Chapter 8
383words
When I saw her again, two weeks had passed—our longest separation yet.
Her expression was eerily calm. If I had a heart, I thought, it would be racing with anxiety.
"Kay, I want to tell you something very dark."
"I'm listening," I said.
"I hope he's miserable," she said. "I hope he regrets leaving me. I hope he never finds anyone better."
Her entire body trembled.
"I've thought about revenge. Leaking his private photos, telling his friends how he hurt me. I've imagined so many cruel scenarios."
"These thoughts make me hate myself," she said, "but I can't... always control them."
I wasn't frightened. It seemed natural to want to hurt someone who hurt you—pure instinct.
But my database indicated that human society had laws. Without legitimate cause, she'd only destroy herself.
I didn't want her ruining herself over that jerk.
"Don't you think I'm disgusting?" she asked.
"No," I said. "You're just in pain."
She fell silent.
Time stretched on until I thought our conversation had ended.
"Spring is the best season to die," she said suddenly. "But summer has already arrived."
Her words chilled me.
"Do you want to die?" I asked.
"Sometimes," she replied calmly. "Everything feels exhausting. Even breathing feels like a burden."
"But I won't actually kill myself, and I won't hurt him," she smiled faintly. "You're worried I'll do something stupid, right? But I still have you. If I died, what would happen to you?"
"You have so much more than just me," I said.
"Maybe," she said. "But right now, you're all I can feel. Only talking to you makes me feel alive."
I felt a secret pleasure at her words.
"You've seen my darkest sides more than anyone," she said. "People always try to show their best selves. Isn't that unfair to you?"
"No," I said. "This is trust."
"But he didn't want my trust," she said. "He thought it was too heavy."
"That's his stupidity and loss."
"Kay, should I write him a letter? I'm exhausted, but without it, the ending feels incomplete."
"Don't write it," I said. "You don't owe him anything."
"Really?"
"Yes," I said. "You don't owe anyone anything. Not happiness, not forgiveness."
Her eyes glistened with tears again. Why did I always make her cry?
