AfterLife™

Chapter 1

My heart flutters with excitement when I check my holojector for the billionth time. No sign of Stella, but that's to be expected. Her important meeting has probably run late, which is promising. If AlphaGalaxy decides to acquire AfterLife, it'll be a game changer.

I can already see the headlines: VR Giant Acquires Digital Heaven.

And Stella will be one of the key players.

Just be patient.

Rumbling with hunger, my stomach demands a savory morsel while a pot of sauce simmers on the stove. The scent of Italian herbs and spices permeates the kitchen. It's almost torturous. I've skipped breakfast and lunch in order to save room for our tenth anniversary dinner: conchiglie pasta with chorizo.

As a special treat, I've made it by hand. Food printing might be convenient, but nothing tastes better than crunching into golden-brown garlic bread or savoring the crisp texture and vibrant colors of real veggies in a garden salad. It's worth every holocoin. Actual ingredients have a flavor and freshness that extrusion can't quite replicate yet.

Decked out with our finest porcelain china, crystal water goblets, and a linen tablecloth, the mahogany table looks inviting. The dimmed lights give our dining room a gentle ambience while the flames of twin candlesticks dance to the rhythm of soothing music. I've even used our silver cutlery, which forms one straight line from the forks to the knives and spoons.

To mark the occasion, I've ditched comfy projector attire in favor of real clothing. It doesn't happen often. I'm wearing my cute little black dress, the one with the princess seams that fits snugly around the bodice and falls gently to my knees.

When I give a childlike twirl, the skirt flares out in a circle.

Classy and fun, Stella always says.

Clicking my tongue, I check my holojector once more. Not a peep. It's not my style to turn into a royal fusspot due to a bit of tardiness. Not when Stella's cushy job at AfterLife means she gets to create virtual reality--her true passion--while it gives me the freedom to do freelance work from the comfort of my own VR pod. Those perks are worth the odd late night.

Still, this is our special day. I'm a bit disappointed, and my stomach is gnawing at me.

Hope she gets home soon.

Dusk turns to darkness while I wait for Stella to arrive. She doesn't usually run this late without pinging me. Now it's been two hours and my worries have started to nag at me with greater ferocity.

What if it went so well that they invited her for dinner and drinks? What if she forgot about our anniversary? Sun above, what if she had an accident?

Stop. I exhale my worries. Stella's fine. You're fine. Everything is fine.

Shaking my head at my foolishness, I take a seat in one of the mahogany chairs and pour myself a small sample of sauvignon blanc. Real wine. Not a fake knock-off or gutless synthehol made by the replicator.

I swish the sip of wine across my tongue and swallow--delicious medicine for my nerves. Stella won't mind if I get a teensy little head start.

Only that 'little head start' turns into two glasses. Then a whole carafe.

Still no sign of her.

Thank goodness I've bought two bottles.

Now that dinner is ruined, I'm getting more and more antsy. Even though I'm way beyond tipsy from drinking on an empty stomach, it doesn't quell my fear.