LOVE.exe

III

DAY 145

Ai has a very busy day ahead of him, so he wakes up early to tackle the morning. The sun is still hiding just below the horizon when he rises, gentle rays of sunlight peeking out in the distance. He gets dressed and collects his belongings. Before leaving the bedroom, Ai leans over you and presses a soft kiss on your forehead. This stirs you, and with heavy eyelids, you reach out.

"Ai?"

"Shh, go to sleep."

"It's so early."

As his fingers glide through your locks, a subtle warmth emanates from his touch, imbued with a profound understanding of your fatigue. "I have to leave now."

"Stay?"

You find yourself suspended in the transcendental realm that resides between sleep and wakefulness. The boundaries of reality blur, merging into a hazy image of shifting colors and elusive shapes. It is a delicate and enchanting state, where dreams mingle with fleeting glimpses of the waking world.

Ai is weak to your plea, but if he stays here with you, he'll lose all resolve. Then he'll never want to get out of bed. He'll want to stay there with you forever. Ai cradles your cheek in his delicate hand, his heart strained. "Return to your dreams, darling. Dream of me."

Your lashes flutter, then with another kiss, you succumb to the tempting embrace of sleep. Ai tucks you under the blankers tighter, then slips out of the room, shutting the door quietly behind him.

From within his bag, Ai produced an envelope, the soft purple hue barely visible in the darkness of the house. Before heading to his car, Ai makes a stop at the mailbox and slides the envelope inside, knowing you will see it when you get this morning's mail.

Ai's company has sent him to a conference that accountants of many big-time companies are attending. The conference is a couple of hours away, but he is sure he will make it on time. His duty is to present the budgeting, forecasting, sustainability, and general financial analysis of his company. He has high hopes for the day; being surrounded by other number-oriented individuals, all with the same goal of understanding the corporate world better, ought to be an enlightening experience.

Just as he calculated, Ai arrives at the conference with plenty of time to spare. He enjoys his time networking, indulging in complimentary refreshments, and conversing about personal experiences.

"You certainly don't look like the type of guy to go into accounting," a woman he speaks to says. "How did you get into it?"

This question threw Ai off. "How...?"

"Yes, how?" the woman repeats. "Personally, I got into accounting after my father got sick and couldn't keep up with the family's small accounting business. I took up the responsibilities one by one until I grew to love the work. So, how did you get into this field?"

Not once in his life has Ai considered this question. Thinking of his past, he can't recall a single moment that he decided to pursue this career. No moment of inspiration. No moment of discovery. It's as if he was simply placed in it. Such a response is odd, so he does his best to ad-lib an adequate answer. "Well... I've always been good with numbers. It is the only career that interests me. I applied for a job and received it. And I have been comfortable in my choice ever since."

The woman seemed unimpressed by this response, but she didn't press further. "You still have a different look about you," she commented. "You have much more of a singer vibe going on. Like a superstar."

The conference went very well. Ai's presentation, well prepared and faultlessly delivered, earns praise and applause. As fascinating as each individual presentation is, one in particular fascinates Ai.