My husband, Kenneth Garza, is a bionic robot engineer.

Yesterday, he brought home a female robot. When I slipped in the bathroom and blood started cascading down my legs, he completely ignored me. Instead, he frantically picked up the equally soaked robot, muttering, "Robots can't touch water, or they'll completely break down. I must take her to the lab for a check-up immediately!" Without a backward glance, he left.

The next day, I discovered an old diary under the bed in our bedroom. On the cover was an intimate photo of Kenneth with a woman I'd never seen before, but she looked exactly like the robot he brought home. It turns out she was his first love, the one he'd never forgotten, Hope Meyer. Closing the diary, I calmly dialed a number. "Professor Hall, I've made up my mind. In three days, I'll move to Belfast and officially join your team."

"Wade, that's fantastic news! Looking forward to having you onboard!" As soon as the call ended, the door opened; Kenneth was back. His brows were slightly furrowed, and his eyes were glued to his phone. The black shirt he wore was the same as yesterday, proof that he hadn't come home last night. He looked up, catching a glimpse of me.

"Why do you look so pale?" I mentioned that I hadn't slept well last night. He barely acknowledged it, still engrossed in his screen. Keeping my head down, I swallowed the heartache. I knew he was just like before, never taking my words seriously.

Instead of confronting him or questioning his whereabouts, I went to the kitchen and made myself a cup of coffee and a small piece of spiced honey cake. Kenneth, out of habit, came to the dining table but noticed I hadn't prepared his share like usual. Finally, his gaze shifted from his phone to me.

"Monica, I've checked your schedule. You lost that much blood because of your cycle; just rest a few days and you'll be fine. But if a robot gets soaked significantly, it could be permanently damaged. You wouldn’t want my years of research to be ruined, would you?"

Holding my fork, my heart twisted painfully. Yesterday, when I slipped in the bathroom and hit my belly, I was bleeding heavily. At the hospital, I was told I was a month pregnant, and the fall caused a miscarriage. The doctor said that if I'd been brought in sooner, maybe the baby could have been saved. Yet, while I lay on the floor, pleading for him to take me to the hospital, Kenneth didn't even look at me. Instead, he hurriedly held the soaked robot close and left without another word. In all our years of marriage, I'd never seen him so anxious. Unfortunately, it wasn't for me.

Seeing I wasn't responding and instead lost in thought, Kenneth's brows furrowed as he was about to speak. Just then, his phone rang. Right in front of me, he answered the video call; the robot's playful face popped up.

"Kenny, I’m completely recovered now! I order you to pick me up immediately, or I'll be really mad!" She stuck out her tongue with a cheeky grin. Kenneth looked at her with an indulgent expression, his eyes filled with a gentleness that seemed out of place. He patiently reassured her, explaining that a part still needed fixing and he couldn’t bring her home yet. It wasn’t until my coffee was nearly finished that they ended their call.

As if realizing I had been present the entire time, Kenneth's demeanor shifted slightly, but only for a moment before returning to his usual self. After a brief silence, he spoke calmly.

"This model of the female robot is designed this way. It’s meant to appeal to a male market, so don’t take it to heart." With that, he left, claiming he had to check on something in the lab. Once he was gone, tears fell from my eyes unexpectedly. After a while, I let out a bitter laugh at myself.

What am I still expecting from Kenneth? Clearly, in his heart, I’m not even as important as a robot. I took out my phone and booked a ticket to Belfast for three days later. Not long after, Kenneth returned. He had a dog with him. He said the robot wanted a pet, and it was the perfect opportunity to test it.

I paused, unable to hold back my question. "We've been married eight years, and you still don’t know I’m allergic to dog fur?" Kenneth's face immediately turned cold.

"Monica, stop making a fuss. Are you really jealous of a robot?" I bit my lip and walked into the bedroom, retrieving the diary.

"You say this robot is the result of years of your research, but why does she look exactly like your first love? Aren’t you going to explain, Kenneth?"

Seeing the diary in my hand, a flicker of guilt crossed Kenneth's eyes. After a moment, he let out a soft sigh.

"So you're upset because of this. Hope... she's gone. Making a robot in her likeness was her last wish. It's not what you're thinking."

I kept my head down, silent, so Kenneth suggested we go see a movie. He mentioned there was a new comedy he thought I'd enjoy.

I smirked inwardly. I don't like comedies and have never watched one. Hope must have been the one who enjoyed them. His diary mentioned they used to watch comedies together often. The thought tugged painfully at my heart.

When I snapped back to reality, all I saw was Kenneth's retreating back. "Something came up at work. I'll take you tomorrow," he said hurriedly as he closed the door behind him.

An hour later, I arrived at Kenneth's office with a lunch box. His mother had given it to the housekeeper, Benson, to ensure Kenneth ate properly. Since he had been kind to me once, I agreed to help.

I handed the food to the receptionist and turned to leave, but overheard some employees whispering around the corner.

"Did you hear? Mr. Garza made a robot that looks just like his first love," one said.

"No wonder he treats it so well. Just recently, a colleague touched its face out of curiosity, and the robot went straight to Mr. Garza to complain. He fired the guy immediately," another replied.

"That's nothing. Mr. Garza actually carried the robot into his office for everyone to see. It's creepy. Do you think he treats it as if it were his old flame?"

I felt a shiver run through me, and after a moment, I picked up the lunch box again and walked directly to Kenneth's office.

When I opened the door, there was the robot, sitting closely on Kenneth's lap, feeding him grapes. Seeing me, his smile faltered.

"Monica, why didn't you say you were coming?" he blurted out. "Don't misunderstand, I was just—"

I placed the lunch box on his desk, nodding. "I know. You were just testing her functions." Perhaps I sounded too calm, as Kenneth's brows furrowed.

He opened his mouth as if to say something, but the robot suddenly clung to his neck, whining, "Kenneth, your wife is here, and you ignore me. You're terrible!" Kenneth immediately directed his attention back to her, soothing her gently.

I watched her closely, noting how lifelike her gestures, tone, and expressions were. When Kenneth brought her home, she hadn't been activated, so I hadn't noticed anything amiss. And now he had even named her Hope.

I had no interest in watching their closeness, so I turned to leave. I hadn't reached the door before someone grabbed my wrist.

I turned back, puzzled, as Kenneth handed me a lipstick. "This is for you. Please, take it." I stood there, taken aback. Last year, I had asked him for a lipstick because of the overwhelming advertisements. Back then, Kenneth had coldly refused.

"Monica, look at yourself. At your age, you look worn out. Why would you try to act like a young girl with lipstick?"

Seeing my hesitation, Kenneth lightly frowned. "I remember you said you liked this brand."

I replied indifferently, "Yes, I like the brand, but not this shade."

After a moment, Kenneth took back the lipstick, looking slightly displeased. "If you don't like it, it's fine. I'll take care of some work, and we can go home together later."

Not long after Kenneth left, the robot approached me.

She crossed her arms, looking down at me. "You didn't really think that lipstick was bought especially for you, did you?" She turned to retrieve a bag from a cabinet, showing it to me. "I told Kenneth I wanted lipsticks from this brand, and he bought every shade for me." She paused, then added, "The one he gave you was the only shade I didn't like."

I went home. I didn't wait for Kenneth. As I was packing my personal belongings, Kenneth called.

"You went back? Why didn't you wait for me?" he asked.

I gave a casual excuse, "Something came up, so I headed back early."

There was a pause on the other end, followed by Kenneth's voice, slightly irritated, "Is this because I brought a dog home earlier? Are you throwing a fit over that?"

I held the phone, about to explain, but Kenneth scoffed, "If you want to be difficult, go ahead. Monica, don't expect me to cater to you anymore."

Hearing the call end, I was surprisingly calm.

Nine years ago, I fell into a lake by accident. Kenneth happened to be passing by and saved me without hesitation. His gentle voice whispered, "Don't close your eyes. An ambulance is on the way."

I survived, but Kenneth ended up in the hospital for two weeks. That was when I hopelessly fell in love with him. I pursued him relentlessly for a year, but he never showed any sign of reciprocation.

Just when I was about to give up, he showed up with a diamond ring, saying he didn't love me, but needed someone to marry. If I was willing, we could get the license the next day.

How could I refuse? I thought that even if he didn't love me then, we had a lifetime ahead of us. So, I gave my all to him after we got married.

For eight years, whenever we had a fight or he gave me the cold shoulder, it was always me who made amends. In front of him, I was always so humble.

I thought I could warm his heart. Whether it took five years, ten, or twenty, I believed it would happen eventually. But now, I no longer want to wait.