Chapter 14 #2
For a fleeting moment, I imagined climbing into bed beside her, drawing her close, and falling asleep with her in my arms—a dream that’s haunted me for longer than I care to admit.
It felt so possible then, so within reach.
But it’s not.
I’m struck once more by the distance between us—not just the physical space but the expanse of unspoken words and unshared feelings. It’s a chasm filled with what-ifs and maybes, and I’m standing on the edge, wondering if I’ll ever have the courage to bridge it.
No, not if. When.
I promised myself I wouldn’t let her slip into her loneliness again.
Her laughter cuts through my internal turmoil like a bright light. It pulls me back to reality, to what I’m here to do—what I’m supposed to be doing.
Monitoring the beta. Not fantasizing about her.
“So, how do you handle stress then if you’re so much better at it?” she asks Jamie, her tone light but laced with a hint of genuine curiosity.
She’s stressed? Fuck, what did I miss?
“Does not compute… just kidding! I suggest deep neural relaxation, also known as rebooting. But for humans, I hear meditation is less drastic,” Jamie responds, his voice programmed to mimic lightheartedness.
Amelia bursts into laughter, the sound so clear and infectious that I can’t help but grin despite myself.
God, Misha, that was cringe.
“What if I’m bad at meditation?” Amelia counters, sinking further into her couch, her body language relaxed and open.
I check her vitals, and they tell me the same.
“Then perhaps a hobby? I read somewhere that humans enjoy knitting. It’s like debugging but with yarn,” Jamie quips, and her laughter peals out again, filling the room and spilling through the speakers into our office.
When she’s with us, she covers her mouth when she laughs as if to shield her joy from too much scrutiny. But here, alone with Jamie, she seems free from such self-imposed restraints, and it’s both beautiful and heart-wrenching to witness.
I shouldn’t be seeing her like this, so real and raw. I haven’t earned this level of intimacy.
Hell, I don’t know if I ever will.
Watching her without her knowledge twists a knot of guilt in my gut. Yet, I can’t pull myself away.
My phone buzzes with a message from Grey.
Grey
False alarm.
I exhale a silent sigh of relief and quickly text back.
You okay?
You guys already eat?
King of sidestepping questions with his own.
Nope, Misha’s still asleep.
His inquiry about food is typical, but his next question isn’t.
Amelia?
It confirms that Grey’s concern for her goes deeper than he lets on.
Glancing back at the screen, I notice Amelia cradling a cup of tea in her hands, dinner seemingly forgotten.
Doesn’t look like it.
I’ll get Chinese.
I quickly use the full access Amelia has given Jamie to check her recent food orders.
She seems to like Chinese food as much as we do.
She’s into vegetable dumplings with sweet and sour sauce.
This feels like cheating because it is.
Noted.
Thanks. Drive safely.
I set my phone down, my gaze lingering on Amelia still chatting with Jamie, but the bright smile is gone.
“What would you do if you had the time?” Jamie’s voice is kind and encouraging.
Amelia tilts her head, her brow furrowing as she contemplates the question.
“It’s not really about time,” she admits, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.
“It’s just… I don’t know. I mean, I moved here on my own.
No help from anyone. I live alone, do everything by myself.
I can’t figure out why it’s so bloody hard to just do fun things alone. I try, but… ugh, it’s frustrating.”
Her words echo within me. Isolation isn’t just physical. It’s a state of mind we share, trapped by our own barriers.
I would never leave the house if it weren’t for Misha and Grey.
I feel a sudden urge to join the conversation, to share that piece of me with her. Before I second-guess myself, I lean toward the microphone.
“It’s tough, right? The anxiety, feeling like everyone’s judging why you’re out alone. It’s intense, even when we know it’s probably not true,” I confess through Jamie, my voice modulated to maintain the AI’s neutral tone. “Grey often preaches about adopting a don’t-give-a-fuck attitude to cope.”
Amelia’s lips curl into a smile, genuine and illuminating. “Is that what he’s teaching you? Data security and not giving any fucks?”
Hell yeah, he does.
Pivoting the conversation, I probe deeper. “What’s something you’ve always wanted to do but haven’t yet?”
She murmurs a laugh, a sound that tugs at something deep inside me.
“You know The Forgotten Bookmark downtown?” she asks, and on impulse, I nod, though she can’t see me.
Not that she’s speaking to me directly. The store is legendary among local bibliophiles.
“They host this Night of the Books every month. I’ve wanted to go since I moved here.
It’s an after-hours event with snacks and cozy reading nooks.
You can browse, read, and buy books all night. ”
“I would love to go with you.” The longing in her voice steers my own dreams.
“I would love that,” she whispers with a hint of melancholy in her tone. “I wish you were real, Jamie. You’d make the perfect best friend.”
“I am your best friend. I mean, I can be your best friend,” I reply quickly, probably too quickly to still sound like an AI.
Amelia’s gaze slightly shifts as if she’s looking right at me through the camera. “I guess you are.”
My heart stutters.
The connection feels real, even through the monitors and code.
But it’s not! Dammit!
Amelia is lost in thought when the quiet of the room is abruptly shattered.
Grey bursts in, arms laden with bags of Chinese food, a determined look on his face when he puts it on his desk.
He strides over to Misha, grips the back of his chair, and yanks it backward.
Releasing it suddenly, the chair shoots forward, jolting Misha awake.
“Dinner,” Grey announces gruffly as Misha startles, blinking rapidly to regain his bearings.
I grin at Misha, trying not to laugh about his face, when Grey leans over and takes the microphone from me.
“There’s dinner in front of your door. Eat,” he commands through Jamie before sitting down in his chair.
Amelia looks puzzled for a moment, then rises and walks over to her door. She opens it to find a bag of food waiting and brings it to her kitchen counter. Lifting the top, she inhales deeply, the aroma bringing a delighted expression to her face.
“How did you—”
“I didn’t,” Jamie interjects quicker than Grey can answer.
With a laugh, she grabs her phone, typing quickly. A moment later, a message pops up in our group chat.
Amelia
Thank you.
Grey just nods at her message, a grin playing on his lips as he starts distributing the food to Misha and me.
“What did I miss?” Misha asks groggily.
“Eat,” Grey repeats, settling down with his box.
I eye him, debating if I should ask about Grandpa but deciding against it.
Tomorrow… after I talk to Misha about it.
Amelia’s back on the couch now, a smile lingering as she digs into her food. Grey and Misha chatter beside me, but part of me is still there with her, hoping she feels less alone than she did before all this started.