7
Noticing the confusion on my face, Mr. Lewis gave me a bittersweet smile before sharing his story.
“At first, I thought robots should focus on being practical. Their primary purpose, I believed, was to serve people and make life easier. Those ‘fun‘ or ‘frivolous‘ features? I thought they were completely unnecessary.”
“But that all changed,” his voice wavered, “after my son took his own life because of depression.”
I stared at him, stunned. His son, who was just a few years older than Max, should have been enjoying his college years, full of dreams and excitement. Instead, he had chosen to end his life far too early.
“It’s my fault,” he continued, his voice heavy with regret. “His mother passed away when he was young, and I buried myself in work. I barely paid attention to him. When we did talk, all I ever asked about were his grades.”
Tears welled up in his eyes as he crouched down, wiping them away with trembling hands.
“One day, I found his grades had dropped significantly. In my frustration, I searched his room and found a bunch of toys hidden away. I was so angry–I thought they were the reason for his falling grades. So, I smashed them all.” His voice cracked. “To me, they were nothing more than distractions… the enemy of success.”
The next day, his son jumped from their apartment building.
The weight of his words made my chest tighten. I wanted to say something–anything–to comfort him. But no words felt adequate. Instead, I resolved to work even harder, to create toys that brought joy to people, as if that would somehow ease his pain.
After a week at the company, I’d already settled in. The work was fulfilling, my colleagues were kind, and for the first time in years, I felt like my life had meaning again.
11:43 Fri, Jan 31 BB.
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During this time, I completely ignored my family.
At first, Tom and Max seemed determined to prove their independence by refusing to contact me. But it didn’t take long for them to crack.
“Lauren,” Tom’s voice pleaded over the phone. “If you’ve got some time off, can you come home? Max and I have been living off takeout, and we’re both so sick of it. We miss your
cooking.”
“Learn to cook yourselves. It’s not that hard,” I replied flatly.
Tom stuttered, clearly trying to keep his tone conciliatory. “I know you’re still upset about Rachel. Ladmit, Max and I were wrong. We shouldn’t have left you alone on your birthday. If it helps, I promise we won’t see her anymore. Just… stop being mad, okay?”
“I already told you, I’m not mad,” I said curtly. I don’t care what kind of relationship you have with Rachel. There’s no need to waste your breath on this. I’m busy. If there’s nothing
else, I’m hanging up.”
“Wait!” His voice grew louder, more frantic. “Why are you being like this? I’ve already
apologized! What else do you want from me? Do I have to get on my knees and beg before
you’ll let this go?”
His tone was raw, almost feral–a sharp contrast to the calm, composed way he’d always spoken when I was the one losing my temper.
This was how he used to manipulate me. Whenever I got angry, he’d play the victim, acting like I was the unreasonable one. He’d push me to the edge, and when I finally snapped, he’d act like the wounded party, painting himself as the poor husband enduring
his wife’s “emotional abuse.”
But now? The roles had reversed.
I allowed myself a small, triumphant smile before repeating the words he had so often thrown at me:
“If you really can’t handle this anymore, then let’s get a divorce.”
“What did you just say?” His voice shook with disbelief, as if I’d just proposed the
C
<
“Why are you so surprised?” I asked coolly. “Isn’t this what you’ve been wanting all along?”
On a whim, I searched through our message history. Typing “divorce” into the search bar, I was stunned to find nearly a hundred messages containing the word–all sent by him.
I took a screenshot and sent it to him.
For a moment, there was only silence on the other end of the line. Then, his voice erupted in rage, a chaotic mix of anger and desperation.
“I’m not agreeing to a divorce! I refuse to divorce you!”
And just like that, he slammed the phone down.
