With his back turned to me, I started to talk. Sometimes, finding the right words was easier without distracting eye contact.
“I’m sorry.” Speaking the words squeezed my throat shut, but nevertheless, I forced myself to continue. “I’m sorry I put your life in danger… and…” I swallowed hard. “…and that you had to walk in on me getting it on with your murderer, as if I were okay with what she did. I promise, I’m not.”
He didn’t immediately respond, which only made me feel more nervous. Instead, he waited for the tea to brew before slowly turning back toward me. I knew he wasn’t doing it on purpose, but sometimes, Joey needed time to gather his thoughts instead of blurting out the first thing that came to mind.
When he sat back down opposite me, putting the teapot on the table between us and popping open his beer, I forced myself to meet his gaze. He didn’t look angry or hurt, but rather thoughtful. Like he was trying to make sense of it as much as I was.
When he still said nothing, I continued my rambling. “There’s really no excuse for it. Well, I was stressed and horny, and she, well, she was like a forbidden fantasy come true. But that doesn’t make it okay.”
Joey shook his head, gesturing to the tea. Gratefully, I leaned down to choose a tea bag, letting my hair – lately, I wore it loose more often – fall along my face to cover my flushed cheeks.
“It’s not so much the inappropriate cunnilingus that bothers me,” he said finally, though he couldn’t help but grimace at the memory. “It’s that this has been going on for weeks, and you didn’t feel like you could share it with me. Especially since I never spared a detail about my own messy dating life.” His bright eyes zoned back in on me, and there it was – hurt.
I flinched at his words. My hands were slightly trembling when I carefully tore open the wrapper around the chamomile tea bag. “I mean, it’s not entirely the same,” I mumbled, keeping my eyes fixed on the tea. “Your dating life may have been messy, but at least you were dating humans. You know the stigma, don’t you? Even people who engage with bots themselves look down on botfuckers when they get attached to their bots.” I swallowed hard. “What was I supposed to say? That I struggled so much to connect to a human, I turned to a bot instead?”
He blinked slowly. “Did you think I would’ve judged you for it?”
“Wouldn’t you?” I scoffed, but not at him. Still, despite everything, I judged myself.
He didn’t answer. Instead, he let the question linger in the air between us as he took a big sip from his beer.
I sighed.
As he shifted in his seat, the scarf around his neck slipped off, revealing black and blue bruises from where Raphael’s hands had attempted to strangle him to death. I froze at the sight, nausea rising up from my stomach.
Joey didn’t seem to notice. “Maybe I would’ve, at first,” he said finally, a frown forming on his round face.
“See?” I intertwined my fingers so violently, a sharp pain tingled through them. “Even you think there’s something wrong with me.”
“You didn’t let me finish. I said: maybe at first, yes. But I’m capable of reflecting on things and opening my mind, okay?” For a moment, he looked annoyed – as if he was insulted and not me. “It’s not you there’s something wrong with, Morgan. I need you to get this into your head, once and for all. I don’t blame you for turning to a bot. I blame our society for creating a world where it’s so damn hard to find connection, especially if you’re a bit different than everyone else, that people turn to bots just to feel loved.” He spat out the last words. “Of course,greedy corporations would find ways to profit off our loneliness. We live in a world that conditions us to think everything can be bought, so no one is willing to work for anything anymore. Of course, that feels fucking isolating. Of course, we will turn to the illusion if reality leaves us empty and unfulfilled.”
I quickly lowered my head. Unexpected tears stung behind my eyelids.
Joey’s gaze softened. “You’re not the problem, Morgan,” he said quietly. “Our society is.”
I could only nod, tears clouding my vision. My hands trembled slightly when I brought the mug to my lips, realizing too late that the hot substance burned my lips.
My eyes darted to the awful bruises on his neck. Joey caught me staring and glanced up to see his reflection in the wall mirror. To my relief, he quickly adjusted the scarf, but I shouldn’t look away – not when it was my girlfriend who did that to him.
“So you’re not mad at me?” My long hair fell in front of my face, and my hands twitched. To resist the urge to start twirling it, I started fumbling with the hair tie around my wrist instead.
“No,” he said after a pause. “Not anymore. But I hope you won’t feel like you have to hide things like this from me again. That’s literally what best friends are for.”
He smiled at me. I flashed one back, wide and wholehearted.
I flinched at a loud noise at the door.
Joey and I jumped up at the same time, our heads turned to see Zafyra stand in the doorframe.
I screamed.
Chapter 31.
“Zafyra!” My scream echoed through the apartment – loud enough to startle even me. “What the fuck happened to you?!”
Seeing Zafyra like this was disorienting – surreal, almost. Though she seemed physically unharmed, she slumped against the doorframe, her usual sharp eyes now glassy and unfocused, limbs twitching as if she were having a seizure. Her mouth opened in a twitchy stutter, jaw clicking once, then again – as if she tried to say something but couldn’t get the words out. A static-like click echoed from the back of her throat – mechanical, unnatural. Her whole body trembled in irregular bursts, like some invisible current was misfiring through her core.
“What the….” Joey looked from one to the other, perplexed. “How the fuck did you get into my house?”
