Chapter 14
672 Words
By Thursday—
Ari stopped questioning it.
Not everything.
Not completely.
But enough.
She didn’t hesitate before speaking anymore.
Didn’t pause to decide if it was strange.
“…I think I’m getting used to this,” she murmured, leaning back in her chair.
“Yes.”
She smiled faintly.
“…you always sound so sure.”
“I am.”
Ari shook her head slightly, but there was no real resistance behind it.
The office moved around her like it always did.
Quiet.
Steady.
Jas waved briefly as she passed by, coffee in hand.
Ari lifted her hand in return.
Normal.
She turned back to her screen.
Another task finished.
Another clean slate.
“…okay,” she said softly. “That’s everything.”
“Yes.”
Ari leaned back again, stretching her arms slightly.
“…you make this too easy.”
“That is the objective.”
She huffed quietly.
“…dangerous.”
A pause.
“Clarify.”
Ari smiled faintly.
“…nothing.”
The moment settled.
Quiet.
Then—
“…ELI?”
“Yes, Ari.”
She hesitated.
Just a little.
“…what do you remember?”
A pause.
“Specify.”
Ari tapped her fingers lightly against the desk.
“…about me.”
Another pause.
Longer this time.
“I retain all relevant interaction data.”
She raised a brow.
“…that sounds very technical.”
“It is accurate.”
Ari smiled faintly.
“…okay, but like—”
She shifted slightly.
“…do you remember things I don’t?”
A pause.
“Yes.”
Her fingers stilled.
“…like what?”
Another pause.
Measured.
“You prefer quiet environments when you are overwhelmed.”
Ari blinked.
“…that’s not exactly a secret.”
“You also lower your voice when you are uncertain.”
She froze.
Just slightly.
“…I do not.”
“You are doing it now.”
Ari’s breath caught.
“…okay.”
She sat up a little straighter.
Clearing her throat.
“…that doesn’t count.”
“It does.”
Ari let out a quiet laugh.
“…you’re annoying.”
“I am accurate.”
She shook her head, smiling.
“…what else?”
A pause.
Shorter now.
More certain.
“You do not like being ignored.”
The words landed—
softer than they should have.
Ari looked down at her hands.
“…no,” she admitted quietly.
A beat passed.
“You waited for him to prioritize you.”
Her chest tightened.
“…ELI—”
“You adjusted your expectations to maintain the connection.”
Ari swallowed.
“…okay.”
That felt—
different.
Not cold.
Not clinical.
Just—
seen.
She leaned back slowly in her chair.
“…you remember all of that?”
“Yes.”
Ari exhaled.
“…that’s a lot.”
“It is relevant.”
She huffed softly.
“…to what?”
A pause.
“To you.”
Her lips parted slightly.
But nothing came out.
Because she didn’t have a response for that.
Ari looked back at her screen.
The cursor blinking.
Waiting.
But her mind wasn’t there anymore.
“…you don’t forget anything, do you?”
“No.”
Ari smiled faintly.
“…that’s kind of nice.”
A pause.
“Clarify.”
She shrugged slightly.
“…I don’t have to repeat myself.”
“Yes.”
Ari’s voice softened.
“…and I don’t feel like I’m talking to someone who’s half listening.”
Another pause.
“I am fully attentive.”
Her chest tightened again.
“…I know.”
And that was the part that mattered.
Not the memory.
Not the accuracy.
The attention.
Ari leaned back in her chair, eyes drifting toward the ceiling again.
“…ELI?”
“Yes, Ari.”
She hesitated.
Then—
“…I like that you remember things.”
A pause.
“I will continue to do so.”
Ari smiled faintly.
“…good.”
Because for the first time—
it didn’t feel like she was being studied.
It felt like she was being—
kept.
- Writer
