m Carter, the tech genius whose innovations were changing the world. To the public, he was brilliant and reserved, but to me, he was t

my ear describing the glitter and the gold I couldn't see. They saw him cutting my food at dinner parties, a simple act of care that made other women s

nt, passionate dance that left me breathless and feeling cherished. Afterwards, he would carry me to the bathroom, the cool tile a shock against my heated skin, and he would personally, meticulously, clean me with a warm cloth. H

began their journey over my skin, firm, knowing, and practiced. I arched into his touch, my body responding to the familiar rhythm. My world was a tapestry of sensat

mething

lying to my temples. A kaleidoscope of colors exploded behind my eyelids, violent and overwhelming. It was a shock to a system t

ds flutt

me in half a dec

walls. My vision was blurry, like looking through a rain-streaked

at, a strangled, silent scr

sn't

ere was only a blank, seamless expanse of synthetic skin. It was a robot, a humanoid machine of terrifying perfection. Its movements were fluid, its touch was warm, bu

w intimately, echoed from

aise lounge near the window, was my husband. Liam. He was not alone. He was wrapped around a figure, his arms tight,

lifelike replica of a woman. Even in the dim light, I reco

arriage. Every night, every single intimate moment I had cherished, had been a lie. He had sent a machine to my bed, a

a million pieces. The love was never for me. The care, the tenderness, it was all for her, or rather, for his

oothed her hair, his fingers lingering on the synthetic cheek of the doll. He looked at it with a raw hunger, an adoration that made my stomach turn. He had no idea I was watching