The second year of my arranged marriage to Julian Vance, my college boyfriend suddenly moves back to the city. My husband, usually a man of icy, perfect composure, hands me divorce papers. I stare at them. "What's this?" His voice actually trembles. "Your old flame is back. I'll get out of the way." Me: "...Huh??" 1 I got home from the networking dinner at almost eleven. I kicked off my heels, rubbing the ache in my neck as I walked in, only to be blocked by my husband. Julian was staring at me, his face a cold mask. "You were drinking?" "A little." He let out a sharp, cold laugh. "You don't usually drink. What, so happy to see an old flame?" My brain was sluggish from the wine. It took a second to realize he was being passive-aggressive. I looked up, meeting his eyes. "If you have something to say, just say it. I'm exhausted." His gaze drifted over my face, then suddenly locked on one spot, his eyes turning to ice. "Why is your neck red?" I instinctively reached up to scratch it. "I don't know, a big bite, probably?" His tone was laced with sarcasm. "Was that 'bug' named Connor Grant?" Connor Grant. My ex-boyfriend's name. Suddenly, Julian's weird mood made sense. Before I could say anything, he thrust the papers in his clenched fist toward me. "Sign it." My eyes dropped. I read the words at the top: DIVORCE AGREEMENT. No exaggeration, I sobered up instantly. "What?" I said, incredulous. "Why are you suddenly doing this?" "Isn't this what you want?" he said. "Connor just got back, and you immediately run off to have drinks with him, coming home with..." His eyes darted back to my neck, and he fell silent. "I wasn't drinking with him," I argued. "I was with Mr. Kincaid from TransCore. I told you about that project." "You were drinking with Connor." He latched onto it. "Yes, he was there," I explained, "but I didn't know he would be! He and Kincaid are friends. They were all networking. I could hardly kick him out, could I?" The more ridiculous thought, I kept to myself. What right would I have to kick him out? We're not even friends... Julian was silent for a moment. "Forget the TransCore deal. The margins are low anyway. I'll find you something better." A golden opportunity dropping from the sky was great, but I was still stuck. "Why do you care so much about Connor?" Julian and I have an arranged marriage. After a year, we're still barely acquaintances. Our conversations revolve around meals and sleep, with the occasional update on our respective work. That's it. This... robot-like mode even extends to our married life. We are intimate every Friday night. Three times. Exactly. In the year we've been married, there has not been a single exception. I'd complained about this to my best friend, Maya. She was floored, but finally just sighed, "I guess that's just Julian for you." Julian is a legend in our circle. Everyone grew up hearing their parents talk about him, living in his shadow. Being good at one thing is normal. Being good at everything, like him, is freakish. And on top of it, he's hyper-disciplined and emotionally stable. It's impossible not to admire him. I used to admire him, too. Until I married him. How is this high-spec AI my husband? The "golden boy" is definitely meant to be admired from afar. Living with him is a serious test of your sanity. The AI-husband spoke. "Why shouldn't I care?" I clarified, "We dated, sure, but that was years ago. We broke up. I'm your wife now. There's... nothing between us." "I hope you mean that." "What?" "I don't allow flaws in my life. That includes my marriage," he said. "I won't have my marriage end because you cheated." "..." So that's what this was about. I gave him my most sincere guarantee. "I won't." Julian got the answer he wanted and turned, walking into the bedroom. 2 By the time I finished washing up, it was nearly midnight. I was lying in bed, half-asleep, when I heard him ask, "What do you want for breakfast tomorrow?" "What are the options?" "Crab and pork wontons, pan-fried beef potstickers, or strawberry pancakes." "Potstickers," I said. "Extra crispy this time." "Mm." Maybe I didn't eat enough at the dinner, because the thought of Julian's beef potstickers made my stomach growl. The high-spec AI was also a Michelin-star-level chef. I've eaten plenty of good food in my life, but Julian's cooking was always on another level. The first time I had his crab wontons, they were so good I almost swallowed my own tongue. I swallowed. "Are the... potstickers already made?" "Yeah," he said. "Made them tonight. While you were out drinking with Connor." "..." I turned my head to look at him, suspicious. I had a strange thought: The Julian who mentioned Connor didn't sound like an AI at all... If I didn't know him better, I'd almost think he was jealous. My jealousy. But how was that possible? The robot spoke. "What's wrong?" "Nothing." I pushed the ridiculous thoughts out of my head. But his little interruption meant I couldn't possibly ask for the potstickers now. I was terrified he'd just shoot back with: Didn't Connor feed you when you were out drinking with him? 3 I woke up late the next morning. Julian's beef potstickers were already packed in a high-end thermos. He handed me a bottle of a freshly made kale-and-date smoothie and said a quiet, "See you." Watching him leave, I suddenly thought that, robot or not, he did take pretty good care of me. I ate breakfast at my desk. Just as I was about to start working, my best friend Maya texted. Maya: Heard Connor Grant's back in town! ? Me: Yeah, I know. Had drinks with him last night. Maya: WTF! **Maya:** SO FAST?!**Maya:**BABE! You're a married woman! You gotta be careful seeing him!` Me: ... This was my biggest headache. I hadn't dated anyone in the years since Connor and I broke up, simply because I didn't want to. But somehow, the rumor started that I was still hopelessly hung up on him. I tried to explain. It only made it worse. Even Maya, my best friend, thought I was just in denial. I called her directly. "I have explained this one million times. I have zero feelings for him." "Okay, okay," she said, not sounding convinced at all. "But you drinking with him... you better hope Julian doesn't find out." "..." "He already knows." "HE WHAT?!" I was tired of talking about Connor, but I was suddenly very excited to talk about Julian's non-AI behavior last night. I gave her the play-by-play of his strange reaction. I emphasized the part where he was so psycho he handed me divorce papers over it. "I mean, isn't his perfectionism a little... extreme?" Maya saw it differently. "I don't know, Chloe... sounds to me like he's trying to keep you." "What?" "He hands you the papers, you get scared, you back off from Connor. Makes sense." "What if I'd actually signed them?" "Would you?" "...No." Leaving aside the complex merger of our two family empires, on a practical level, I was not willing to divorce a catch like Julian. "The god is finally descending from Olympus!" Maya declared. Her dramatics made me roll my eyes. "It's more like the high-spec AI is finally getting a personality patch." "You should test him," Maya said, her voice giddy. "See if it's just a system glitch or if he's actually turning human." "How?" Her next words were loaded with suggestion. "Well, it's Friday, isn't it? Tonight, you two..." 4 Maya's plan was simple. It also made me blush. All I had to do was... ask for more. His "Friday, three times" schedule was so unwavering that if I could get him to break it... well, that would prove the robot's programming had changed, right? I hesitated. I debated. I almost chickened out. Finally, we were in bed. He leaned over me, our eyes met for a few seconds, and then he reached for the silk scarf on the nightstand, covering my eyes and tying it gently behind my head. I'd never questioned it before. I just figured it was his kink. But tonight, with a mission on my mind, I asked, "Why do you always cover my eyes?" Julian didn't answer. He just kissed me. The wet, soft pressure on my lips pulled my thoughts away. Gradually, I forgot I was even supposed to be investigating the eye-covering thing. The world tilted and spun. He held me in his hands, lifting me high, setting me down gently, my heart constricting over and over. Finally, round three was over. Julian pulled the sweat-dampened scarf from my eyes. I was staring straight into his—calm, placid, emotionless. Even after seeing those eyes a hundred times, I still wanted to scream. How?! How, after doing...that...is he always so damn CHILL? He stroked my cheek, a placating gesture, and started to pull away— Rage and determination surged through me. I snapped my legs shut, locking them around his waist. Julian wasn't expecting it. He toppled forward, his whole body landing heavily on mine. My hands instantly snaked around his neck. As he stared at me, completely stunned, I purred, "Can we go one more time?"
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