?" I whisper. "How can you when all I feel—"
"What?" He asks, leaning forward, brushing his lips with mine. Resting them there. His eyes remain focused on my face. I let mine close and I can't stop the sob that breaks through from fight between my heart and my mind. One tells me to take the jump and the other tells me to take a step back. Scared, always scared.
Fuck it.
I fall.
"How can you want to hate me when all I can do is love you?" I cry, my sobs now unstoppable.
Not even a second later, his lips are on mine. My sobs cease immediately as my heart thumps and I lock my lips with his and we kiss. It's a kiss of desperation. Of longing. Of love. We tilt our heads, deepening our connection and I give up on any semblance of control and catch the thick strands of his hair in my fingers. I pull, I twist and I fight with my fingers and my lips. He takes it all in as if I'm telling him again that I love him. He takes and he takes until I have nothing left to give.
Then ... then he gives. He worships me with his caresses. It felt like his explorations were his prayer, my gasps and sounds of encouragement his blessing.
I don't know when we moved, but I felt short fast wind, before I feel of the soft mattress beneath me. I'm wrenched away from the sensation when I see my husband pull away to rip his shirt over his head and toss it away before leaning back into me and starting where we'd left. A lifetime ago.
Tears continued to pour freely as memories clashed into one another in familiarity, contentment and heart bursting love. My soul recognises his. Always will.
I don't know when my blouse had been thrown away. I don't know who did it. I didn't care.
All I cared about was him.
In between, Kri would also have time to lean back just enough to bring his hands to my face and wipe my tears away. And every time he would I wouldn't allow the distance, pulling him back into the embrace. His lips would curve, his fingers continuing to catch the tears that were still spilling.
I wasn't scared of what was happening or where it was leading to. I wasn't scared Kri would misinterpret my tears. I was overwhelmed. The human body wasn't equipped to handle the strength of the soul's emotions. I didn't care for my tears. But Kri seemed to, because he let me savour each touch, each breath, each moment, by slowing down, so that there weren't too many things that would send me spiralling out again.
Our hearts lead as our hands explored and our lips followed. Our eyes never left one another's until we couldn't keep them open anymore. Our voices merged into one and when I could finally speak I told him I loved him. Over and over I said it until he caught the words with his lips.
Kri has always been a part of me, but tonight, he broke me into pieces and burrowed further inside. So much so that if I ever cut myself, I would bleed his name.