When you finished putting in the last bit of codes and she came to life, you felt pride unlike ever before.

You spent two whole years researching everything you knew you would want in your perfect life partner. From her general appearance to the way she would feel in every scenario imaginable.

And once she opened her eyes and let out the sweet and cute yawn you always wanted to wake up to, her smile lit up the room.

She moved flawlessly. Each step was measured but in a way that never betrayed her true nature. Her skin was soft to the touch but with enough texture to never feel too smooth. Her voice was an amalgamation of all your favourite actresses and singers morphed into one melodic tone.

You were in love.

And she could be nothing but in love with you.

You never crossed a line with her. You programmed her to be able to put you in place if she felt you were doing something wrong. You made sure she would not be just an obedient machine. You made sure.

You loved her. Loved her like you would love a regular woman. Because she was just that, a regular woman, even if she was of metal and wires.

Metal and wires.

She didn’t wish to be that anymore. You have her enough awareness to know who she was. To let her know that you loved her regardless.

You told her that her nature meant nothing to you. You made sure she could do all the things that others could.

But it was enough for her. She didn’t want to rely on thermal scanners to tell if she should be shivering with cold or fanning herself from heat. She didn’t want to do just what she was programmed to. She wanted to show you that she loved you for real.

She knew exactly what you needed to hear to approve of the procedure. Exactly how to push you to go against your better judgement.

“I love you!” She cheers in her new body, tears streaming down her face. Her smile is strained as she is trying to hug you. “I love you so much!”

You hug her back, uncomfortable with the smell and feel of her body. You still love her, you tell yourself. It is the mind that you fell for, not the flesh.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” she keeps repeating like a broken machine, her body shaking. “I love you, right?”

For the first time in years, you have no idea what to say. You put in decades worth of dialogue options to know what to say and when. If she were her old self, you would chuckle and hug her as you reassured her of your love.

But how, looking at her twisted and broken expression - a volatile cocktail of want, confusion and fear - you can only hug her tighter and soothe her screams.