"Julian."
"I'm not some practice model you used to get it right."
"And I'm certainly not a stand-in you kept around to make up for what you owed Althea."
I'd seen Julian's passion now. I'd seen how clumsy and raw he'd been with Althea. And finally, I understood. He and I had been a mistake from the very beginning.
"I've said what I have to say."
"Divorce."
"This isn't a discussion. It's a notification."
"Julian." I pulled another copy of the agreement from the table. "I have plenty of these. However many you need, I've got them."
"So?"
"Still want to tear them up?"
Julian stared at the divorce papers in my hand, frozen. Then, suddenly, he laughed.
"Bridget."
He laughed until tears streamed down his face, but the words still came.
"You're going to regret this!"
"Bridget!"
"You'll regret it!"
He slammed his shoulder into mine as he shoved past, storming out. The front door crashed shut hard enough to rattle the walls. I stood there, surveying the wreckage scattered across the floor, and found myself laughing too.
Seven years.
I'd been someone else's shadow for seven years.
And I'd been proud of it. Congratulating myself on how lucky I was.
How could that not be funny?
"So," Naomi Prescott said, her face creased with worry. "You're getting a divorce because of an AI animation?"
She leaned forward.
"Every man has a past. Even if he does, that's not grounds for a death sentence."
"Bridget, have you really thought this through?"
"Mm." I stirred the coffee in my cup and looked at Naomi. "I've thought it through."
When I got home from the café, there was a pair of heels in the entryway that didn't belong to me.
"So you're Bridget Chavez."
I froze. Althea Dickerson stood right in front of me, holding a plate of cherries and popping them into her mouth like she owned the place.
"Julian told me everything."
"You're throwing a fit over a divorce because of some AI animation?"
Althea sat down in one of the chairs, watching me with an amused smile.
"Bridget, are you out of your mind?"
I listened as she went on, her voice dripping with mockery. "I'm the one who trained Julian into the man he is today. You got him gift-wrapped, and instead of being grateful, you pull this?"
"You're going to blow things up over this?"
"What," she said, her tone turning contemptuous, "I spent years of my youth with Julian. Doesn't that earn him making one little animation for me?"
"Forget one animation. Whatever I want, Julian owes it to me."
"Because," she plucked another cherry from the plate and popped it into her mouth, "he's in my debt."
"Want to know why?"
She waited for me to ask.
I didn't. I slipped on my shoes, walked past her, and paused just long enough to say one thing.
"Take your trash with you when you leave."
My voice stayed perfectly level, as if the woman in front of me wasn't the first love Julian had once been crazy enough to lose his mind over. Just a stranger.
"I don't like my home getting dirty."
"And," I turned to look at her, "if you really want him that badly, get Julian to sign the papers. Don't come here putting on a show for me."
I moved past Althea to leave, but I heard a commotion at the entryway. Before I could react, she was on her feet, grabbing my arm. She shoved me. I watched as Althea hit the ground instead, cherries scattering everywhere across the floor.
Then, just like that, the tears came.
"It's just an AI!"
"Even if Julian made a mistake, that's not my fault!"
"What gives you the right to scream at me? To put your hands on me?!"
I stood there, watching Althea cry until her face was a picture of wounded innocence. Then she turned toward the figure still standing in the entryway and screamed.
"Julian!"
"Seven years ago!"
"I had an abortion for you! I lost the ability to ever have children because of you!"
