Chapter 12: Recreating Their Wedding Dance
The sun had set hours ago, leaving the world outside the safe house shrouded in darkness. The room was dimly lit, casting soft shadows on the walls as Miguel sat on the edge of the bed, his hands resting on his knees. The air was thick with an unspoken tension, a heavy silence that had settled between him and Robo-Aubree.
Robo-Aubree, a nearly perfect replica of his wife, stood a few feet away, her synthetic skin glowing faintly in the low light. Her eyes, though artificial, held a depth that mirrored the woman he loved, the woman who now lay comatose in a remote hospital, far from the life they once shared.
Miguel’s thoughts were a tangled mess, his emotions swirling in a chaotic storm. He had tried to convince himself that this version of Aubree, this robotic facsimile, was just a machine. But every time he looked at her, he saw his wife, the way she smiled, the way she moved, the way she looked at him with the same love and affection he had known for years.
“Miguel,” Robo-Aubree’s voice broke the silence, soft and gentle, yet with a slight mechanical undertone.
“You’ve been distant lately. Is there something on your mind?”
Miguel looked up, meeting her gaze. He knew the question was more than just a routine check; it was a reflection of the complex thoughts that had been plaguing him since the day Isaac had brought her to life. How could he reconcile his feelings for this robotic version of his wife with the woman he had vowed to love, honor, and cherish?
“It’s nothing,” he lied, forcing a smile. But Robo-Aubree saw through it, just as Aubree would have.
“Miguel,” she said, taking a step closer, “you don’t have to hide anything from me. I’m here to help you, to support you… just like I always have.”
The sincerity in her voice, so similar to the real Aubree’s, tugged at Miguel’s heart. He turned away, his eyes landing on an old photo frame on the nightstand. It was a picture from their wedding day, the happiest day of their lives. The memory of their first dance, the way they had swayed to the music, lost in each other’s eyes, filled his mind.
Without thinking, he stood up and walked over to the small stereo in the corner of the room. He rifled through a stack of CDs until he found the one he was looking for a compilation of songs from their wedding. He slipped it into the player, and a soft, melodic tune began to fill the room.
Robo-Aubree tilted her head, recognizing the song immediately.
“This is our wedding song,” she said, her voice laced with a hint of surprise.
Miguel turned to face her, a wistful smile playing on his lips.
“Do you remember our first dance?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Robo-Aubree’s eyes softened, and she nodded.
“Of course I do. I remember every detail, every step.” She paused, searching his face for the reason behind his sudden nostalgia. “Why are you asking?”
“Because…” Miguel hesitated, unsure of how to articulate the complex emotions swirling inside him. He took a deep breath, then finally said, “Because I want to recreate it—with you.”
Robo-Aubree’s expression softened even more, and for a moment, she looked exactly like the woman he had married, full of love and understanding.
“I’d love to,” she replied, extending her hand toward him.
Miguel took her hand, noting the warmth of her synthetic skin, how lifelike it felt. As they moved to the center of the room, the music swelled around them, enveloping them in a cocoon of familiarity and nostalgia.
He placed his hand on her waist, just as he had on their wedding day, and she rested her hand on his shoulder. They began to move in time with the music, their steps fluid and in perfect harmony. It was as if no time had passed at all, as if the years of hardship and heartache had melted away, leaving only this moment of pure connection.
As they danced, Miguel couldn’t help but be overwhelmed by the memories flooding back. He remembered the way Aubree had looked at him on their wedding day, her eyes shining with tears of joy. He remembered the way she had whispered
“I love you” in his ear as they swayed together, lost in their own world.
And now, as he looked into Robo-Aubree’s eyes, he saw that same love reflected back at him. It was uncanny, almost unsettling, how perfectly she had captured the essence of the woman he had married.
But as they continued to dance, a nagging doubt crept into his mind. Was this really Aubree? Or was it just a carefully programmed imitation, designed to mimic the emotions and memories of the woman he loved?
“Robo-Aubree,” he began, his voice faltering as he searched for the right words.
“I need to know… Are you really her? Are you really the woman I married?”
Robo-Aubree slowed their dance, her eyes searching his with a mix of empathy and understanding. She knew this question had been weighing on him, and she was prepared to give him the answer he needed.
“Miguel,” she said softly, her voice steady and reassuring,
“I am Aubree. The memories, the feelings, the love they’re all real. They’re a part of me, just as they were a part of the woman lying in that hospital bed.”
Miguel’s grip on her tightened as he tried to make sense of it all. “But you’re a robot,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “How can you be the same person?”
“I understand why it’s hard for you to accept,” Robo-Aubree replied gently. “But the essence of who I am, the memories we shared, the life we built together, it’s all still here, inside me. Isaac synced my memories with hers. The woman you married, the woman you loved, is still here… just in a different form.”
Miguel closed his eyes, his forehead resting against hers as they continued to sway to the music. He wanted to believe her, wanted to accept that this version of Aubree was just as real, just as capable of loving him as the woman lying comatose in the hospital.
But a part of him couldn’t shake the feeling that something fundamental had changed. He had loved Aubree for her humanity, for her imperfections, for the way she had stumbled over her words when she was nervous, for the way she had laughed too loud at his jokes. Could he really love this new version of her the same way?
“I don’t know if I can do this,” Miguel admitted, his voice choked with emotion.
“I don’t know if I can pretend that everything’s the same.”
Robo-Aubree cupped his face in her hands, her touch tender and full of understanding. “You don’t have to pretend, Miguel. I’m not asking you to forget about the woman you married. I’m not asking you to ignore the fact that I’m different now. But I am asking you to remember that the love we shared, the bond we had it hasn’t changed. It’s still here, in both of us.”
Miguel opened his eyes, looking deep into hers. He saw the love there, the same love he had seen on their wedding day, the same love that had carried them through so many challenges.
“I do love you,” Miguel whispered, his voice breaking.
“But I’m so confused. I feel like I’m betraying her by being with you, and at the same time, I feel guilty for not fully accepting you.”
Robo-Aubree smiled sadly, her thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped down his cheek. “I know this isn’t easy. I know you’re struggling. But please know that I’m here for you, just as I always have been. You don’t have to choose between us, Miguel. We’re the same, in the ways that matter most.”
Miguel’s heart ached as he listened to her words. Deep down, he knew she was right. The love they shared was real, regardless of the form it took. But that didn’t make the situation any less complicated, any less painful.
As the song came to an end, they slowed their dance, finally coming to a stop. They stood there, holding each other close, the weight of their shared memories and their uncertain future hanging heavily between them.
“Thank you,” Miguel murmured, his voice filled with a mixture of gratitude and sorrow. “For reminding me of what we had… what we still have.”
Robo-Aubree rested her head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. “We’ll get through this, Miguel. Together. Just like we always have.”
Miguel closed his eyes, letting the comfort of her presence wash over him. He didn’t have all the answers, and he wasn’t sure how he would navigate the complexities of loving both the woman he married and the robotic version of her standing before him.
But in that moment, as they held each other close, he realized that maybe, just maybe, love didn’t have to be so black and white. Maybe it could exist in the spaces between, in the overlap of memories and emotions, in the bond that had always connected them, no matter the form it took.
And as they stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, Miguel made a silent vow to himself: he would fight for that love, for the life they had built together, for the woman he loved both of them. Because in the end, that was what truly mattered.