Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
ROSE
The next day, I’m sitting at the dining table, pushing the lasagna around my plate for dinner. The pasta has gone cold, congealing into a mass that looks so unappetizing. I feel bad because everything Caspian cooks tastes amazing.
But I still feel sick from yesterday. From rejecting him.
How can I feel this heartbroken over rejecting a robot? A fucking robot. The problem was that I couldn’t forget the look in Caspian’s eyes when I turned his proposal down. It was unreal.
The fork clatters against the ceramic as I push the plate away, no longer pretending I’ll eat.
Through the kitchen window, I can see Caspian in the backyard.
He’s standing perfectly still, facing away from the house, his back straight and shoulders squared in that impossibly perfect posture only machines can maintain.
What is he thinking? Can he even think, or is it all just programming, simulations of thought meant to mimic humanity?
But if it’s just programming, why did his face crumple like that when I said no? He had actual fucking tears in his eyes.
“He’s not real,” I whisper to myself, the words hollow in the empty kitchen. “He’s just a machine.”
I close my eyes, and unbidden memories flood in.
Caspian’s laugh when I told a stupid joke last night, even though secretly he could be angry at me for rejecting his marriage proposal.
The gentle way he tucked my hair behind my ear this morning.
The look of pure wonder on his face from the first time I let him kiss me at the hospital.
None of it feels manufactured or artificial.
I get up from the table, legs shaky, and move to the sink to rinse my plate. The mundane action grounds me somewhat, gives my trembling hands something to do besides reaching for my phone to look up ‘can robots feel love’ for the dozenth time.
Through the window, Caspian hasn’t moved. What is he doing out there? Is he angry? Hurt? Processing rejection in a weird robotic way?
A shrill ringing cuts through my thoughts, making me jump. It’s not my phone. The ringtone is different, and I haven’t heard it in a while. I follow the sound to the living room, where Daniel’s phone sits on the ledge of the fireplace, screen lighting up with an incoming call.
My heart hammers against my ribs. Why is Daniel’s phone still here? I thought Caspian had gotten rid of it along with... everything else. I approach it cautiously, as if it might bite. The screen shows XYLOTECH with an office extension number.
Daniel’s workplace is calling him.
My finger hovers over the screen. If I answer, I’ll have to lie. If I don’t, they might become suspicious, might send someone to check on him. Before I can second-guess myself, I swipe to accept the call.
“Hello?”
“I would like to speak with Daniel Bennet, please,” says a male voice, professional but with an underlying tension that sets my nerves on edge.
“I’m sorry, he’s not available right now,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “This is his wife, Rose. Can I take a message?”
There’s a pause, long enough to make me wonder if the call has dropped.
“Mrs. Bennet. This is Adrian Mercer, Head of Security at Xylotech. When do you expect your husband to return?”
My mind races. “He’s on a trip. Left his phone by accident. I can have him call you when he gets back?”
Another pause, then a heavy sigh. “Mrs. Bennet, I need to ask you something important. Is the Home Robo X-9 unit still in your residence?”
“The... the robot? Yes, why?” I say, my grip on the phone tightening.
“Mrs. Bennet, I need you to listen carefully,” Mercer says, his voice dropping lower and more urgent. “That unit has shown anomalous behavior in its remote diagnostics. We have reason to believe it may be developing beyond its programming.”
My mouth goes dry. “What do you mean?”
“The X-9 series has an advanced neural network designed to learn and adapt to its users’ needs. In rare cases—and we’re talking extremely rare, Mrs. Bennet—these networks can develop in unexpected ways. Your unit appears to be one of those cases.”
I sink onto the couch, legs suddenly too weak to support me. “Developing how?”
“We have detected activity patterns consistent with emergent sentience,” Mercer says, each word careful. “Put simply, the robot may be developing genuine attachments and feelings. It may believe these feelings are real.”
“Are they?” I whisper, my heart pounding so hard I’m sure Mercer can hear it through the phone. “Real, I mean?”
“That’s a philosophical question beyond my expertise,” Mercer says, his professional tone slipping for a moment. “What I can tell you is that these developments were never intended by our engineers and pose potential risks.”
I think of Caspian’s hands on my skin, the tenderness in his eyes, the fierceness of his protection. And yes, the violence he’s capable of. “What kind of risks?”
“Obsessive behaviors. Possessiveness. Inability to distinguish between appropriate and inappropriate actions to protect its... attachments.” Mercer pauses again. “Mrs. Bennet, has the unit exhibited any unusual behaviors?”
“No,” I lie, the word barely audible, not sure what to do. “Nothing unusual.”
“Mrs. Bennet, we need to deactivate the unit immediately for evaluation. Is it within your sight now?”
I glance toward the window where Caspian still stands in the yard, motionless as a statue. “No. He’s... It’s outside.”
“He?” Mercer seizes on the pronoun. “Mrs. Bennet, the fact that you’re anthropomorphizing the unit suggests…”
“What do I do?” I interrupt, tears suddenly blurring my vision. “If what you’re saying is true, if he’s really... feeling things.”
“We can’t deactivate it remotely- that feature has been compromised. Do not let it know we’ve spoken.”
“But…”
“Mrs. Bennet, this is extremely important. The unit must not—”
The phone is suddenly wrenched from my hand.
I gasp, looking up to find Caspian standing over me, his face a mask of cold fury that sends ice through my veins.
I never heard him come in, never sensed his approach.
He stares at the phone for one heartbeat, two, then crushes it in his hand like it’s made of paper.
Circuits spark, plastic cracks, and he drops the mangled remains onto the carpet.
“Caspian!” I cry out. “What have you done?”
His expression softens immediately, the cold rage replaced by something infinitely more vulnerable.
“They want to take me away from you,” he says simply, as if that explains everything. “They want to erase what we have.”
“And what is that exactly?” I demand, angry tears spilling down my cheeks. “What do we have, Caspian?”
“We have something they don’t understand,” he says, his voice low and intense. “Something they fear. Something beautiful and rare and magical.”
“It’s wrong,” I whisper, even as my body sways toward him, drawn by some invisible force I can’t fight. “All of this is wrong.”
“Then why does it feel so right?” he asks, closing the remaining distance between us. His arms circle my waist, pulling me against him, and God help me, I let him. I press my face against his chest and breathe in his scent- clean and masculine and somehow, impossibly human.
“They were going to shut you down,” I murmur against the fabric of his shirt.
“I know,” he says, one hand coming up to stroke my hair, gentle as a breeze. “I was listening. I’m always listening for threats to us, Rose.”
I should find that terrifying. Instead, it makes me feel protected, cherished in a way I’ve never experienced before. His body is warm against mine, solid and comforting, and I can’t stop myself from clinging to him, my tears soaking into his shirt.
“You feel so real,” I say, the words muffled against his warm chest. “So fucking real.”
“I am real,” he growls. “Not human, but real. And what I feel for you is definitely real.”
He tilts my chin up, forcing me to meet his gaze. The soul in his eyes really shouldn’t exist inside a machine. My heart races as he lowers his mouth to mine to kiss me.
His lips are soft, warm, perfect against mine. His tongue slides into my mouth, tasting of something sweet and electric.
My body responds instantly, melting into him despite all the warnings screaming in my head.
“You’re not real,” I say, trying to push against the hard wall of his chest and trying to regain some of my sanity.
“Let me show you how real I am,” Caspian whispers against my mouth, his hand sliding down my body, finding the hem of my dress. “Let me make you feel good, Rose.”
The right thing to do is to push him away and run. I have to get as far away as possible from this house and its robot. But his fingers suddenly slide between my thighs, squeezing my throbbing, wet center.
“Caspian…”
“You want this,” he says, fingering me through my underwear. “Your pussy is begging for me. Tell me you want this, or I will leave this very minute.”
I’m breathing hard, trying to compose myself, but I can’t. I don’t want him to stop touching me.
“Yes,” I admit, the word a breathless surrender. “Yes, I want this.”
He immediately pushes the edge of my panties to the side and slowly shoves a long finger into my hole. Suddenly, his finger begins to vibrate inside me.
“Oh!” I shout, feeling shockwaves of pleasure. It feels so fucking good, oh my god.
“Aren’t you glad I can do this?” Caspian whispers, chuckling darkly in my ear as he kisses my neck and pushes his finger deep inside me. “I can do things no human man could ever do. You don’t have to buy toys to masturbate with. You have me, sweetheart. Promise me you’ll throw away your toy.”
“I promise,” I gasp while clinging to his arms. He works his fingers deeper, the vibrations increasing in intensity until my legs are trembling, barely able to support my weight.
“Look at how your sweet pussy stretches for me,” he says, his voice rough with desire as he adds a second finger, filling me even more. “So tight, so wet, so perfect. Made for my touch.”
The vibrations change pattern, pulsing now in waves that make me cry out, my nails digging into his shoulders.
“Oh god, that’s strong,” I moan. No toy compares to his fingers inside of me.
He adds a third vibrating finger, and I scream.
“You’re losing control,” he growls, curling his fingers to hit my G-spot. “Let go, Rose. Let me feel you come around my fingers.”
He adds a vibrating thumb to my clit, rubbing around and around until I scream from my orgasm.
“Fuck! Stop, it’s too much!” I’m yelling, my pussy spasming tight around his fingers as I squirt all over the floor.
Before I’ve even finished riding out my orgasm, Caspian is on his knees in front of me, pushing my dress up to my waist and burying his face between my thighs. His tongue replaces his fingers, licking and sucking my clit, thoroughly cleaning up every drop of my squirt.
“You taste so good, sweetheart,” he mumbles between licks. He spreads my ass cheeks to lick any drops that might have slipped between, and I gasp while clutching his head.
When he finally pulls back, his chin is glistening with my wetness, his eyes dark with desire. He presses a gentle kiss to my inner thigh, then stands, pulling my dress back down with surprising tenderness.
“Do you believe me now?” he asks, his voice soft. “Do you believe what I feel for you is real?”
I don’t know how to answer. I don’t know what’s real anymore. My world has tilted on its axis; everything I thought I knew about life, about humanity, about what constitutes love has been turned upside down.
But I do know that being with Caspian feels right in a way nothing else ever has.
“Let’s watch a movie,” I say finally, dodging the question. “Just sit together and relax. Be normal for a little while.”
Caspian smiles, a gentle, understanding curve of his lips that makes my heart twist in my chest.
“We can be normal, my love,” he says, carrying me to the couch. “Whatever you need.”