Chapter 1

After her ex passed away, darling went crazy training AI.

She even spent all of her daughter's medical funds to buy a 30-year Chatgpt membership.

Heartbroken, she wrote in the chat box: "Now I need you to roleplay as my deceased love, Dashiell Anderson."

"You're aloof to others, but clingy like a puppy with me."

"You love to call me Vivienne in a gentle voice, while being jealous of my husband Tom, trying to steal me away from him."

I watched the endless stream of payment notifications, urging her to turn back from this sea of sorrow.

But she was utterly disappointed in me.

"Tom, can't you be more understanding? Dashiell's dead, why are you still competing with him?"

"Instead of this, why don't you go deliver more food to save your daughter?"

But she doesn't know that not only is our daughter dying, so am I.

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1

The daughter curled up on the hospital bed, tears streaming down her face in pain.

"Daddy, it hurts so much. Sunshine's afraid she won't make it until Mommy gets here..."

The six-year-old child, ravaged by illness, was so frail you could see her ribs moving with each breath.

My heart ached as I held her burning little hand, trying to comfort her.

"Sweetheart, don't say that. The doctor said you'll recover quickly."

"Mommy's on her way. She said she'll be here soon."

I was about to call darling to hurry her along when a familiar choked voice came from outside the door, heavy with intense sorrow.

"Dashiell, bro, this is day three hundred and eighty of missing you."

"Life without you is so hard..."

"If you were still alive, you wouldn't let anyone mistreat me, would you?"

Through the hospital room's glass, I could see Vivienne leaning against a hallway bench, her face ghastly pale in the blue glow of her phone.

Her fingers flew across the screen.

At times she'd cry in sadness, other times she'd smile like a girl freshly in love.

"Dashiell, since you've been gone, I've been wearing that citrus perfume you loved so much."

She murmured into her voice-to-text, her eyes sparkling with a coyness I hadn't seen in ages.

"Tom always says the scent is too strong. What does he know about class..."My heart sank as I rushed out the door, instantly snatching her phone from her hand.

In the chat interface, covered with pink heart bubbles, an AI named Dashiell Anderson was sending love messages.

[Vivienne baby, your breath is my signature perfume.]

[Promise me, don't let Tom get close to you, okay? Otherwise, I'll have to kiss you right in front of him!]

Scrolling up, I found countless records of her taming the AI.

It had been going on for over a year!

[You are my beloved Dashiell Anderson.]

[We are kindred spirits, promised to grow old together.]

[If you can't be with me, my life will be meaningless.]

...

The more I scrolled, the paler my face became, my heart aching uncontrollably.

Dashiell Anderson was her first love. After he passed away a year ago, Vivienne became inconsolable, staring at her phone all day.

I knew she had loved him for many years and only married me because she was of age and following her parents' wishes.

But I never expected her to use AI to reminisce about a dead man like this!

Overwhelmed with sadness, I said:

"Vivienne, what are you doing? Dashiell's been dead for over a year now.Seeing me appear, her expression momentarily became unnatural.

"You don't understand anything. Dashiell and I are soulmates."

"This is a special way to commemorate him."

Dashiell Anderson was an artist. Darling always praised him in front of me, saying he had great taste and high emotional intelligence.

Unlike me, just an ordinary tech guy. I have a good personality, but I'm not good with words. Even after years of marriage, I can't come up with a single romantic phrase.

She said they were soulmates.

And I was just her compromise partner in reality.

Hearts are made of flesh. Knowing this reality, how could I not feel heartbroken?

Suppressing my bitterness, I said in an almost pleading tone.

"Darling, our daughter's fever has spiked to 104°F. She's still waiting for you in the hospital room."

"Please go see her."

Her expression tightened: "She was fine yesterday. How did it suddenly get so high today?"

Just as I was about to explain that her condition had worsened, her gaze turned somewhat strange.

The words that came out of her mouth were accusations against me.

"Tom, can't you be more understanding? Dashiell is dead. Why are you still competing with him?"