Amsen stared into her time block. In less than a quarter Tempore revolution, if she and Hallan would have followed their schedule, they would be getting ready for their official Union Ceremony.

Yes, if they stayed on task, she would have been dressing in her metallic blue dress that matched Hallan’s uniform and preparing to be taken to her male where in front of their family and friends they would say their words that would tell everyone they were together, pledged and bonded.

He would have kissed her, and though their public signs of affection were to remain modest and sweet, she would have found a way to slide her tongue over his, press her body against him, feel him thicken.

Later, after the speeches, dance and accolades they would return home where he would take her. They would join and join again, and start their lives.

She never wanted a life with anyone before, but now all she could see was Hallan.

In no world did she understand her feelings. Here she was forced into a partnership with a male who already had failed once. Everyone had betrayed her and yet there she was with a yearning that only that one male could quench.

The time block vibrated and without thinking she stood and paced the perimeter of her room straightening up her belongings. Now was the time to tidy up before the evening, a little habit she acquired with Hallan. They needed some time to put things in order, and even had a little game where if they finished their task early they added those moments to their joining time. With most of her items still at Hallan’s, she smoothed out her bedding and stood in the middle of her chamber, not knowing what to do with herself. What use did she have for those extra moments now? Somehow she would have to get her belongings back, and supposed she would when the time was right.

The block vibrated and lit up, signaling a new task, and she absentmindedly walked into the meal preparation area and began gathering ingredients.

“What are you doing?” Her mother entered the space. “I thought you would be creating art.”

Rather than answer, she glanced in the block and found the recipe she searched for. Since arriving home two Tempore revolutions before, she had barely spoken to her parents other than to remind them that now she would be ostracized, and she was glad. In the end she got what she wanted. Didn’t she?

Her mother stopped and put her hands on her hips. “Since when do you show up at the right time to make a meal?”

Amsen pressed her lips together and hugged the block to her chest. When she left Hallan’s she took one of the blocks he gave her. All the scheduling for the ceremony remained in the task list.

Her father joined them and pointed at the cube. “Since when do you even dare touch one of those?”

She glanced between her parents and the cube.

“I demand an explanation.” Her father crossed his arms.

“This is when we, I mean I eat.” Tears formed in her eyes. Hallan may be flexible on the schedule, but his appetite was firmly fixed on the time. Over the last few days she became accustomed to eating on his regimen and her stomach signaled the same.

“What did you do after you ate?” Her mother came over and put her arm around her.

“After our evening meal we would have some entertainment, have our sweet, and then prepare for…” She cleared her throat. By the time they got to their sweet treat he was hard and she was wet and ready. Sometimes they teased each other until the cube signaled their joining time, and sometimes they ignored it all together and gave in. Both instances were satisfying.

“You started to plan your life.” Her mother’s voice softened.

She froze and repeated her words in her mind. Both were satisfying—the schedule and breaking it. Somehow between the cleanup, the meal preparation, and everything else, she managed to get her life in order and as thrilling as it was to buck the system, it was as comforting to know what would happen next.

“My ceremony is tonight,” she said.

“What are you talking about?” Her father shook his head. “Those arrangements are being cancelled. I am sure he was right on time taking care of it.”

At her father’s statement, her heart seized. Yes, they were on a time constraint to take care of cancelling the ceremony, but what if he didn’t complete his task? What if? “You know, he didn’t go through with his last pledging because it wasn’t right, and maybe I needed to be forced into a pledging because it was right.”

“We shouldn’t have forced you.” At last her father said the words.

“We wanted you to be happy.” Her mother came over and pulled her in for a hug.

“You wanted me to conform.” Her voice broke. “But I found something with him.”

Both her parents nodded.

“He forgave me even though I was late, and I lied about my profession.” She put her hand over her eyes. Could they throw convention away one more time and get over their hurdles? All she knew was if he didn’t cancel, didn’t follow the tasks, they were meant to be. In turn she had to stay on schedule and that meant showing up to their ceremony. “I have to go there and see.” If she arrived to no one, nothing, she would know it was over.

Without allowing her mind to wander, she stayed on task, rushed back to her bedchamber, and changed into the formal outfit meant for this one important event.

Once she was ready, her parents took on their traditional roles and with a silent reverence escorted her to the Colonium. The impressive event hall stood square, tall and proud in the center of the main city and was designed for all different gatherings on Tempore.

For the entire ride she squirmed in her vehicle, anticipation getting the best of her. Finally, the suspendcraft lowered in front of the entrance to one of the Grand Rooms.

Everything was empty.

Her heart fell and her throat dried out.

“Amsen,” her mother whispered.

At the end of it all Hallan couldn’t let go. “I need to go inside, I’ll be right back.” If she couldn’t have a memory of their pledging ceremony, she would at least have a memory of saying goodbye to the one male who mattered.

She slid the door open. No valets met her, no sparkling lights, nothing that she and Hallan planned had materialized, but still she forced herself inside where their ceremony was to take place.

Rather than the blue glow that would have played off her outfit perfectly, the dark, cold and empty room mirrored her heart.

“It wasn’t our time.” Her voice echoed off the walls and she turned to leave.

“Maybe our time is now.” His voice took over the space and pink light softly lit in the corner, outlining her male.

She pressed her hand to her chest. “Hallan?”

“Life is about time.” He inched toward her. “Our society is obsessed with it.”

All she could do was nod.

“If I could go back in time, I would do things differently, starting with finding you and courting you and pledging myself to you.” At last he stood only inches away from her. “I don’t care about the time, I don’t care how long it takes, or what tasks I have to do. I only know that I want to give myself to you. I want you to remember that the moment you became mine.”

“I am yours.” She gasped the words. “No matter how. I am yours.”

“I want the passion, I want it all.” He kneeled down in front of her and held out one of the favors she made for them. “This is us. I understand now.”

She took the offering and grabbed his hand. “I do as well, it was our time.”

He stood and took her into his arms.

The room lit up, bathing them in a gorgeous blue and a panel lifted and revealing their gathered friends who broke into applause.

He bent her back and kissed her, and she took the opportunity to slip her tongue in his mouth. He let out a groan and pressed his body to hers. “Your timing is impeccable.”