Love Override

CW: This story contains themes of domestic violence and manipulation.



Her eyes darted from one side of the empty road to the other while her feet slapped heavily against the pavement, her strides lengthening as she felt his black eyes boring holes into the sweat soaked t-shirt hanging off her back. He’d chased her down this street every day since she left the apartment they shared together two months ago.

Coming to a stop at the last intersection before the safety of her neighborhood, she looked behind her, certain she would see her ex-boyfriend’s lanky frame and golden skin charging behind, but like every time before, there was no one there. 

Dusk had carried all the families in for dinner, leaving her alone in the mid-autumn air, one mile from the 2-bedroom cottage of a kind woman, local to this coastal New England town, that she was staying. She used to enjoy the solidarity of running by herself, the outdoors were her haven, but now, even thousands of miles away from him, anywhere but inside was dangerous. 

The feeling of being watched grew more intense the closer she neared her place. Pushing the side entrance open to the white brick ranch, she let out the breath she’d been holding since darting across the neighbors grass and onto her own lawn.

Her body flopped onto the worn sofa in relief. Kicking off her running shoes, she slumped back onto the floral pillow behind her and stared at the white popcorn ceiling, conjuring the memory of the night she left home. She could feel the cool knob of their front door between her fingers as she opened it to find her ex waiting for her in the foyer, wine glass in hand. It was the Cabernet they’d picked out together on their trip to Napa the month before. An unsuccessful attempt to reconnect and put the resentments of the previous year behind them. Accepting the glass of wine and stepping further inside, she could see the dining table aglow, the air heavy with the aroma of carbonara - their special occasion meal, and assumed this was another effort to close the emotional distance widening between them. A kind gesture to ease the brunt of forgiveness that was hers to bear. She felt the warmth of his hand on the small of her back as he guided her into the dining room, his voice gentle and reassuring while he pulled out a chair for her to take a seat. 

The memory flickered in a haze, as it always did at this part, the white ceiling coming in and out of view. The glint of the steel blade under his napkin flashed in front of her shooting a chill down her spine. She squeezed her eyes shut trying to hear what he had said from behind her as she charged toward the front door, only her purse clutched to her side as she took the stairs down the three floor walk-up two at a time. Her body shook against the soft cloth of the couch as it remembered what her brain wouldn’t allow.

The rumbles of her stomach echoed out into the cluttered living room, urging her out of her head and into the kitchen to look for food. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a meal. Opening the fridge, it was just as she expected - empty. She peered out from behind the drawn shades in the living room to see her car parked on the quiet street out front. Scanning the area, she paused, squinting her eyes to focus on the shadowed movement under the elm tree across the road. She narrowed the gap in the curtain, her body tensing, as her eyes painted a monster out of the dark silhouette. She could feel the beads of sweat gathering at the nape of her neck as her mind spun and the shadow ebbed. She hadn’t been able to properly equip herself for the possibility of a fight. Large purchases, like guns, could easily be tracked. Her only protection now were ordinary objects she could wield as weapons in the event she found herself cornered by him. As she went to step back and reach for the stashed marble sculpture between the cushions, a squirrel, just 6 inches tall, scurried out into the light of the lamp. Relief allowed a laugh to escape her lips.

The shooting pang of hunger warned her that she wouldn’t be able to sleep if she didn’t get something to eat soon. Tapping the screen of her watch to life, the numbers 7:30 flashed in the dark. The nearest grocery store was twenty minutes away, but if she hurried she could be back within the hour. She could be brave for an hour, she told herself.

Positioning the end of her key from between her index and middle finger, she unlatched the door and slowly creaked it open, looking for any sign of movement. With the night still, she darted down the steps and across the grass. Eight, nine, ten, she counted to herself. There were only 14 steps from the front porch to the car door which meant she was already more than halfway there. Slamming the drivers side of her Honda shut as she slid into the leather seat, her breath heaved quickly from her chest. She made it. 

Standing in the fluorescent light of Hannaford’s, the closest grocery chain, her eyes lingered over the vast selection of apples. She was drawn toward the pale yellow Golden Delicious. His favorite. Even though her memory was foggy from that night 62 days prior, every detail about him remained clear. The exact temperature he liked his steak cooked, perfectly between medium rare and medium, how he liked his clothes folded with the collar tucked in and under the arms and the precise area between his shoulder and collar bone that she knew to press her lips against to cause every muscle in his body to relax. From the moment they met she had felt like she was made for him.

Her eyes lifted from the produce section, the feeling of being watched, creeping across her skin. She jumped, realizing it wasn’t just her paranoia this time. To her surprise, a woman in a purple dress was holding her gaze. She didn’t recognize her, but something about the shape of her face felt familiar. Pushing her cart to the aisle over, she dug her nails into the flesh of her arm to combat the uneasiness rising in her chest. 

“Be careful, Mona,” she heard from behind her.

Her head shot up, pulse thudding as she turned to see the woman in the purple dress standing behind her.

“I’m sorry, have we met before?” she asked. 

The woman in the purple dress shook her head and lunged towards her. 

“Get away now or you’ll be caught,” the woman’s hot breath spat in her face as she grabbed onto her shoulders and squeezed down. 

Her mouth was bone dry as she tried to squeak out a sound, to ask the woman who she was and what she wanted, but nothing came out. 

Before the woman could repeat herself, two men rounded the corner grabbing the stranger by either arm.

“We’re so sorry, this is our aunt, she’s out on a supervised visit,” one of them said.

“She must’ve snuck off while we were grabbing milk,” the other added, holding up a gallon of 2%.

“Come on now, time to get you back,” they said to the woman as she wrestled side to side to escape their grip.

“No,” the woman screamed, starting to flail her legs as one of the men snaked his hand over her mouth and they whisked her out of sight.

    No longer concerned with the demands of her stomach, she abandoned her cart and ran straight for the parking lot. Behind the safety of the locked car door she scanned the lot, expecting to see the men, or at least a car heading down the street, but there was no sign of them anywhere. 

It was hard to keep the steering wheel straight with the way her hands were shaking, but she did her best to stay within the lines. As much as she wanted to lay her foot on the gas, she refrained, for fear of being pulled over. No one could be trusted. 

Swinging open the front door to the ranch, she slammed it closed, pressing her back into the old wood as she slid to the floor, holding her head in her hands. Tears streamed down her cheeks as her mind tried to process how the woman knew her name and why somewhere deep down, she felt like she’d seen her before. 

            It didn’t take long to make her decision. Whether it was a coincidence or that woman knew something about her ex that she didn’t, she heard her loud and clear. She would leave first thing in the morning.

Picking herself up off the ground, the blood in her veins turned to ice, freezing her in place like a statue. The faintest smell of clove cigarettes and basil wafted in the air. 

“Moany,” she heard from the kitchen, “have you been eating? There’s no food anywhere.”

It was the voice she’d only heard in her nightmares since being here. He stepped from around the corner and into the living room where she stood too terrified to run. 

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

She could feel her brain short circuiting as she debated what to grab and where to go, but the muscles in her body refused to move. The face she once couldn’t resist was scarier than any horror movie they had ever watched together. An interest of his that she’d been happy to oblige, even though she preferred softer more romantic films.

“How…did…uh,” she stuttered.

“Come, sit down, we have a lot to discuss,” he said, ushering her over to the couch as though he was offering her a seat in his own home.

Her body was rigid as he grabbed her hand and forced her to sit. 

“You’ve caused an awful lot of trouble in the last few weeks, y’know?” 

She tried to reply, except the words she wanted to say felt tangled in her mouth.

“Don’t worry, you won’t be able to talk right now. That part of your hardware has been powered down.”

Her lips smacked together, trying to verbalize the thoughts in her head even though her tongue felt like it was made of metal. Reaching her hand to her lips, her mouth felt fine to the touch, but still, she couldn’t muster more than a grunt.

“It’s a miracle that you were able to make it this far without more malfunctions.”

Her brow furrowed as she tried to make sense of what he meant. Seeing the confusion on her face, he continued, “Moany, I was so worried when they couldn't locate you.”

She wished he would stop calling her that. Hearing him use that nickname made her feel like she was going to puke. She didn’t find it endearing, especially now, it just felt ominous.

“See Moany, you aren’t real. At least not like I am. You’re the product of a cutting edge AI initiative to make the perfect girlfriend. Except for some reason, your wires started to get crossed.. literally.” 

He let out a soft chuckle even though nothing he said was funny. She tried to move her arms toward the spot between the cushions where her makeshift weapon sat, but her fingers felt fuzzy, like they were moving through quicksand.

“That’s normal Moany, you won’t be able to move much with your system powering down slowly.”

Her head felt swimmy like it was being rocked back and forth underwater. The colors of the furniture moved like waves across the room. 

“Hopefully this reset will get you back to baseline. Help get rid of any resentment we couldn’t get past on our own. It’ll be a fresh start. And I’m gonna try really hard not to screw things up between us this time.”

She tried squinting her eyes open and closed to refocus, but it didn’t help, her vision was getting cloudier. Her lids felt heavy, like gravity was pulling them to the ground, but she fought the urge to fall asleep.

“You know, that night, I was just trying to explain that if we did a reset on your system, you’d feel better. I didn’t expect it to spook you so much that you’d go on the run.”

It felt like her body had jolts of electricity running underneath, each one causing her to convulse in a twitch. Her veins felt hot like they might melt through her skin if they didn’t cool down.

“The software engineers at the Girlfriend Project assured me this was a massive fluke on their part. Turns out they’ve been tracking down a lot of perfect girlfriends in the last few weeks. Some sort of malfunction with their server has been causing these runaway situations pretty frequently.”

His voice sounded like it was playing through an old radio, muffled and fuzzy. Her muscles felt like snapped rubber bands, causing her body to hunch forward, no longer having the tension to hold her upright.

“She should be up and running like new in 48 hours. We’ll make sure this doesn’t happen again, Connor. Thank you for your patience.”

These were the last words she heard before her world went black.

Opening her eyes, it took time for them to adjust to the light. But even behind the blur of sleep in her eyes, she could see his face. His perfect face. He was standing over her, a cup of tea in hand. 

“Connor,” she whispered.

“I’m right here hun, you’ve been sick, but you’re all better now.”

Feeling the warmth of the sun streaming through the window and soft cotton of the sheets, she felt at home.

“I love you,” she smiled, as he leaned over and kissed her