The drive back home was tense, and you and Ai found yourselves in an endless argument. It was a miracle that there wasn't an accident, considering how distracted Ai was. The fight continued as you arrived home and carried on in the kitchen.

Late into the night, it reached a breaking point. You couldn't handle it anymore, so you retreated into the bedroom, locking the doors and refusing to speak. Ai spent over an hour outside the door, desperately reiterating his points, accusing you of immaturity, and urging you to talk things out with him.

But by the time Ai's determination waned and he finally offered an apology, it was already too late. The door remained locked, and you stayed silent, unwilling to engage any further.

The echoes of your final words reverberate in Ai's mind like a haunting melody, pulling him toward the dangerous territory of guilt.

"I can't keep arguing with you, Ai, because when I see your face in the morning, I want to be happy."

So here he lies on the couch, using the throw pillows as a makeshift blanket, deep in contemplation of his actions. When he tries to recall the exact arguments, they slip through his grasp, leaving only hazy outlines behind. Ai knows he was upset (reasonably so in his opinion) over what he perceived as you flirting with Jinguji, or at the very least, not shutting down Jinguji's obvious advances. In response, you called him juvenile for seeing infidelity in what you believed to be just a friendly chat. The conversation had quickly spiraled into a torrent of complaints and accusations from both sides, and now it all blends together into an irrelevant, upsetting, and regretful blur.

His chest swells with uncontrollable guilt. He certainly didn't raise his voice at you, but his tone was downright cold. He's never spoken to you in such a way—he can't even imagine doing something like that! Yet, something powerful came over him. A nauseating pang of jealousy sent his reason and logic spiraling. All consuming, mind-numbing, moral-blurring jealousy...

Ai can't recall a single time in his life when he felt this before. Ai wants to say the feeling has subsided with distance from Jinguji and time since the argument, but that would be a lie. Deep inside, tucked somewhere between his ribs, the jealousy lives on, writhing and squirming like a vile worm, just waiting for another opportunity to feed.

With a heavy sigh, Ai throws his arm over his eyes. Tonight, the couch will be his bed—a restless place to lay his head, but preferable to sleeping beside you after he hurt you so much.

Ai is undeserving of such a privilege.

❀❀❀

You heard the soft echo of Ai's footsteps as he left the hall and retreated to the living room. Curiosity tugged at you, and you pressed your ear to the door, only to find the other side enveloped in an eerie silence. With solitude confirmed, you crawled back into bed, the coolness of the sheets offering little comfort.

Laying your head on the damp pillow, you stared up at the ceiling, lost in a sea of emotions. Your heartache continued, and tears flowed freely, their salty trails streaming down to your ears.

Ai was right to argue with you. Whatever Ren was doing, it was something a "married" woman such as yourself should not have allowed. Still, Ai has never argued with you. You didn't think it was even possible! Ai was programmed to hold you in the highest esteem! His capacity to disapprove of anything you do is unexpected.

You hesitate to call it what it is: jealousy. Ai shouldn't be able to feel this!

He wasn't supposed to be able to cry either...

And now you're the one crying. With trembling hands, you wipe your cheeks and take shaky breaths. "For someone who doesn't love Ai, you sure as hell cry like you do," you mutter to yourself, frustrated with your loss of control.

LOVE.exeWhere stories live. Discover now