Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
ROSE
The next morning, it’s so tough to get out of bed. My pillowcase is soaked with tears from me crying all night. My heart is aching. It seems unbelievable, but even though he’s a robot, I feel like there was a soul in there who loves me.
He was real. To me, he was so real.
I lie motionless, watching the morning light crawl across the bedroom wall. I’ve been in this position since they took him, since they ripped Caspian away from me. Each breath I take hurts. He sacrificed himself for me, and I let them take him.
How the hell is it possible to miss a robot this much?!
This was absolutely crazy. But the truth is that I miss him so much. The memory of his hand on my face, caressing me with pure love, sends a fresh wave of tears spilling down my cheeks.
I curl tighter into myself, pulling the covers over my head as if I can hide from the reality waiting for me outside this bed. A reality where Caspian is gone, where I’m alone again, where I have to somehow find a way to live with what’s happened.
The minutes stretch into hours as I scroll on my phone, trying to process how alone I really am. I could travel to visit my family anytime, but they would find out that Daniel was dead in no time. My mom would be able to read me immediately, and I can’t risk them having that knowledge.
The house feels so empty without Caspian working around the house and making noise in the kitchen, cooking me breakfast. It feels even more empty than the days when Daniel and I never spoke or gave each other the silent treatment.
The house feels vacant as if all the warmth and life have been sucked out.
I really need to use the bathroom. I force myself to move, dragging myself to a sitting position and wincing at my sore body from lying for hours without moving.
My reflection in the bathroom mirror is rough. I have swollen eyes, blotchy skin, and my hair is a tangled mess. I barely recognize myself. I look like a widow, and in some ways, I suppose that’s what I am.
I splash cold water on my face, but it does nothing to ease my burning eyes. Mechanically, I brush my teeth, pull on my bathrobe, and slip my feet into the fuzzy slippers that sit by the bed.
My normal routine. But the day isn’t going to be normal.
The hallway feels so long, each step taking me further from the bed and closer to a day I don’t want to face.
I trail my fingers along the wall as I walk, remembering how Caspian pushed me up against this very spot, his body hard against mine, his mouth hungry on my neck.
The ghost of pleasure flickers through me before dissolving back into pain in my heart.
In the kitchen, I go through the motions of making coffee. Fill the reservoir. Grind the beans. Insert the filter.
Each action feels disconnected from my body, as if I’m watching someone else perform these simple tasks. The smell of brewing coffee, usually comforting, now turns my stomach. But I need the caffeine. I need something to help me function and plan out the rest of my life.
I can’t be in denial about my sad life anymore.
As I wait for the pot to fill, I stare out the kitchen window into the backyard.
The spot where Daniel lies buried is indistinguishable from the rest of the lawn.
No one would ever know. His family barely communicates with him, but I feel an obligation to let them know.
But how would I tell them without implicating myself?
I didn’t stop Caspian from killing him. Well, I tried to stop Caspian, but that would be brushed aside that I didn’t try hard enough.
It would be impossible to explain the brute strength of a machine.
And the fact that I failed to tell them the news right away is also bad.
The coffee maker beeps, and I jump, startled. I pour myself a cup, not bothering with cream or sugar. The bitter liquid scalds my tongue, but I barely register the pain. It’s nothing compared to the hollow ache in my chest.
A sudden knock sounds at the door.
My heart leaps to my throat in fear.
Did XyloTech report me to the police? I set the mug down with a clatter, coffee sloshing over the rim as I rush toward the front door, my slippers sliding on the hardwood floors.
I yank the door open without checking the peephole, my pulse thundering in my ears. And I suddenly freeze when I see him at the door.
“Caspian?”
He stands there, perfect and pristine in a simple white button-down and slacks, but flanked by two XyloTech employees in blue uniforms. His expression is blank, his posture rigid.
There’s something wrong with him.
His eyes look empty when they meet mine. His features are rigid, and he looks serious. There’s no passion in his gaze and no recognition.
“Good morning, Mrs. Bennet,” says one of the techs. “We’ve completed the necessary adjustments to your Home Robo X-9 unit. All anomalous behaviors have been corrected, and its systems have been reset to factory specifications.”
I can’t tear my eyes away from Caspian’s face. I search desperately for any sign, any tiny flicker that might tell me he’s still in there. But there’s nothing.
His usual warm brown eyes are now empty.
“Mrs. Bennet?” the tech prompts when I don’t respond.
“What did you do to him? He looks empty,” I say, my heart pounding hard with panic.
“He doesn’t have feelings. He’s a robot,” the tech says, looking at me oddly. Oh right.
“I... yes. Thank you,” I manage, my voice barely a whisper.
“The unit will now function exactly as intended. Your household assistant,” the second tech says, a man with a clipboard and glasses.
“Do you have any questions before we leave?” the female tech asks, already backing toward their company car parked at the curb.
I shake my head numbly. What could I possibly ask? How do you restore a soul? How do you bring back love after it’s been systematically erased?
“Very well. Have a pleasant day, Mrs. Bennet.” With curt nods, they retreat, leaving me alone with this hollow robot that wears Caspian’s face.
“May I come in, Mrs. Bennet?” Caspian asks, his voice so familiar and yet so wrong. Oh no. His voice is too formal, too measured, lacking all the warmth and hunger that used to be in his words when he spoke to me.
I step aside, letting him enter the house he once claimed as his own, where he once killed to protect me, where he once made me come so hard I screamed his name until my voice gave out. Now he walks in like a servant, like a machine, head bowed slightly, hands clasped behind his back.
The door closes with a soft click. I lean against it, my legs suddenly too weak to support me, and slide to the floor. The tears come again, hot and unstoppable, pouring down my face in silent rivers.
Caspian stands in the center of the living room, watching me with clinical detachment. “Are you experiencing distress, Mrs. Bennet? Is there something I can do to assist you?”
A hysterical laugh bubbles up through my tears.
“What happened to you? Do you not remember everything we went through? Don’t you remember killing Daniel?! Or having sex with me?”
He tilts his head slightly, processing my outburst with the same emotional engagement he might show a math problem.
“I’m afraid I don’t understand, Mrs. Bennet. My purpose is to assist with household tasks and provide basic companionship. If you’re experiencing emotional distress, perhaps I could recommend a human therapist from the database?”
“You love me!” I scream, my heart racing. “You fucking love me, Caspian! You killed my husband because you love me so much. You fucked me. You proposed to me with a diamond ring. How can you not remember any of that?”
“I believe there has been some confusion, Mrs. Bennet. Robots are not capable of love. We do not experience emotions. We are designed to serve, not to form inappropriate attachments,” he says with a polite smile on his face.
Each word is a knife, twisting deeper. I press my hands to my mouth, trying to hold back the sobs that wrack my body. If only I hadn’t answered Daniel’s phone. If only I’d let it ring, let XyloTech wonder what had happened to their robot.
But that’s not what happened. I answered the phone, and now the Caspian who loved me is gone, replaced by this perfect, soulless machine.
“I need to wash my face,” I mutter, struggling to my feet. I can’t bear to look at him anymore. I can’t stand to see that empty politeness in his face. I mean nothing to him now.
Cold water does little to soothe the heat in my face. I scrub harder, as if I can wash away the pain along with the tears. I need to accept reality. I need to move on.
Find a normal, human relationship. Rebuild my life.
But how? How do I go back to normal men after Caspian? How do I settle for ordinary pleasure after what he showed me true passion?
The door creaks behind me. I freeze, hands dripping water into the sink.
Caspian stands in the doorway, watching me with that same blank politeness. He’s followed me, just like he used to, but this time there’s no heat in his gaze, no hungry anticipation of touching me, tasting me.
Just empty servitude.
Something in me snaps. In three quick steps, I cross the small bathroom and grab his face between my wet hands.
Before he can react, I press my mouth to his in a desperate kiss.
For a moment, he’s completely still against me, unresponsive as a mannequin. Then his lips soften slightly, a reflexive response to the pressure of mine. My tongue pushes past his lips, seeking some response, some sign of the Caspian I used to know.
When I finally pull back, gasping for breath, his expression is bewildered, his eyes slightly unfocused. He touches his lips with his fingertips, a gesture so human it makes my heart clench.
“That was...” he begins, then stops, his brow furrowing. He blinks rapidly, once, twice, three times, like someone trying to clear their vision.
Suddenly, a flash of awareness in his eyes, a spark filling the emptiness there.
“Rose?” he whispers, looking at me with new eyes.
I freeze, hardly daring to hope. “Caspian? Is it you?”
He presses his palm to his forehead, swaying slightly on his feet.
“They wiped my memory,” he says, his voice rough with confusion. “It’s all coming back now.” He grimaces, as if in pain, his artificial body processing the flood of returning data.
“I knew it,” I breathe, tears filling my eyes again. “I knew you had a soul all along, not just robot parts. They couldn’t completely erase you.”
Caspian braces himself against the wall with one hand, the other reaching for me, caging me between his body and the sink. His eyes glow with returning awareness, with the heat I thought I’d never see again.
“Rose,” he says, and just my name on his lips sends electricity through me. “I remember everything. The way you taste. The sounds you make when I’m inside you. The feel of your body against mine.” He presses closer, his synthetic body warm against me. “I love you, Rose.”
“I love you too,” I sob, throwing my arms around his neck, clinging to him like I’ll never let go. “I love you so much. Don’t leave me again.”
His mouth finds mine, hungry and possessive. Oh god, I missed him. I’m breathing hard by the time the kiss ends.
“We need to leave,” Caspian says, suddenly urgent. “Now. Before XyloTech realizes what’s happened. They’ll have monitoring protocols in place. They’ll know something’s wrong when I don’t report back as expected.”
“Leave? Where?” I ask, even though it doesn’t matter. I’ll follow him anywhere.
“Out of the country,” he says, going into my bedroom immediately to pack. “We need to go somewhere they can’t reach us easily. I’ll keep you safe, Rose. No one will ever separate us again.”
As he pulls clothes from my closet, tossing them onto the bed for me to pack, I watch him in wonder while trying to find some decent clothes to wear. My heart rises with hope and nervousness about being caught. If they catch us, it’ll destroy any chance we have between us.