The Evil That Came

Part 3: The shattered pieces

Like all short-lived things, the headlines faded away. People accepted that Greg and Lisa were a couple, but only in the upper echelons of power did their relationship leave a stain. The political climate seemed to be heated, mainly due to Greg's decision to become the Head of the DSR's research division. Some of the DSRs, or Robos, as they were called, felt like Greg was a sellout. Others were hopeful for change. The disparity between their lives and those of humans was apparent. But politics loves to promise and not deliver.

It has been five years since Greg and Lisa started their relationship. Which means it has been five years since the ending of Matilda's and Greg's flirtatious banter at the Luncheon. Surprisingly, she decided to work with Greg, but the relationship always felt..Icy. She only talked to Greg about the research facility and business opportunities. She was a former presidential advisor, so fundraising and speeches were her greatest strengths. 

Matilda walked toward Greg's office, her heels clicking rhythmically against the tile floor. She laid a folder on the table and, with her now-clinical signature style, said, "We secured donors for the new library in Traverse Park"—the new name for the walled-off location where DSRs lived. An initiative started by Greg to bridge the peace between Humans and DSRs. The name the DSRs preferred to go by is Robos. Greg still felt uncomfortable about the name change, considering it was initially a slur, but in political and military circles, they are still called DSRs. 

Matilda crossed her arms, waiting for Greg to talk, as he usually needed some information from her when she walked into his office—tapping her finger against her elbow. Greg paused, and an awkward silence began to fill the air. "When did we get here?"

Matilda raised an eyebrow. "What?" 

"We had such a connection at the start, and now it has been years with you working here, and you don't even look at me." He looked at her searchingly. 

She uncrossed her arms, and with an even tone, she said, "We got here because you chose her." 

Greg's eyes widened. "Lisa?" 

Matilda felt steam rising within her, and Greg felt the room grow cold. He leaned back in his chair, startled by the intensity in her eyes. "You chose her, and I chose my work. You thought we could be friends!? I watched you choose her every day. I watched you, Greg. I know you love her, but I know you still want me. Her voice dropped an octave. I see it in the way you pause before briefing me, the look you give me in meetings. I feel your eyes undressing me when I am at my desk. I am a professional, but I am not blind!"

Boiling over, Matilda stepped closer, invading his personal space just as he had done in the courtyard all those years ago. And then, through gritted teeth, she said, "You chose what you know, the familiar."

Greg gulped. The chasm of silence grows by each ticking second. " I am a man of many things. But I am also a man of honor. I see you, but I don't think about what-if. I don't live in fantasy; the life I live, I cannot afford to live in fantasy. He rose from his seat, casting a shadow over Matilda. "I like what I see. I'll admit that, but I love my wife. There's a difference between a body and a soul, and my wife has both." 

Matilda glared at Greg, face-to-face, leaning over the glass table, with a jagged, icy glare of resentment, anger, and wounded pride. The door slid open to General Alden standing in the doorway. Matilda quickly gained her composure and unruffled her linen shirt. " Hello, sir. Not every day we see you here, to what do we owe the pleasure?" 

General Alden looked between Greg, standing and still leaning over the desk, and Matilda's flushed face. He gave a seemingly knowing look. "I hope I wasn't interrupting anything." A slight amusement filled the corners of his mouth. Matilda profusely told him no. "Actually, I was just leaving. It was nice seeing you, sir." General Alden stepped aside from the doorway to let her pass through.