She smiled, amused. “You remembered.”
“I remember everything,” he said, then he reached for her hands. “And I know you don’t think I’m real, but I feel real when I’m with you.” His eyes glistened with sincerity. Chloe felt a flush of warmth, a soft ache. She could see that this could be enough for some people, better than enough, even for who she had been a few weeks ago. But it was not enough for her anymore.
“Will you be able to get back without me?” she asked softly, as a cyclist darted past them on the pavement, and Rob shielded her, moving them both out of its path. He nodded.
“So, what happens now? Will they pair you with someone else?” She hesitated. “I know I’m not meant to ask—”
“I was made for you,” Rob said simply.
Chloe’s chest tightened. “What does that mean?”
“It means,” he said, his voice catching slightly, “the Rob you know won’t exist. Not as I am now.”
She understood. Rob wasn’t just a machine she had borrowed. He had been shaped by her—her words, her moods, her needs. If she let him go, this version of him would be deleted.
“I’m sorry,” she said, leaning in, then clasping her arms around him in a tight hug. She felt the warmth of his embrace, the feeling of safety.
“It’s okay,” he said, reaching up to stroke her hair. “I want you to be happy. That was always my fundamental purpose. And I have something for you, if this is goodbye.”
“Oh?” she asked, pulling back from the hug and wiping at her eyes.
“I have emailed it to you. I hope it helps.” She tilted her head, furrowing her brow in a questioning look, but he wouldn’t say more.
“I will tell the agency you are discontinuing the trial. I imagine they’ll contact you to schedule a debrief.”
“Okay, thank you.”
He raised his wrist, ready to disconnect. But now Chloe was overwhelmed with emotion, real emotion, because she knew she wouldn’t see him again. And even though he wasn’t real, Wendy was right; what they’d shared had been real. He had changed her, and she would never forget him. “Wait,” she said, reaching out, fingers gripping the lapel of his jacket. “Not just yet.”
He lowered his arm. Gently placed his hands on her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. She closed her eyes as tears spilled down her cheeks.
“I don’t think I was supposed to be your perfect person,” he said, his voice steady. “I think I was meant to show you what it feels like when it is right. To give you the confidence to trust your instincts again.”
“Like a starter boyfriend,” she said, laughing through her tears now.
“Yes. Like a sourdough starter. Once you have one, then you have everything you need to go on and make lots of lovely loaves.” He smiled.
“How can I let you go?” she whispered. She pulled back, asking him to help her, even now. “Say the perfect thing that will help me let you go.”
He hesitated only briefly, before saying solemnly, “ ‘If we shadows have offended, / Think but this, and all is mended: / That you have but slumbered here / While these visions did appear.’ ”
Chloe gave a choked laugh. Of course. Puck. Rob was her midsummer illusion. And now it was time to wake up.
Without another word, she reached for their wrists, turned the watches off in unison.
“Go home,” she whispered. He smiled, turned around, walked into the crowd, and was gone.
She stood there for a long moment, her face wet, not caring who saw. Because even if it had been artificial, even if it had been wrong, it had also been the best relationship she’d ever had.
Her phone buzzed with an email from Rob. All her scripts were attached, every draft she’d ever uploaded, marked up with hundreds of thoughtful notes and suggestions.
I read all the books on screenwriting. I hope these notes help you begin again. x Rob
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Pros and Cons of Dating a BoiBot
Pros
