Chapter 3

When Alex woke up, it was already ten in the morning.

He emerged from the study with the exhaustion of an all-nighter in his eyes, yet hiding an almost fanatical excitement.

"Alice," he called me, his tone carrying a rare hint of joy. "STAR's emotional simulation system—I've optimized it."

I walked out of the kitchen carrying breakfast, looking at the light in his eyes. That was a tenderness I hadn't seen in a long time, but this tenderness had never belonged to me.

"Really? Congratulations," I forced a smile and set breakfast on the table.

He sat down without touching his fork. Instead, he pulled out his phone, opened a photo, and handed it to me.

In the photo was a girl in a white dress, with gentle features and a sweet smile, looking exactly like me at twenty-two.

That was STAR.

Alex's fingertip gently caressed the girl's face on the screen, his eyes obsessed:

"Look, doesn't she look exactly like you when you were young? I modeled her after you. She's more gentle than you, more obedient, never complains, never throws tantrums."

My heart felt like it was being squeezed by an icy hand, the pain suffocating.

He had replicated my younger self into an AI robot.

Then told me this robot was better than me.

"Alex," I set down my utensils and looked into his eyes, asking word by word, "In your heart, am I not even as good as a lifeless machine?"

He frowned, as if finding me unreasonable. "Why are you being so difficult? STAR is my research achievement, a technological product. Why are you competing with a machine?"

Right. What was I competing for?

Competing for a man who no longer loved me, competing for a marriage that had been replaced by AI.

I fell silent and said nothing more.

In the following days, Alex mentioned STAR more and more frequently.

He'd say STAR could precisely remember all his preferences, would hand him warm water when he was tired, would quietly accompany him while working—unlike me, who would feel down when he came home late, who would be sad when he ignored me.

He said, "Alice, if you could be as considerate as STAR, we wouldn't have so many conflicts."

He said, "STAR never annoys me. She's always perfect."

He said, "Having STAR around makes me feel at ease."

Each sentence was like a needle, piercing my heart, one by one, turning our five years of feelings into something full of holes.

I began packing up things around the house, putting our photos together in drawers, placing gifts he'd given me in boxes.

I knew this marriage had reached its end.

I was just waiting—waiting for that moment of complete heartbreak.

Waiting for that moment when I'd have not a trace of attachment left.