“It’s actually good.” She laughs, her voice filled with disbelief and delight. “I can’t believe I made this.”
I can’t help but feel a surge of pride. “Good job. I’m proud of you, Amelia.”
Her cheeks flush with a pink hue, and she ducks her head, a shy grin playing on her lips. “Thanks, Jamie,” she murmurs, taking another bite of her food, this time with more confidence.
This is getting ridiculous, but God, I can’t seem to get the vision out of my head of her on her knees in front of me, sucking my cock while I praise her, telling her I’m proud of her while caressing her cheek, which would undoubtedly blush the way it did just now.
Sitting back in my chair, I let out a quiet groan.
I can see Misha eyeing me in my peripheral vision, but I shake my head.
Seeing her this content and at ease, so different from what she looked like yesterday evening, I make a mental note to ensure she can keep Jamie. He seems to provide her something she is lacking.
And it’s the least we can do for someone who’s brought a little more humanity into our project.
EIGHT
Sunday rollsaround with the kind of lazy ease that usually escapes me, given my tendency to mull over my AR work rather than engage in actual activities. But today feels different, almost leisurely, as I tidy up my apartment while chatting away with Jamie about trivial things like music and the culinary experiments from yesterday.
I would have never thought I would be able to make something so delicious myself. And it was fun.
This weekend with us all together has been more fun than I’ve had in years. I can’t remember the last time I talked that much.
That’s kind of sad, isn’t it?
But as I adjust a stack of books back onto the shelf, the same thought I had yesterday niggles at me once more.
It’s all one-sided.
The interaction, while impressive in its responsiveness, lacks a genuine give-and-take. Jamie can draw from an infinite pool of data to chat about anything under the sun, but it’s all output, no input.
This is something for the report I’m going to write down later—Jamie might benefit from a simulated personality, somethingto make these exchanges feel more balanced. But in all honesty, this is complaining at a high level.
There’s no doubt about it, this AI is a marvel. It’s going to make waves once it hits the market, and honestly, the hype will be well-deserved.
Everyone will want to have a piece of this—and them.
There is no denying that in the couple of days since I started testing Jamie, I’ve deduced that I prefer his simple companionship to being alone, which means I’ll likely be getting myself a Jamie too.
The rest of my cleanup passes in a blur, and I find myself in front of my laptop, checking my emails, but there’s still no answer from August, and concern creeps in. It’s been over a month with no word from him, which isn’t like him at all. Sure, he takes longer to reply if he’s busy, but neverthatlong.
I know nothing has happened to him. I would have heard about it. But just the thought that I’ve been far away for long enough that he maybe has forgotten about me…
Swallowing my pride, I type out a message filled with typical sisterly nagging, urging him to drop me a message, anything to confirm he’s still alive. But sending it off does little to ease the worry that’s started to gnaw at me.
It’s not the feeling that I have nobody.
It’s the feeling that nobody has me.
I can’t even put it into words, but I can feel it.
To distract myself, I put on my white workout set, consisting of leggings, a sports bra, and a T-shirt, and grab my laundry. The convenience of having a washing service and a gym under the same roof is one of the luxuries of living here that I actually appreciate. It means no trekking out with armfuls of clothes or dodging rain to get a bit of exercise.
It’s not like I’m a sporty person. I’mfarfrom it. But if I don’t move my body from time to time, I feel myself getting weaker. And what does a great mind do with a weak body?
Nothing.
Back in London, the weekly hikes with August and his family were enough to keep me somewhat in shape. Now, the treadmill has to suffice.
