Chapter 5: Jude

Misfortune arrives faster than anything else. The home Clara Evans and Julian Hayes had built together was too fragile; a single drop of agony was enough to crush it.

After Julian’s accident, Eleanor Hayes sought Clara out privately once more, bringing with her an offer from a top-tier national AI research institute. Clara stared at the coffee in front of her, unsure of what expression to wear. The choice between love and bread had finally stepped out of a novel and stood directly before her. Julian’s features were very similar to Eleanor’s—distant when not smiling, but radiating warmth the moment they did. Eleanor, a girl raised in luxury who married one of the most powerful men in Boston and gave birth to an enviable heir... Clara suddenly had a wicked thought: If she refused to leave Julian and became the most unwanted, unpresentable daughter-in-law of the Hayes family, would she count as one of the stains on Eleanor’s perfect life story?

But she couldn't bring herself to do it. She couldn't bear to watch Julian fall from the clouds and into the dirt because of her. Clara knew she had countless arguments to throw back at Eleanor. She could talk about their youthful devotion; she could say that even without the support of the Hayes family, they could live happily as an ordinary couple. But Clara knew that for Julian, that would be a completely different and far harsher path.

"Clara, if you don't like the coffee, would you like me to change it for something else?"

"Mrs. Hayes," Clara shook her head, "Thank you. And please thank Mr. Hayes for me as well. This offer is very tempting, but," Clara paused, "I still want to tell Julian myself."

Eleanor frowned, but ultimately agreed.

The Hayes family arranged their meeting for the first weekend after Julian was discharged from the hospital. Clara brought only a bouquet of sunflowers and nothing else. Julian sat in a private room at The Willow Pavilion, his head down as he ate in silence. Clara accompanied him for a few bites before finally speaking.

"Do you really plan to end things with me in this silence?"

"You're the one who wants to break up. I haven't agreed to it."

"Whether you agree or not, we will end up apart in the end."

"Clara Evans," Julian dropped his chopsticks. "Do you really have so little faith in me? Before I went into the hospital, we clearly promised to keep going together. Clara, why did you suddenly change?"

"Julian," Clara took a deep breath. "Do you know that on the night you went to the hospital, I only had one month’s intern salary in my account? Three thousand dollars. Three thousand dollars wasn't even enough for your medicine. Your monthly part-time earnings just covered the rent, and my money just covered food and drink."

Seeing Julian remain still, Clara glanced at him and continued, "I’m not blaming you, and I’m not demanding a lavish lifestyle. But this is reality, Julian. If nothing goes wrong, we could grow old together, but accidents always happen more often than we imagine. The landlord wanted to raise the rent last month, and you argued with him all afternoon. You only dared to buy a small carton of seasonal cherries at the fruit stand. The down jacket you’re wearing is a clearance item from a discount rack... Julian, I stood at the payment window for a long time that day. So long that I had no idea where I could possibly find the money to pay for your surgery."

"Clarie..."

"I know these words sound ridiculous, but you shouldn't have to live like this, Julian. You’ve lived a different life since you were a child. I can grit my teeth and endure until life gets better, but you can't," Clara smiled weakly. "I don't want to see you suffer in this world."

If you were to ask Julian when he felt most powerless in his twenty-plus years of life, he would choose this moment without hesitation.

Clara wasn't crying, she wasn't angry, and there wasn't even any intense emotion in her words. Julian leaned back in his chair, losing all strength to explain. He could swear oaths, he could make promises, he could even ask Clara to wait for him—wait until he carved out a world of his own and gave her the best life. But Julian knew that with his father’s methods, he might have to fight for a very long time, and the result might not be as beautiful as he hoped. Clara couldn't bear to see him suffer; what about him?

Could he bear to see her suffer?

By the time Eleanor entered, Clara had already left. She saw her son sitting in the chair, staring into space. He wasn't noisy or grieving; he was deathly still, devoid of hope. Eleanor patted his shoulder, trying to find a topic, asking if he wanted to shower before the doctor came for a follow-up visit. In that instant, Julian burst into tears, weeping silently. Finally, he shook his head and said,

"Mom, one day I will make my father realize just how wrong he was."

Eleanor stood frozen, her manicured nails digging into the fabric of her skirt. She realized she had already placed herself on the opposite side of Julian, and she couldn't even bring herself to say "it's for your own good."

Later, Julian went abroad, and Clara’s days passed in a dull blur. She poured all her energy into her research, moving from an intern to a core position. Eventually, by chance, she secured a project to create an AI humanoid robot. When the design reached the stage of the robot’s appearance, Clara hesitated. What should a robot that would spend every day with her look like? Or rather, what did Clara hope it would be?

Night gradually enveloped Boston. In the studio, Clara’s favorite song echoed:

Will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful?

Will you still love me? Even as time passes and beauty fades?

Clara opened her photo album and scrolled to the photos that had been pushed almost to the very top—the photos of Julian that, even after three years, still felt like they were taken yesterday. She looked at them one by one, flipping through page after page, until finally, she collapsed onto the workbench, sobbing uncontrollably.

It turned out that love doesn't dissipate; it only piles up and grows, buried deep within the heart.

The next day, Clara entered all the data: the features, the build, the tone of voice, the habitual gestures. Bit by bit, she constructed the AI robot, reconstructing Julian from her memory... It wasn't until she pressed the confirm button that Clara realized she had never forgotten Julian.

Three months after the data was finalized, the robot was delivered to Clara’s studio. She stared at the robot’s face, her fingertips brushing over its skin. Except for the lack of human temperature and a heartbeat, it was like a sleeping Julian. Her heart hammered like a drum as she pressed the power button. The robot’s emotionless voice asked her for some basic settings. After Clara answered them one by one, she paused before the name setting.

The robot’s hollow eyes looked at her. Clara’s breath grew ragged as all her memories flooded back—their meeting, their love, their separation. With a trembling voice, she replied,

"Jude. Your name is Jude."