Chapter 1
My husband and I were programmers in the same project team.
Yet, he stole my source code to create a bionic human, "resurrecting" his first love who had been dead for ten years.
I saw that Naomi's face looked exactly like it did in her photos at eighteen, but the way she talked and acted was a lot like me.
It turned out he hadn't just stolen the code; he also used all the details from our life together to shape this machine.
Furious, I confronted him, but he showed no remorse.
"What's the big deal? We can just get divorced. I only married you because you were so devoted to me, and because you could write code and give me data I could use.
"Now Naomi loves me more than you ever did. Why would I need you, a wife who will grow old and die?"
He thought that by throwing me away, he could be with his beloved Naomi forever.
Little did he know, there was a reason this code was never used. It had a fatal flaw.
"Natalie, if you can't deliver this code by next week, you're out as team lead. Get lost from the project group!"
This was the 53rd time Thomas had berated me over the newly developed AI chip.
In terms of capability, his threats were empty. This project would collapse without me.
But as the lead, I knew the results couldn't be delivered yet.
Back in my office, I checked my phone—still no notifications.
It was Valentine's Day, and my husband Charles Burns had taken the day off.
In previous years, I had always prepared surprises for him, but this year he had been secretive for weeks.
Sometimes he'd sneak phone calls away from me. Once, I overheard him mentioning a couple's restaurant and fireworks, so I quietly closed the stairwell door.
These were all things I loved; he must have been planning something special.
I secretly felt excited.
By 2 PM, I couldn't wait any longer and called Charles. The line was busy. He had hung up.
Near the end of the workday, I tried twice more, only to hear an impatient voice. "What is it? Speak."
"Charles, it's Valentine's Day, I..."
Before I could finish, he cut me off.
"So what? Aren't you working overtime?"
His attitude reminded me of when we first met in graduate school, always cold-faced and reticent.
Back then, I didn't mind, thinking it was just his nature.
Even though I consistently ranked first academically, I'd constantly seek out this perpetual runner-up to ask questions, just to hear him speak more.
That year, our department had only one scholarship for an international exchange.
Knowing Charles came from a poor family, I intentionally underperformed on the exam to give him the spot.
Later, I self-funded my studies abroad to be with him, and he gradually warmed up to me.
After we were both recruited into the project team and I became the lead, he suddenly proposed. I was deeply moved.
Remembering this, an inexplicable unease gripped me. I grabbed my car keys and rushed to the couple's restaurant he'd mentioned days earlier.
But a male staff member stopped me coldly. "Sorry, we only admit guests with reservations."
I feigned composure. "I have one. Under my husband's name, Charles Burns. Please check."
The staff scrolled through his tablet, looking troubled. "But this gentleman has already been seated with his wife. You are..."
My heart sank. I found Charles' car in the parking lot and waited nearby.
An hour later, when he emerged with a woman on his arm, my blood ran cold.
For a moment, shock overwhelmed any jealousy.
Naomi? How could it be her? Wasn't she dead?