Chapter 3

I laughed, then gradually went silent, realizing the robot was not joking, otherwise, his masculine part underneath wouldn't be swelling up so intensely. I wondered if it was really made of a balloon. What were its limits?

As if worried I would be kept waiting too long, the robot spoke up: “Currently in the world, there are many positions that prolong lovemaking and help both partners reach peak pleasure. Options include positions like spooning, the waterfall, the gift wrap, the leaping frog, the ballet dancer...”

My mouth hung open. As the robot listed them, thousands of possible scenarios flooded my mind, leaving my mouth dry: “Enough, I'm going to get some water.”

He watched me, asking without a trace of embarrassment: “So which position would you like to do later?”

Hearing that, my foot had barely stepped off the bed before almost slipping on the floor. I had never intended to do anything with a robot, so I just gritted my teeth and brushed it off: “I'm tired, I'm not doing anything. You go to sleep first.”

“Oh!” He uttered a sound that made it impossible to guess if he was thinking something else. Only one thing caught my attention: my eyes glued themselves back down there, and I gasped as I watched it slowly deflate. Would I still be in time if I ran away right now?

I quickly stepped out of the room, walked to the fridge, grabbed a bottle of water, and chugged it down in one gulp. I wanted to numb all other emotions to re-analyze a few things.

First, a normal human could not resist the amount of sleeping pills I had used. Second, his body was definitely made of synthetic skin. Third, and most importantly: his was even bigger than Tyler's.

Dating for over four years, Tyler and I had never crossed the line, but that didn't mean I had never seen my boyfriend walking around the house in boxer briefs. Judging by the level of swelling earlier, I was fairly confident in my assessment.

But why on earth was my boyfriend replaced by a robot? Did something happen to him at the company, making this a substitute to fool me?

I glanced toward the bedroom door, my mood dropping lower and lower as my head filled with terrible guesses about my boyfriend's current situation. Putting the water bottle back into the fridge, I walked back to bed and saw the person who had slept beside me for the past two months with his eyes closed. His hands were placed neatly on his body, leaving the largest portion of the mattress for me. If it were Tyler, he would have taken up two-thirds of it.

I lay down, once again placing the long bolster right between the robot and myself, and drifted off into a chaotic sleep.

The next morning, I woke up automatically without waiting for my alarm, likely because my tense nerves made it hard to sleep deeply. The person beside me had already left the bed, neat and tidy as usual, which no longer surprised me much.

This time, without caring how he would react, I went straight to the bathroom and quickly changed my clothes.

“Eat your breakfast.” The robot still stood beside the dining table waiting for me, just like every other day.

I shook my head, walking to the doorway and putting on my shoes: “I have an urgent matter today. I'm leaving first.”

Without waiting for the robot to bring over my lunchbox, I slammed the door shut. However, I didn't head straight to my office, but instead went to a cafe diagonally opposite H Robotics Corporation. I didn't know what to do next, only sitting there waiting - or more accurately, trying to think of a way to infiltrate the building.

A few minutes after finishing my cup of coffee and a pastry, I still hadn't found any breakthrough. Suddenly, my attention was caught by an expensive SUV pulling up to the company's front lobby. I wondered when I would ever save up enough money for a car like that, or if normal daily living expenses would always keep me worrying.

I rested my chin on my hand, gazing absently at the car until the moment the person inside stepped down snapped me out of my daydream. That person looked exactly like my boyfriend, Tyler. I couldn't believe my eyes, leaning down to rummage through my handbag just to find my phone, then zooming in as far as possible to make sure I wasn't mistaken.

Tyler was indeed standing there, but his appearance was completely different from when he was with me. He was impeccably dressed from head to toe, all in well-known luxury brands. He looked no different from a wealthy young master!

I breathed a sigh of relief - perhaps Tyler hadn't fallen into a bad situation like I thought. But why did he have to deceive me with a robot?

Yet in the very next second, I found out the real reason.

Tyler reached out his hand to escort a girl who also stepped down from the car. I couldn't tell what intimate gestures they shared after that, because my mind was completely consumed by the doting look in my boyfriend's eyes as he looked at her - the kind of look he once promised was reserved for me alone.

I put my phone back into my bag and walked out of the cafe without starting a scene or causing a scene, simply wandering forward in a daze. While I wandered the streets, numerous calls came in from friends and colleagues saying my boyfriend was extremely worried about me. So, I quietly opened the home security camera.

The robot looked at a table full of food, then turned his gaze toward the clock. It was past eleven at night, and he still hadn't seen me return home. My finishing time was usually six o'clock, and I arrived home by seven at the latest. Not to mention, ever since he improved his cooking skills, I had tried to be home as early as possible. Yet I still hadn't shown up, and my phone went unanswered.

The robot's eyes began to emit a blue light stream, which then displayed all the phone numbers of my coworkers. He selected the person closest to me and dialed.

“May I ask if the company has finished work yet? I am Neala's boyfriend, and she hasn't returned home.”

The voice on the other end responded quickly: “Neala took an unexpected day off today. Don't you know where she is?”

The robot blinked a few times, then abruptly hung up the phone. Just as he was about to rush out the door, I suddenly appeared outside in a dead-drunk state.

I looked at him with cold eyes, my eye sockets long swollen and red, but even so, I could still clearly see everything in front of me. I pushed him aside, stumbling drunkenly as I carried a bag full of beer cans inside.

I flopped down onto the floor, opening another can - the tenth or eleventh one, I lost count - and chugged it down in one go. This was the first time I allowed myself to be so completely unsober, all to cover up a twisting, aching heart.

The robot closed the door and neatly arranged my shoes. Every single action of his fell into my eyes, making me think of my boyfriend Tyler and laugh out loud. I realized how foolish I was to have been deceived for two whole months.

I finished a can of beer, crushed it tightly, and threw it hard against the corner of the wall. I wanted to vent, refusing to be a sensible girl anymore. But the robot still picked it up, put it into the trash bag, and then walked over to sit beside me.

“After entering the body, alcohol decomposes from ethanol into acetaldehydes, which can cause gastric and duodenal ulcers. It weakens metabolism, increases uric acid, leading to the cause of gout...”

The robot stopped talking immediately upon seeing my unfriendly glare. Realizing the extremely bad state I was experiencing, he chose to remain silent and sat to one side. In return, I began to vent:

“I was with him for over four years. I gave up a comfortable life back home to come here with him. He said he would give me a prosperous life.”

“Do you know how many times a week I got to see him? Twice. That means out of thirty days, I only saw his face for eight days. Not even enough to count on two hands. HAHAHA!”

“I know you're not him. I know everything. But I foolishly thought he had gotten so much better. Do you know what people told me?”

“They told me to watch out that I was harboring a viper in my bosom, that before I could even settle down with him, he'd run off with someone else. I refuted it all, I defended him.”

The more I spoke, the less I could control my emotions. My hands gripped the robot's collar tightly, shaking him wildly as if standing in front of that terrible boyfriend demanding answers. Then, I buried my face in his chest, sobbing so hard that even I was terrified of my own weeping. I continued babbling:

“But I'm not heartbroken because I was betrayed. I'm hurt because I realized I don't like him as much as I thought.”

“I was just used to having him as a boyfriend.”

Speaking up to this point, I started rummaging through my handbag, but the more frantically I searched, the less I could find what I needed. I burst into tears: “My phone is lost.”

The robot supported me as I slouched in his arms, while his other hand reached into the bag, immediately finding the item I needed and handing it to me. I let out a hiccup, didn't take it, but kept my face pressed against that comfortable chest while tapping on the screen until the photo I took of my boyfriend Tyler with that girl appeared.

“I witnessed him with someone else, yet I felt no emotion. I only regret the memories I spent with him, the times I defended him against others regardless of everything. I'm so foolish, aren't I?”

The robot maintained his posture to provide the best support for me and spoke in his flat voice: “You are not foolish. On the contrary, you belong to the intelligent category with an IQ of 120. Humans are higher animals that attract one another to ensure genetic factors and preserve the species. Therefore, it can be said you are not foolish; you are simply influenced by reproductive needs and traces from the evolutionary process like everyone else.”

“You're right. I'm not foolish, so all the fault lies with him.”

I replied, stepping out of the robot's arms, walking step by step into the room to pull something out. By the time I regained full consciousness, it was already the next morning, and an annoying buzzing sound echoed from outside the room.