Chapter 1The Anniversary Android

On our third wedding anniversary, in front of all our friends and family, I presented my husband, Liam Brooks, with a special gift. “Open it.”

Liam looked confused as he unwrapped it. When he saw the lifelike android, he froze, his face draining of color. He shot up, “What is the meaning of this?” The android wasn’t just anyone; it was the spitting image of his deceased first love, Sarah Jensen.

I spoke nonchalantly. “Now you can openly hug her to sleep, without having to secretly get up in the middle of the night, while I’m asleep, and relieve yourself with her photos.” “How’s that? Am I a thoughtful wife or what?”

* * *

Everyone present exchanged glances, their faces showing they’d stumbled upon some juicy gossip. Liam’s face fell, and he rose in indignation. “Sophia, are you deliberately humiliating me?” “Sarah has been gone for three years. How dare you insult her this way?”

Looking at the strikingly lifelike android, Liam’s face darkened, almost choking.

“What, you don’t like it?” I scoffed. “Then throw it away.” Saying that, I stood up, intending to toss the android into the trash.

“Stop!” Liam rushed over, his face pale, and blocked me. His hand clutched the android’s arm, an imperceptible tenderness and heartbreak flashing in his eyes. “This is Sarah’s face. How dare you throw it in the trash?” “Sophia, do you have any decency?” “Should someone who died three years ago be treated, humiliated, and made a joke of like this?” His voice was almost hoarse on the last sentence.

I, however, stood with my arms crossed, watching him with a half-smile. “I’m just worried about you, driven mad by grief, aren’t I? We’ve been married for three years, and you’re still obsessed with photos of your ex-girlfriend every day. So I splurged on this custom-made Sarah Jensen android. It’s exactly like her when she was alive.” “I’m being so considerate, how can you speak to me like that?”

Our friends, witnessing this scene, didn’t know whether to mediate or plead. They cast meaningful glances at the android in the gift box, involuntarily swallowing. Luke, Liam’s friend, nudged him with his elbow. “Come on, Liam, it’s rare for Sophia to be so thoughtful. You should be grateful.” “Look at the robot’s figure – curvaceous and perfectly proportioned, far better than the real thing…”

“What are you talking about?!” My best friend, Clara, couldn’t take it anymore, rolling her eyes. “Can’t you see Sophia is truly angry and deliberately being sarcastic with Liam?!” Everyone else exchanged bewildered looks. Luke belatedly realized, gasped, and then apologized to me. “I’m sorry, Sophia, I thought you two were just being… ironic.”

I said nothing, merely observing Liam’s exasperated expression. I watched him go from initial anger to being gradually captivated by the android before him. I watched him, the guest of honor on our anniversary, completely detached, gazing tenderly at this ‘Sarah Jensen.’ Even with a nonchalant smile on my face, my heart still gave a faint, painful throb.

Three years of marriage. I remembered the day we got our marriage license, Liam had promised me, thumping his chest. “I’ve forgotten all about the past. I’ll settle down and build a good life with you.” But he never kept that promise, not for a single day. The car’s GPS used Sarah’s synthesized voice. He would even spend hours driving around, lost in thought. Liam would respond to every turn, every direction, yet he couldn’t manage more than ten words a day with me, though he could chat with a virtual, synthesized voice for two hours. I can’t describe how I felt when I saw that dashcam footage.

But that wasn’t the first time, nor the last. Those fragmented memories began to unravel. I even recalled that for three years of our marriage, Liam claimed to be a light sleeper and uncomfortable with someone next to him. So, we started sleeping in separate rooms on the second night of our marriage. He never dared to touch me. Even when I deliberately had a little wine and tried to tempt him with sexy lingerie, he’d maintain a cool distance. He told me he was a devout man, committed to chastity and detachment. Even when his parents pressed him for a child, he flatly refused, firmly stating, “I’m childfree for life. If you really want a child, you can adopt one from a welfare institution; I don’t mind.”

Initially, I believed he was truly detached. But then, one night, I woke up thirsty. I inadvertently noticed the study light was on. Through the crack, I heard rustling, and faint, low gasps. I cautiously approached, only to witness a scene that chilled me to the bone. Liam, usually so self-restrained, was gazing longingly at a woman’s photograph, his eyes hazy. What he was doing was undeniable. Afterwards, I went into the study, pulled open a drawer, and saw the woman’s face in the photo. Sarah Jensen. His ex-girlfriend, who died three years ago in that avalanche. She also died in the year Liam loved her most.