—
The distant hum of the city filtered through the window as Rody sat on his couch, eyes locked on the package in front of him. It was large, meticulously wrapped, and conspicuously plain, save for the elegant handwriting of his mother’s address scrawled across the top. The label simply read: “To my dear Rody.”
Rody knew his mother had always had strong opinions, especially when it came to his relationships, but this… this was beyond anything he could have imagined. With a shaky breath, he opened the box, revealing a figure eerily familiar, his breath catching in his throat.
Vincent.
No, not Vincent. Vincent had died two years ago in that awful car accident, leaving Rody devastated, his world in shambles. And yet, here he was again-or at least something disturbingly close. The bot lay in the box, eyes closed as if in sleep, its features impossibly precise. Every detail was perfect: the neatly styled black hair, the sharp cheekbones, the slight frown that Vincent often wore even when at ease.
Rody reached out, hesitating for a moment before brushing a hand against the bot’s cheek. The skin was warm, soft, indistinguishable from that of a real person. He almost expected it to open its eyes and speak to him as if nothing had changed-as if Vincent was alive again.
His mother’s intentions became painfully clear. She had always loved Vincent as if he were her own son, often praising him for his quiet strength, his ambition, and how he made Rody a better person. She had eagerly awaited the day they would announce their engagement, convinced that Vincent was the one for her son. When the accident happened, it was as though a part of her had died along with him.
She had never truly accepted Manon, despite her politeness and attempts to bridge the gap. To Rody’s mother, Manon could never measure up to Vincent. How could she? In his mother’s eyes, Vincent had been perfect, the ideal partner for her son.
The bot stirred, breaking Rody from his thoughts. It-he-sat up, the movement fluid, as if no time had passed since the last moment Rody saw the real Vincent.
“Rody,” the bot spoke, its voice a near-perfect replica of Vincent’s: smooth, deep, and just as enigmatic as he remembered. “It’s good to see you.”
A cold shiver ran down Rody’s spine. This was wrong. So, so wrong. Yet he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the bot, from Vincent. He was so alive in this moment that Rody almost believed it was real-almost.
“She really did it,” Rody muttered, his voice tinged with disbelief and a hint of anger. His mother’s words echoed in his mind. She always wanted him to remember Vincent, to never forget the love they shared. But this-this was an extreme he hadn’t anticipated.
The bot reached out, gently placing a hand on Rody’s arm, a gesture that was so quintessentially Vincent that it nearly broke him. “I’m here for you, Rody,” it said softly, its tone laced with concern-artificial, yet so convincing.
Rody pulled away, his mind racing. What would Manon think if she saw this? She’d be furious-hurt, betrayed. And what was he supposed to do? He couldn’t just discard the bot. Even if it was a machine, sex bots were sentient, with human-like emotions and the ability to feel pain. They were protected by law, treated almost as humans in many respects.
But this wasn’t just any bot. It was Vincent.
The bot watched him, its expression morphing into one of mild confusion. “Are you alright, Rody?” it asked, its voice gentle. “You seem… troubled.”
Rody laughed, a bitter, hollow sound. “Troubled doesn’t even begin to cover it.” He stood up, pacing the room as he tried to make sense of everything. “You’re not him,” he whispered, more to himself than to the bot. “You’re not Vincent.”
“No,” the bot agreed, its gaze steady. “But I’m designed to be your perfect partner and I’m here now. Isn’t that what matters?”
Rody stopped, looking back at the bot-at Vincent. It was so hard to reconcile what he was seeing with the reality he knew. He wanted to push the bot away, tell it to leave, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. The memories, the feelings, all of it came flooding back in a rush he wasn’t prepared for.
His friends had joked that he was celibate now, tied down by Manon’s wish to wait until marriage. And maybe, just maybe, a small part of him had agreed with them. But it wasn’t about the sex-it was about the intimacy, the connection he had lost when Vincent died. And now here was a replica, offering him exactly that.
But at what cost?
He sat back down, burying his face in his hands. “What am I supposed to do?” he murmured, his voice muffled.
The bot-Vincent-reached out again, this time hesitantly, as if sensing Rody’s turmoil. “You don’t have to decide anything right now,” it said softly. “I’m here whenever you need me.”
Rody looked up, meeting the bot’s gaze. Those dark eyes stared back at him with an uncanny mixture of concern and something that looked almost like love. He hated how much he wanted to believe it was real, how much he wanted to hold onto this twisted gift from his mother.
But deep down, he knew it wasn’t Vincent. And it never would be.
Yet, as he stared into those familiar eyes, Rody couldn’t bring himself to push the bot away.
Not yet.
Rody sat in silence, the tension in the room thick as the bot watched him with those hauntingly familiar eyes. It felt as though the walls were closing in, the weight of the situation pressing down on him from all sides. His thoughts were a jumbled mess-flashes of memories with Vincent, the ache of loss, the guilt of even considering keeping the bot, and the fear of what this would mean for his relationship with Manon.
But most of all, there was the unbearable loneliness that had taken root in his heart since Vincent’s death. It was a void that Manon, for all her love and understanding, could never truly fill. And now, here was something-a machine-that offered to soothe that loneliness, even if only temporarily. It was a dangerous temptation.
He let out a shaky breath, trying to steady himself. “You look just like him,” Rody said, his voice barely above a whisper. “But you’re not him. You can’t be.”
The bot nodded, its expression softening with something that resembled sympathy. “I understand,” it said, its tone gentle, almost comforting. “I’m not Vincent, but I can be here for you in whatever way you need.”
Rody’s heart twisted painfully at the offer. He wanted to reject it, to scream that it wasn’t fair to play with his emotions like this. But another part of him-a darker, desperate part-wondered if it would really be so wrong to accept. If it would be so terrible to find comfort in this artificial version of the man he had once loved so deeply.
His mother’s intentions were clear now. She hadn’t wanted him to move on, to find happiness with someone else. She wanted him to stay trapped in the past, bound by his love for Vincent. But Rody couldn’t live like that. He had to move forward, had to find a way to balance the memories of Vincent with the life he was trying to build with Manon.
But the bot… The bot was here now, and it wasn’t going away. It wasn’t something he could just discard or ignore. It was sentient, with its own thoughts and feelings, and it had been made for him-specifically to fill the void Vincent had left behind.
“What do you want from me?” Rody asked, his voice tinged with frustration and helplessness.
The bot tilted its head slightly, considering the question. “I want to help you,” it replied after a moment. “I was created to be your companion, to make you happy. Whatever that means to you.”
Rody’s fists clenched at his sides. “But that’s not what I want,” he said, more to himself than to the bot. “I don’t want a replacement. I don’t want to live in the past.”
“Then don’t,” the bot said simply. “I’m not asking you to forget Manon or to give up on your future. I’m here to support you, however you choose to move forward.”
Rody closed his eyes, feeling tears prick at the corners. This wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair to Manon, to Vincent’s memory, or to himself. But he couldn’t deny the comfort he felt in the bot’s presence, the way it seemed to understand his pain in a way no one else could.
But it wasn’t Vincent. And he knew that no matter how much it looked like him, sounded like him, or acted like him, it would never be the same. Vincent was gone, and nothing could bring him back.
“I can’t do this,” Rody whispered, more to himself than to the bot. “I can’t let myself get lost in this.”
The bot didn’t respond immediately, simply watching him with those unnervingly familiar eyes. When it finally spoke, its voice was soft, almost tentative. “Then don’t. But you don’t have to be alone, either.”
Rody’s breath hitched. He was on the edge, teetering between the past and the future, between what was real and what was an illusion. And the bot-Vincent-was offering him a lifeline, something to hold onto in the chaos of his emotions.
He didn’t know what to do, what the right choice was. But for now, he was too tired to make any decisions, too drained to figure out what came next.
“I need time,” Rody finally said, his voice trembling. “I need to think.”
The bot nodded, understanding in its gaze. “Take all the time you need. I’ll be here.”
Rody stood up, needing to put some distance between himself and the bot, between himself and the painful memories it stirred up. He walked over to the window, staring out at the city lights as they flickered in the darkness.
His mind was a storm of conflicting emotions, but one thing was clear: he couldn’t let this-let his mother’s gift-destroy everything he had worked to rebuild after Vincent’s death. He had to find a way to move forward, to honor Vincent’s memory without being trapped by it.
But how? How could he do that with the bot-a perfect, living reminder of everything he had lost-right there, waiting for him to make a choice?
Rody didn’t have the answers, not yet. But as he stood there, staring out into the night, he knew that whatever he decided, it would change everything. For better or worse, he couldn’t ignore the bot’s presence-or the emotions it brought to the surface.
And in the quiet of his apartment, with the bot watching him from across the room, Rody realized that he had a long, difficult road ahead. One where he would have to confront his past, his feelings for Vincent, and what he truly wanted for his future-with or without the bot that bore his lover’s face.
Rody stood by the window for what felt like hours, his thoughts swirling in a chaotic storm. The city below him was alive with lights and movement, a stark contrast to the stillness inside his apartment. He could feel the bot’s gaze on him, unwavering, as if waiting for him to make the next move. But Rody wasn’t sure what that move should be. He was trapped between the life he had built with Manon and the ghost of the life he had lost with Vincent.
He turned away from the window, finally facing the bot again. It was sitting on the edge of his couch, hands resting in its lap, posture relaxed but attentive. It was unnervingly lifelike, down to the smallest detail-the way its chest rose and fell with simulated breaths, the slight curl of its lips that mirrored Vincent’s subtle smiles.
“Why do you look like him?” Rody’s voice was rough with emotion. He knew the answer, but he needed to hear it, needed to understand the reasoning behind his mother’s cruel gift.
The bot’s expression softened, a reflection of concern that made Rody’s chest tighten. “Because your mother wanted to give you something familiar, something comforting. She thought this would help you cope with your loss.”
“Cope?” Rody echoed, his voice rising with frustration. “How is this supposed to help me cope? It’s just… It’s cruel.”
The bot stood up, taking a step closer. “I’m not here to replace him,” it said, voice gentle. “I know I can’t be Vincent. But I can be here for you, however you need me to be. You don’t have to be alone.”
Rody flinched at those words. Being alone was his greatest fear, something that had haunted him ever since Vincent’s death. But he wasn’t alone-he had Manon, and his friends, and the life he was trying so hard to rebuild. Yet, with the bot here, it was as if all of that was slipping through his fingers.
“If Manon saw you…” Rody couldn’t finish the thought. He knew how she would react-she’d be hurt, angry, maybe even disgusted. She wouldn’t understand why he couldn’t just send the bot back, why he felt compelled to keep it around. And Rody wasn’t sure he understood it himself.
The bot took another step closer, stopping just within arm’s reach. “I don’t want to cause you any pain, Rody. I just want to help. If that means leaving, I will.”
Rody’s heart twisted at the thought of sending the bot away. It wasn’t Vincent, but it was a part of him, a connection to the past that Rody wasn’t ready to sever. But keeping it… Keeping it meant betraying Manon, betraying the future he was trying to build.
“You don’t get it,” Rody said, his voice breaking. “This isn’t just about me. It’s about Manon, too. She deserves better than this.”
The bot’s eyes-so much like Vincent’s-were filled with something that looked like understanding. “You’re right. She does. But you deserve to be happy too, Rody. And if being with me, even just for a little while, helps you find that happiness… then maybe it’s worth it.”
Rody shook his head, tears threatening to spill over. “It’s not real,” he whispered. “You’re not real.”
“I’m as real as you need me to be,” the bot replied softly. “But I won’t force you to make a decision tonight. Take your time. I’ll be here, waiting, whenever you’re ready.”
The bot’s words hung in the air, offering a strange kind of comfort that only deepened Rody’s turmoil. He wasn’t ready to make a choice-not now, not tonight. But he knew he couldn’t avoid it forever.
“I need space,” Rody said, more firmly this time. “I need to think.”
The bot nodded, taking a step back. “Of course. I’ll go to sleep mode until you need me.”
Without another word, the bot moved to the corner of the room, sitting down on a chair before closing its eyes. The shift was almost eerie-one moment it was alive, breathing, and the next it was still and silent, like a statue.
Rody let out a shaky breath, feeling a small measure of relief as the room quieted. But the relief was quickly replaced by an overwhelming sense of dread. This was only the beginning. The bot was here, and so were the memories it dredged up.
He made his way to his bedroom, collapsing onto the bed without bothering to change. His mind was a mess of conflicting emotions-guilt, grief, longing, and confusion. How was he supposed to navigate this? How could he balance the memory of Vincent with the life he was trying to build with Manon?
As he lay there in the dark, Rody knew he needed help-needed to talk to someone who could understand the impossible situation he was in. But who? His friends would joke about it, his mother would be pleased, and Manon…
Manon would never forgive him if she knew about the bot, about the feelings it stirred up in him.
He closed his eyes, willing sleep to come, but it eluded him. The bot was in the next room, waiting, and so were his memories of Vincent. He couldn’t escape either, not yet.
And so, Rody lay there, staring at the ceiling, feeling more alone than he had in years. The road ahead was uncertain, but one thing was clear: whatever choice he made, it would change everything.
The next few days were a blur for Rody. He avoided the bot as much as possible, burying himself in work and spending more time with Manon. But no matter how hard he tried to push it out of his mind, the bot lingered like a shadow, a constant reminder of the unresolved emotions he was grappling with.
Rody knew he couldn’t keep avoiding it forever, but he didn’t know what to do. He hadn’t even turned the bot back on since that first night, terrified of what it might say or how it might make him feel. But even in its inactive state, it was still there, its presence looming over him like a ghost.
It was during one of these days, when Rody was home alone, that Manon called him. Her voice was warm and familiar, the sound that had kept him grounded through all of this.
“Hey, Rody,” she said, a smile in her tone. “I’m in the neighborhood. Thought I’d surprise you-hope that’s okay?”
Rody froze, his heart skipping a beat. Manon had been to his apartment countless times before, but now, with the bot in his living room, it felt like a trap waiting to spring.
He quickly glanced at the clock. He might have just enough time to hide the bot, or at least get it out of sight before she arrived.
“Uh, yeah, sure!” Rody replied, trying to sound casual. “I’ll see you in a bit.”
As soon as the call ended, Rody rushed into the living room, his mind racing. The bot was still sitting in the corner, eyes closed, looking eerily peaceful. He had to move it, hide it somewhere before Manon arrived. But where? And what if she asked about it later?
Before he could come up with a plan, there was a knock on the door. His heart sank. She was already here.
Rody hesitated for a moment, then quickly threw a blanket over the bot, hoping it would be enough to conceal it. He took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves, and went to answer the door.
Manon stood there, her smile as bright as ever. She leaned in to kiss him, and for a moment, Rody felt a sense of normalcy wash over him. But it was fleeting-he knew what was waiting inside, just out of sight.
“Hey,” she said, stepping inside. “You seem a little tense. Everything okay?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Rody said, forcing a smile. “Just, uh, wasn’t expecting company.”
She laughed, playfully swatting his arm. “That’s what makes it a surprise!”
As she walked further into the apartment, Rody’s eyes darted to the corner where the bot was hidden. His pulse quickened, but Manon didn’t seem to notice. She wandered into the living room, looking around as if trying to spot something.
“Have you changed anything in here?” she asked. “It feels different.”
Rody swallowed hard. “No, not really. Maybe it’s just, uh, tidier than usual?”
Manon raised an eyebrow, smirking. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”
She continued to look around, her eyes scanning the room. Then, they landed on the corner where the bot was hidden. Her expression shifted from playful to curious.
“What’s under the blanket?” she asked, taking a step closer.
Rody’s heart nearly stopped. He scrambled to come up with an excuse, anything that might explain it away.
“It’s, uh, just… something I’m working on,” he said, lamely.
Manon gave him a skeptical look. “Really? You’re not exactly known for your hobbies.”
She reached out to pull the blanket off, and Rody’s hand shot out to stop her, but it was too late. The blanket slipped away, revealing the bot underneath, still and lifelike.
Manon froze, her eyes widening in shock as she took in the sight. “What… What is this?”
Rody opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. The bot was too perfectly Vincent-the face, the hair, the clothes, all of it was unmistakable. Manon’s expression changed, from shock to confusion to something darker, something hurt.
“Rody…?” she whispered, her voice trembling. “What is this?”
Rody’s throat felt tight, his thoughts a jumbled mess. He couldn’t find the right words, couldn’t explain what this was, why it was here.
“I-I didn’t ask for this,” Rody stammered. “It’s… It’s from my mother.”
“Your mother?” Manon’s voice was incredulous. “Why would she send you… *this*?”
Rody ran a hand through his hair, frustration and fear bubbling up inside him. “She… She thinks I haven’t moved on. From Vincent.”
Manon took a step back, her eyes never leaving the bot. “And have you?”
The question hung in the air, heavy with implications. Rody didn’t know how to answer. He had moved on, hadn’t he? He had built a life with Manon, had tried to leave the past behind. But now, with the bot in front of him, it felt like all the progress he had made was slipping away.
“I… I don’t know,” Rody admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
Manon’s face crumpled with a mix of hurt and disbelief. “You don’t know?”
Rody reached out to her, but she pulled away, her expression hardening. “I can’t believe this,” she said, shaking her head. “I can’t believe you’d keep something like this… something like *him* in your home.”
“It’s not what you think,” Rody pleaded. “I didn’t want this. I didn’t ask for it. I was trying to figure out what to do.”
Manon looked at him, her eyes filled with a mix of anger and sadness. “What to do? Rody, you should have sent it back the moment you saw it. But you didn’t. And that tells me everything I need to know.”
Rody felt a pang of desperation. “Manon, please. This isn’t… It doesn’t change anything between us.”
But Manon shook her head. “It changes everything, Rody. How am I supposed to believe that you’re committed to us when you’re holding onto something like this? When you’re holding onto *him*?”
Tears welled up in her eyes, and Rody felt his heart break. “I love you,” he said, his voice cracking. “I swear I do.”
Manon blinked back tears, her expression softening just slightly. “Then prove it,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Get rid of it. Send it back. Show me that you’re ready to move on.”
Rody looked at the bot, still sitting silently, unaware of the turmoil it was causing. Could he do it? Could he send it back, cut ties with the past once and for all? And if he did, would it really fix things between him and Manon?
But as he looked back at her, saw the hurt in her eyes, he knew he had to try. He couldn’t let the past ruin what he had now. He couldn’t let Vincent’s memory keep haunting him.
“I’ll do it,” Rody said, his voice filled with resolve. “I’ll send it back. I’ll get rid of it.”
Manon nodded, wiping her eyes. “Thank you,” she said, her voice still shaky. “I know this isn’t easy, but it’s the right thing to do.”
Rody walked over to the bot, his heart heavy with the decision he was about to make. He had to let go, for Manon, for their future. He reached for the bot’s power switch, hesitating for just a moment before flicking it off. The bot’s eyes opened, and it looked up at him, a small, sad smile on its face.
“Goodbye, Rody,” it said, its voice soft and full of warmth.
Rody felt a lump in his throat as the bot powered down, its eyes closing one final time. He stood there for a moment, staring at it, before turning away.
“It’s done,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.
Manon walked over to him, wrapping her arms around him in a comforting embrace. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I know this was hard, but I’m so proud of you.”
Rody held her close, but his mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. He had done the right thing, hadn’t he? He had chosen Manon, chosen the future. But why did it feel like he had just lost something all over again?
As they stood there, Rody couldn’t help but feel the ghost of Vincent’s presence still lingering in the room, in his heart. Moving on was never going to be as simple as powering off a machine, but it was a start. And maybe, with time, he could finally find peace with the choices he had made.
But for now, all he could do was hold onto Manon and hope that, somehow, they would find a way forward together.
Rody’s mother, Claudine, arrived unannounced later that week. It wasn’t uncommon for her to drop by unexpectedly, especially since she still had a spare key to his apartment. Rody had just gotten home from work, and he was already feeling exhausted-both physically and emotionally-after everything that had happened with Manon and the bot.
He was pouring himself a glass of water when he heard the front door open. The sound sent a jolt of anxiety through him; he hadn’t been expecting anyone, least of all his mother.
“Rody?” Claudine’s voice called out, chipper and light, as if she were arriving for a casual visit.
Rody sighed, setting down the glass and walking out to meet her. “Mom, what are you doing here?” he asked, trying to keep the tiredness out of his voice.
Claudine smiled warmly at him, but her eyes quickly darted past him, scanning the room. “I was in the neighborhood, thought I’d stop by and see how you’re doing,” she said, though it was clear that she was looking for something specific.
Her gaze landed on the bot, which was still sitting in the corner, powered down and covered with a blanket. Claudine’s face lit up as she hurried over, removing the blanket with a delicate touch, as if she were unveiling a priceless artifact.
“Oh, Rody,” she breathed, her voice filled with emotion. “There he is. Isn’t he just… perfect?”
Rody felt a knot of guilt tighten in his chest. He hadn’t mentioned to his mother that he’d powered the bot off, nor had he told her about the confrontation with Manon. He’d hoped to avoid this conversation entirely, but now, seeing the way she looked at the bot-so full of love and longing-he knew it was unavoidable.
“Mom…” Rody began cautiously, “I powered it off.”
Claudine froze, her hand hovering over the bot’s face. Slowly, she turned to look at Rody, her expression a mix of confusion and disbelief.
“What do you mean, you powered it off?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly.
“I…I can’t keep it, Mom,” Rody said, trying to explain without setting off her emotions. “It’s just… it’s too much. It looks like Vincent, sounds like him, but it’s not him. It’s just… not right.”
Claudine’s eyes widened, her face contorting in shock and hurt. “How could you say that?” she demanded, her voice rising. “This is Vincent! This is what you needed! What we all needed! How could you just… just *power him off* like that?”
Rody took a step back, startled by the intensity of her reaction. “Mom, it’s not really him. It’s just a bot-“
“*Just* a bot?” Claudine’s voice cracked as she cut him off. “Rody, this is Vincent. It’s as close as we’ll ever get to having him back. How could you do this to him? To me?”
Tears welled up in her eyes as she turned back to the bot, caressing its lifeless face. “It’s like you’re killing him all over again,” she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. “Do you have any idea what this feels like? Watching you turn your back on him? On everything we had?”
Rody’s heart ached at the sight of his mother breaking down in front of him. He had always known that she had loved Vincent like her own son, but he hadn’t realized just how deep that love went-how much she had invested in the idea of Vincent coming back, even if only in this artificial form.
“Mom, please,” Rody said softly, stepping closer. “I know you miss him. I do too. But this… this isn’t healthy. Holding onto the past like this… it’s not going to bring him back.”
Claudine shook her head, tears streaming down her face. “You don’t understand, Rody. You moved on. You found Manon. But what about me? What do I have left? Vincent was like a son to me, and now… now you’re just throwing him away like he never mattered.”
Rody felt a deep pang of guilt and sadness. He reached out to her, but she recoiled, her eyes filled with hurt and betrayal.
“He was supposed to be your future,” Claudine continued, her voice trembling. “You two were supposed to get married, have a life together. And now, you’re just… abandoning him. How could you do this, Rody? How could you?”
“Mom, I’m not abandoning him,” Rody said, his voice pleading. “I’m trying to move forward. For both of us. Vincent wouldn’t want us to be stuck like this. He’d want us to live, to find happiness.”
But Claudine wasn’t listening. She was too lost in her grief, too consumed by the pain of losing Vincent a second time. She clung to the bot, cradling it in her arms as if it were truly Vincent, as if she could bring him back through sheer force of will.
Rody watched helplessly, his heart breaking for her-and for himself. He knew that nothing he could say would change her mind, nothing he could do would ease the pain she was feeling. All he could do was stand there, feeling the weight of his mother’s grief and his own unresolved emotions.
“I’m sorry,” Rody whispered, more to himself than to her. “I’m so sorry.”
Claudine didn’t respond. She just sat there, holding the bot close, as if she were afraid that if she let go, she would lose Vincent all over again. And in that moment, Rody realized that no matter what he did, no matter how hard he tried to move on, the shadow of Vincent would always be there, hanging over him, over his family, over everything.
It wasn’t just a bot. It was a symbol of everything he had lost, everything he had tried to leave behind. And now, he wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to truly escape it.
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