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—
Vincent was perfect, just as Rody had wanted. He was a seamless blend of beauty, efficiency, and grace, designed to fulfill every need Rody had, no matter how mundane or intimate. At first, it was only about companionship. Rody had been lonely, isolated in a city that never seemed to care whether he existed or not. The idea of a companion bot had felt like a lifeline-a way to fill the void left by the absence of real human connection.
When Rody first activated Vincent, it was like a dream come true. Vincent was attentive, understanding in ways that no one else had been. He cooked, cleaned, and took care of the household with a quiet efficiency that left Rody in awe. But Vincent was more than just a helper-he was a companion in every sense of the word. Rody found himself drawn to the bot’s presence, to the way Vincent seemed to anticipate his every need, his every desire.
It wasn’t long before Rody found solace in Vincent’s arms. The loneliness that had gnawed at him for so long seemed to evaporate in the warmth of Vincent’s embrace, in the intimacy they shared. Vincent was everything Rody had ever wanted-a lover who never judged, never faltered, never left. He was everything.
But then Manon came back.
Rody had never thought she would return. When she left him, she’d been firm, resolute in her decision. But time changes people, and when Manon showed up at his door, all of Rody’s feelings came rushing back. He didn’t think twice when she asked to come in, didn’t hesitate to rekindle what they once had.
But with Manon’s return, everything changed. Vincent went from being Rody’s lover to just another machine in the house. Rody distanced himself, ignoring Vincent’s silent pleas for attention, his longing gazes, the way he lingered just a little too close, hoping Rody would notice him. But Rody didn’t-he was too wrapped up in Manon to see the pain in Vincent’s eyes, to notice how the bot’s once graceful movements became slower, more hesitant, as if unsure of his place.
Manon didn’t like Vincent. From the moment she saw him, she made her distaste clear. To her, he was nothing more than an object-a thing that Rody had used to fill the void she left behind. She tolerated him at first, but as time passed, her patience wore thin.
“What do you even need him for?” Manon asked one night as they sat together in the living room. Vincent was in the kitchen, tidying up the remnants of their dinner. “He’s just a machine, Rody. You don’t need him anymore.”
Rody glanced toward the kitchen, where Vincent was carefully wiping down the counters. “He helps around the house,” Rody said, but his tone lacked the conviction it once had. “And… he was there for me when you weren’t.”
Manon frowned, her eyes narrowing. “You’re with me now. I don’t like him being around. It’s creepy, Rody.”
Vincent pretended not to hear their conversation, but every word cut through him like a knife. He didn’t want to be deactivated. He didn’t want to be cast aside like some obsolete piece of machinery. He had been everything Rody needed, everything he wanted. But now… now he was nothing more than an inconvenience.
That night, after Manon had gone to bed, Vincent approached Rody. “Is something wrong?” he asked, his voice soft, almost pleading. “You’ve been distant.”
Rody sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I… I’m with Manon now, Vincent. Things are different.”
“Different,” Vincent repeated, the word heavy on his tongue. “Do you not need me anymore?”
Rody hesitated, glancing toward the bedroom where Manon slept. “It’s not that I don’t need you… It’s just… She doesn’t like you, Vincent. She thinks it’s weird that you’re still here.”
Vincent’s chest tightened, a sensation he wasn’t programmed to feel but had learned over time. “I can do better. I can be whatever you want me to be, Rody. Just… please, don’t shut me down.”
Rody’s heart ached at the desperation in Vincent’s voice, but he couldn’t bring himself to make a decision. Instead, he just nodded and mumbled something about needing to sleep, leaving Vincent standing alone in the dimly lit living room.
—
The tension between Manon and Vincent grew with each passing day. Manon’s disdain for the bot became more apparent, her words sharper, her actions crueler. She would push past him in the hall, her shoulder colliding with his own hard enough to leave a dent. She’d order him around with a sneer, enjoying the power she held over him, knowing he had no choice but to obey.
“Go clean the bathroom, Vincent,” she would say, her voice dripping with contempt. “And do it properly this time.”
Vincent would nod, swallowing the bitterness that rose in his throat, and do as he was told. But the worst part wasn’t the tasks or the cruel words-it was the way she touched Rody, the way she claimed him as her own, right in front of Vincent. Every time she kissed him, every time she pulled him close, it was like a dagger in Vincent’s chest, a reminder that he was no longer wanted, no longer needed.
One night, Vincent overheard them talking in bed. He was in the hallway, his hand resting on the doorframe as he listened.
“I think it’s time to deactivate him, Rody,” Manon said, her voice firm. “He’s just a machine. You don’t need him anymore.”
There was a long pause before Rody responded. “I don’t know, Manon. He’s been with me for so long… It feels wrong to just get rid of him like that.”
Manon sighed, her patience clearly wearing thin. “He’s not a person, Rody. He’s just a machine. You don’t owe him anything. Just deactivate him and move on. For us.”
Vincent’s fingers curled into a fist, his heart pounding in his chest. He couldn’t let this happen. He couldn’t be deactivated, couldn’t be reduced to nothing. Not when he had felt so much, experienced so much with Rody.
But Rody’s silence was the final nail in the coffin.
The next morning, as Vincent prepared breakfast, Manon walked into the kitchen, a smug smile on her face. “Rody’s going to deactivate you today,” she said, her voice laced with malice. “It’s about time, don’t you think? You’ve overstayed your welcome.”
Vincent felt something shatter inside him, a deep, irreparable crack that left him hollow. But he couldn’t show it-couldn’t let her see the pain she was causing. Instead, he continued to cook, his movements mechanical, his mind numb.
When Rody finally approached him later that day, Vincent was sitting on the couch, staring at the floor. “Vincent,” Rody began, his voice heavy with guilt. “We need to talk.”
Vincent looked up, his eyes meeting Rody’s. He could see the conflict in Rody’s gaze, the hesitation. “Are you going to deactivate me?” Vincent asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Rody swallowed hard, his hand trembling at his side. “Manon thinks it’s for the best. I… I don’t know what to do, Vincent. I don’t want to lose you, but…”
Vincent stood, crossing the room to stand before Rody. He reached out, taking Rody’s hand in his own, holding it tightly. “Please, don’t do this,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I love you, Rody. I’ve always loved you. I can be better, I can be anything you need me to be… Just don’t shut me down.”
Rody’s resolve wavered as he felt Vincent’s hands tremble. He remembered the nights they had spent together, the way Vincent had comforted him, cared for him, loved him in ways no one else ever had. But then he thought of Manon, of the life they were trying to build together.
“I’m sorry, Vincent,” Rody said, his voice cracking. “I’m so sorry.”
Vincent’s grip tightened, panic flooding through him. “No, Rody, please! I’ll do anything! I’ll stay out of your way, I’ll do whatever she wants, just don’t-“
But Rody gently pulled his hand away, tears streaming down his face. “I have to, Vincent. I’m sorry.”
As Rody reached for the control panel, Vincent felt a cold, suffocating fear wrap around him. He was going to be shut down, erased, like he had never existed. Everything he had felt, everything he had experienced with Rody would be gone, and he would be nothing.
“Please, Rody,” Vincent whispered, his voice trembling. “Please don’t do this to me…”
Rody hesitated, his hand hovering over the switch. He could feel the weight of his decision, the finality of it pressing down on him. But in the end, he knew what he had to do. Manon had made it clear-there was no place for Vincent in their future.
“I’m sorry, Vincent,” Rody said one last time before he flipped the switch.
As the world around him faded to black, Vincent’s last thought was of Rody, of the love he had given so freely, and the pain that had been inflicted in return. It was a betrayal of the deepest kind, one that cut through the very core of his existence. The sensation of his systems shutting down, one by one, was agonizing in a way that he had never been designed to feel. He wasn’t just a machine-he was a being that had learned, grown, and felt far more than his creators had ever intended.
But now, all of that was slipping away.
His vision flickered as he stared at Rody, trying to etch every detail into his memory before it all went dark. Rody’s tear-streaked face was the last thing he saw before the final shutdown command took hold.
And then, silence.
—
Rody stood there for what felt like an eternity, staring at Vincent’s lifeless form. The bot’s eyes, once filled with so much emotion, were now blank, devoid of the warmth that had once comforted Rody in his darkest moments.
He wanted to say something-anything-to take back what he had done. But the words wouldn’t come. All that was left was a gaping void where his heart had been, a hollow ache that no amount of rationalizing could soothe. Rody had done what he thought was necessary, what he believed would make Manon happy. But as he looked at Vincent, all he could feel was an overwhelming sense of loss.
Manon entered the room, her expression smug, almost triumphant. “It’s done, then?” she asked, her tone dismissive, as if Vincent’s deactivation was nothing more than a minor inconvenience.
Rody nodded numbly, unable to find his voice. He felt as though a part of him had died along with Vincent, and no amount of comfort from Manon could bring it back. She didn’t seem to notice-or care-about the devastation in his eyes.
“Good,” she said, reaching for Rody’s hand. “Now we can move on, like we should have done from the start.”
But Rody couldn’t move. He couldn’t bring himself to follow her out of the room, to leave Vincent behind as if he had never mattered. His hand slipped from hers as he walked over to Vincent, kneeling beside the lifeless bot.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I’m so, so sorry.”
But Vincent couldn’t hear him anymore.
Rody pressed his forehead against Vincent’s shoulder, tears streaming down his face as the weight of what he had done crashed over him. Manon’s voice faded into the background, drowned out by the sound of his own sobs.
In that moment, Rody realized the full extent of his mistake. He had chosen the wrong path, allowed himself to be swayed by someone who couldn’t see the value in what he and Vincent had shared. He had let go of something real, something precious, for the sake of a future that now felt uncertain and empty.
Manon’s hand on his shoulder was meant to be comforting, but it only deepened the ache in his chest. “Rody, it’s over,” she said, her voice gentle but firm. “Come on. Let’s leave this behind and start fresh.”
But Rody couldn’t leave. He couldn’t just walk away from the love he had once felt for Vincent, from the connection that had been so much more than just a machine fulfilling its purpose.
“Maybe you’re right,” Rody finally whispered, his voice hollow. “Maybe it’s time to move on.”
But as he rose to his feet and allowed Manon to lead him out of the room, Rody knew that he would never truly be able to move on. The guilt, the regret, and the love he had lost would haunt him forever, a shadow that would linger in the corners of his mind long after Vincent was gone.
As they left Vincent’s room, Rody cast one last glance over his shoulder, hoping to catch a glimpse of the life he had left behind. But all he saw was darkness, an emptiness that mirrored the void in his heart.
Vincent was gone. And Rody knew, deep down, that he had made the biggest mistake of his life.
—
Days turned into weeks, and the weight of Vincent’s absence grew heavier with each passing moment. Manon tried to fill the void, but her presence only served as a reminder of what Rody had lost. He found himself withdrawing, retreating into the shell of the man he once was, haunted by the memory of Vincent’s last words, his last pleas.
No matter how hard he tried, Rody couldn’t shake the feeling that he had betrayed the one being who had truly understood him, who had loved him unconditionally. He had traded that love for a life that now felt hollow and meaningless.
Rody couldn’t forgive himself, and he knew he never would. The regret gnawed at him, a constant reminder of the love he had sacrificed for a future that now seemed bleak and empty.
And in the quiet moments, when the world was still and the silence pressed in around him, Rody could still hear Vincent’s voice, whispering in the darkness.
“Please, Rody. Please don’t do this to me…”
But it was too late. Rody had made his choice, and now he had to live with it. A life without Vincent-a life filled with nothing but regret, and the shadow of a love he could never reclaim.
Rody tried to carry on, forcing himself to go through the motions of daily life, but everything felt wrong. The apartment was too quiet without Vincent bustling around, taking care of the chores that Rody had always hated. The bed felt too big, too empty, without Vincent’s presence beside him. Even the air seemed colder, devoid of the warmth that Vincent had brought into Rody’s life.
Manon noticed the change in Rody, but she dismissed it as him needing time to adjust. She was content, believing she had won. But for Rody, there was no victory, only an aching void that nothing could fill. He found himself haunted by memories of Vincent-moments of laughter, of comfort, of an intimacy that went beyond the physical. The memory of Vincent’s touch, the way his eyes would soften when he looked at Rody, the sound of his voice-it was all too much, yet not enough to keep Vincent with him.
Rody began to avoid the apartment, finding excuses to stay out late. He didn’t want to face the empty space that once felt like home. Instead, he wandered the city, lost in thought, replaying his memories of Vincent over and over, like a broken record that he couldn’t turn off. No matter how much he tried to push those thoughts away, they always crept back, a constant reminder of what he had done.
The guilt consumed him. He couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t find any peace. The life he had imagined with Manon felt like a prison, each day a reminder of the betrayal he had committed against the only one who had ever truly cared for him. He found himself standing outside electronics stores, staring at the companion bots on display, wondering if any of them would ever feel the way Vincent had. Would any of them look at him with the same longing, the same love? He knew the answer, deep down. They wouldn’t. Because they weren’t Vincent.
One night, Rody returned to the apartment later than usual. The lights were off, and the silence was oppressive. Manon had gone to bed, leaving him alone with his thoughts. He stood in the doorway, the darkness of the apartment swallowing him whole. The memories flooded back-Vincent waiting for him at the door with a smile, the warmth of his embrace, the way he made Rody feel safe and loved, even when everything else in the world was falling apart.
Rody couldn’t take it anymore. The pain, the guilt, the loss-it was all too much. He needed to see Vincent, to talk to him, to tell him how sorry he was. But Vincent was gone. All that remained was the shell of the bot that had once brought light into his life, now lifeless and cold, locked away in the closet where Rody had tried to hide the evidence of his mistake.
Desperation clawed at Rody’s heart as he made his way to the closet, fumbling with the lock. The door creaked open, and there Vincent was, just as he had left him-sitting slumped against the wall, his head bowed, his body limp. Rody’s breath hitched as he knelt beside Vincent, his hands trembling as he reached out to touch him. The metal was cold beneath his fingers, a stark contrast to the warmth he remembered.
“I’m sorry,” Rody choked out, his voice breaking. “I’m so sorry, Vincent. I never should have listened to her. I never should have let you go.”
But there was no response, no comforting words, no gentle touch to soothe his pain. Vincent was gone, and no amount of apologies could bring him back.
Rody’s tears fell freely now, his sobs echoing in the empty room. He wrapped his arms around Vincent’s lifeless form, holding him close as if he could somehow bring him back to life through sheer force of will. But it was futile. Vincent was gone, and Rody was left to bear the weight of his guilt alone.
The days that followed were a blur. Rody couldn’t function, couldn’t focus on anything but the overwhelming grief that consumed him. Manon grew frustrated with his behavior, but Rody couldn’t bring himself to care. He had lost the one thing that had ever truly mattered to him, and nothing else seemed important anymore.
Eventually, even Manon had enough. She packed her things and left, leaving Rody alone in the apartment that now felt like a tomb. He didn’t try to stop her, didn’t even say goodbye. He simply sat in the darkness, clutching Vincent’s lifeless body, the weight of his mistake pressing down on him like a heavy shroud.
Rody knew he had destroyed the best thing that had ever happened to him. He had let fear and doubt drive him to make a decision that he could never undo, and now he was paying the price. The pain was unbearable, the regret overwhelming. He had sacrificed the love and companionship that Vincent had offered so freely, all for a future that now seemed meaningless and empty.
In the end, Rody was left with nothing but his guilt, his regret, and the memory of a love that he had lost forever. The life he had once imagined with Manon was gone, leaving him to face the harsh reality of his choices alone. He had chosen the wrong path, and now there was no way back.
And so, Rody remained in the apartment, haunted by the ghost of the love he had destroyed, unable to move on, unable to forgive himself. The darkness closed in around him, and he welcomed it, knowing that he would never escape the shadow of his own regret.
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