Code Cold Love

To make Julia feel secure, I developed the habit of reporting every single detail of my life to her.

A random flower blooming on the sidewalk, a terrible cup of coffee, the sunset on my way home from work.

Even if she just crossed my mind for a split second, I would text her.

Her replies were always short and dismissive, but she always replied.

So, for the past six months, I survived the grueling process of planning our wedding entirely on those cold but consistent messages. I booked the venue, picked out my tuxedo, and handled the caterers all by myself.

Until five days before the wedding. I found an AI program running on her laptop.

It was designed to categorize every text I sent, extract keywords, and generate the most generic, flawless, dismissive response possible.

If I texted that I missed her, it replied, "Yeah."

If I vented about a bad day, it replied, "Got it."

If we argued, it replied, "Stop overreacting."

It turned out that for the past half-year, Julia was never the one responding to me.

And in the chat window right next to mine, her messages with another man were densely packed.

From "good morning" to "good night."

From debating what to eat for lunch, to planning a future beach trip together.

I finally understood.

Julia's love was never silent. It was overwhelming and loud.

It just never belonged to me.

And I finally made the decision to walk away from this one-sided waiting game.

...

When Julia finally got home, it was past ten at night.

She pushed the door open, slipping off her heels. "Why are you still up?"

I sat on the living room sofa, staring at her.

"I was waiting for you."

She frowned.

"If you have something to say, just text me. Why do you have to wait up?"

I looked at her.

"Julia, do you think I talk too much?"

She paused, kicking her shoes onto the rack.

"Why are you asking this out of nowhere?"

"Just tell me the truth."

She tossed her coat over the back of a dining chair, a flash of irritation crossing her face.

"Sometimes, yes."

I nodded.

"Like when?"

"Like when I am at work, and you send me paragraphs of pointless garbage."

"For example?"

"For example, today at noon. You texted me that a new bakery opened downstairs and asked if I wanted to go this weekend. Then in the afternoon, you said you wanted to change the wedding centerpieces to white lisianthus. And tonight, you texted me that a streetlight was broken and you were scared walking alone."

She scoffed, a mocking smile on her lips.

"Nathan, have you ever noticed that you literally have to tell me every single thing that happens to you?"

I stared at her.

"Isn't that what people in love do?"

"But I genuinely do not have the energy for it."

She sat down across from me, her tone softening slightly, as if she were lecturing a child.

"I am exhausted from work every day. When I get home, I still have to manage your emotions. Can you please just grow up?"

Grow up.

For the past five years, that was her favorite thing to say to me.

I wanted to celebrate our anniversaries. She told me to grow up and stop caring about pointless rituals.

I wanted her to come with me to try on my tuxedo. She told me to grow up because all suits look exactly the same.

I wanted to vent to her about the stress at work. She told me to grow up because everyone hates their job.

But today, I saw her chat history with Liam.

The logs were so endlessly long that it took me all afternoon just to scroll back six months.

It showed a version of Julia that was entirely foreign to me.

She answered his every call. She was attentive, accommodating, and sometimes so hopelessly childish it was jarring.

When Liam complained that the grapes he bought were too sour, she spent thirty minutes sending voice notes, gently coaxing him out of his bad mood.

I looked at Julia, unable to hold the question back any longer.

"Then why doesn't Liam have to grow up?"

Julia's brow instantly furrowed into a harsh knot.

"Nathan, did you wait up for me just to pick a fight?"

Turning the blame back on me.

It was her signature move.

Every single time Liam's name was brought up, the argument always ended with her interrogating me, making me feel like I was being unreasonable and immature.

But this time, I did not back down.

"Fine. Let's not talk about Liam."

I locked eyes with her, enunciating every word.

"If you think I talk too much, you could have just told me. Why did you use an AI program to fake your replies?"

Julia's face finally dropped.

The irritation in her eyes was suddenly tainted with genuine guilt.

"How do you know about that? You went through my laptop without asking?"

I did not say a word. I just kept staring at her.

After a long silence, she let out an exasperated sigh, as if conceding defeat.

"You are always complaining that I only code custom gifts for Liam and never for you. That AI script was supposed to be your gift."

I almost laughed.

Julia was a genius software engineer, widely known in the industry.

For Liam's birthday, she coded a custom website just for him.

When you clicked on it, digital snow fell across the screen, fireworks exploded, and a message flashed in the center:

"Liam, stay happy forever. I will always be right here with you."

When Liam had insomnia, she developed a sleep-aid app for him.

It recommended white noise based on his mood and sent him a push notification to drink warm water at two in the morning.

When Liam was bored at work, she designed a mini-game.

The little pixel characters would follow him around cheering, "You are the best, Liam!"

But when it came to me.

My gift was an automated script designed to ignore my existence.

I could not even find the energy to argue with her anymore. I just turned around and went to the bedroom.

The next morning was my day off, so I slept in a bit.

Before I even opened my eyes, the loud, unfiltered sound of laughter drifting from the living room woke me up.

I pushed the bedroom door open and saw Julia standing by the entryway, kicking off her sneakers.

Her hair was damp with sweat, her athletic jacket was unzipped, and she was carrying two plastic takeout bags.

Liam was standing right behind her. His cheeks were flushed red, and he was laughing.

"I seriously thought my legs were going to give out today."

Julia looked at him, her eyes curving into a warm smile.

"That is what you get for staying up late gaming again. I'll cut a mile off your run tomorrow."

During our second year of dating, I asked if we could start taking evening walks around the neighborhood after dinner.

She said she did not have time.

I brought it up a few more times over the years.

She always told me that work was draining enough, and she just wanted absolute silence when she got home.

But for the past three years, she woke up an hour early every single morning to go jogging with Liam.

Rain or shine. She never missed a day.

Seeing me standing in the hallway, Julia's smile faltered.

"You are up?"

I did not say anything.

She held up the takeout bags.

"I brought breakfast. You want some?"

I did not even need to look inside to know what she bought.

Shrimp dumplings and seafood congee.

Liam's absolute favorite breakfast. And the one thing that would send me into anaphylactic shock.

The first time I ended up in the ER with a severe allergic reaction, Julia sat by my hospital bed and solemnly typed my seafood allergy into her phone's notes app.

But the next time she brought breakfast home, it was seafood congee and shrimp dumplings again.

Because Liam loved seafood. It was a memory etched into her bones after knowing him for twenty years.

A heavy, suffocating wave of exhaustion washed over me.

"Julia."

She looked up.

"Why can you never remember that I am allergic to seafood?"

The casual smile on Julia's face froze completely.

Liam immediately stepped in, sticking his tongue out playfully as he looked at me.

"Oh man, Nathan, this is totally my fault. I kept rushing Julia to buy from this specific spot, so she completely forgot to ask what you wanted."

"It won't happen next time, right?"

Julia quickly nodded, taking the out.

"Yeah. I will grab you something else next time."

Always next time.

But ever since they started their morning runs, there had never been a "next time" where she brought home a breakfast I could actually eat.

I did not say another word.

Liam was already walking toward our bathroom like he owned the place.

"Julia, I am gonna go grab a shower real quick. I am sweating like a pig."

"Go ahead. I put out fresh towels. In the usual spot."

The usual spot.

That meant the second shelf of the bathroom cabinet.

A blue towel, citrus body wash, and a bottle of the exact lotion Liam liked.

Those items sat there permanently.

Julia literally never did a single chore in our apartment.

If we ran out of toilet paper, three days would pass before she even noticed.

But when it came to Liam's toiletries, she restocked them with military precision.

This was supposed to be my home.

But standing there in the living room, I felt like an unwanted intruder intruding on their domestic life.

My chest felt agonizingly tight.

I went back into the bedroom, changed my clothes, grabbed my bag, and headed for the door.

Julia finally looked up from the table.

"Where are you going?"

"I have errands."

She didn't ask any further. She just went back to carefully arranging Liam's chopsticks.

The second I stepped outside, the cold wind hit my face, and I felt like I could finally breathe again.

I had a lot to do today.

I needed to return the tuxedo and cancel the venue.

As soon as I pushed the door open at the bridal boutique, the consultant rushed over with a bright smile.

"Mr. Hayes! Did you bring your fiance this time?"

"We have the two styles you were debating last week all prepped. We are just waiting for the bride to give the final verdict!"

She suddenly stopped talking when she realized I was completely alone. Her smile faltered.

I gave her a polite, indifferent smile.

"It is just me today."

"I am not doing a fitting. I am here to cancel the order."

The consultant looked incredibly uncomfortable, but she did not press the issue.

After all, it is not exactly normal for a groom to come in for six separate fittings without the bride showing up a single time.

The first few times, she tried to smooth things over with a sympathetic laugh.

"Oh, your fiance must be incredibly busy at work!"

By the sixth fitting, she stopped bringing Julia up entirely.

She just quietly helped me adjust my collar and smooth out the wrinkles in the fabric.

After processing the cancellation, she handed me the receipt. She looked at me, her eyes full of quiet sincerity.

"Mr. Hayes, you are a very kind and handsome man. I know you will find someone who truly cherishes you."

I was stunned for a second, but I smiled and thanked her.

As I walked out of the boutique, my eyes burned.

Even a complete stranger who had never met Julia could clearly see that she was not right for me.

Yet it took me five excruciating years to finally open my eyes.

By the time I finished canceling the venue, the photographer, and the florist, the sun was already setting.

My phone buzzed. It was Julia's mother.

"Nathan, honey, come over for dinner tonight."

She paused, then added with a cheerful laugh,

"Julia and Liam are already here. We are just waiting for you!"

Julia's mother loved hosting.

She threw dinner parties multiple times a month, inviting every relative and friend she could get a hold of.

And every single time, Liam was sitting at the table.

As for me, I was usually only invited as a superficial afterthought at the end of the month.

When I walked into their house, the dining table was already set.

Liam was sitting right next to Julia, happily picking up a piece of crab meat with his chopsticks.

Julia, the woman who constantly claimed to be a germaphobe, had meticulously peeled an entire bowl of shrimp for him.

He saw me walk in and his eyes curved into a bright, innocent smile.

"Nathan! You made it."

"Waiting for me" was nothing but a polite lie.

I didn't call them out on it. I just quietly took an empty seat at the far corner of the table.

More than half the dishes on the table were seafood.

I couldn't touch any of it. I quietly ate the plain vegetables placed near the edge.

Halfway through the meal, Julia's mother suddenly smiled at me.

"Nathan, how is the catering menu looking for the wedding?"

"Why don't we add a lobster dish to every table? Oh, and the baked cheese crab. That is Liam's absolute favorite."

Liam gave a shy, embarrassed laugh.

"Auntie, I was just mentioning it in passing."

"If you like it, we add it! It is a wedding, the most important thing is that everyone is happy."

The food in my mouth suddenly tasted like ash.

It was supposed to be my wedding.

I had accepted that Julia wanted absolutely nothing to do with the planning. But now, even the menu for my own reception had to cater to Liam's preferences.

Not that it mattered anymore. The wedding didn't exist.

There was no menu to argue about.

I kept my head down and gave a soft "Mm."

The rest of the dinner was agonizing. When everyone finally put their chopsticks down, Julia's mother ushered me toward the living room to have some fruit.

She turned to Liam with a warm smile.

"Liam, be a good boy and help me with the dishes."

Liam started to stand up, but Julia immediately frowned.

"Mom, Liam hasn't been feeling well lately. He shouldn't be touching cold water. Just let Nathan do it."

My fingers tightened around my glass of water so hard they trembled.

So Julia was capable of remembering things.

But in the five years we were together, she never managed to remember a single detail about me.

Just last month, my stomach ulcer flared up so badly my face was completely drained of color.

She just glanced at me and assumed I hadn't slept well. In a completely serious, lecturing tone, she told me:

"You look terrible. You really need to stop staying up late."

Julia's mother looked surprised, then let out an awkward laugh.

"What kind of host makes the guest do the dishes? Since Liam is not feeling well, your dad and I will handle it."

Julia was shoved into the kitchen to help.

Liam followed her, leaning lazily against the doorframe, watching them work and cracking jokes.

I sat entirely alone in the corner of the living room, feeling like a pathetic clown peering through the window of someone else's perfect life.

A while later, Liam let out a loud yawn, acting tired.

Julia noticed instantly. She stood up and naturally grabbed her car keys.

"It is getting late. We should head out."

Just like always, she insisted on dropping Liam off first.

Not that it was a long drive. Liam's apartment was only two streets away from ours.

Julia had personally picked that apartment out for him.

The neighborhood was quiet, the landscaping was beautiful, and the security was top-notch.

His favorite breakfast place was right downstairs, and his gym was just around the corner.

But the most important selling point was that it was only two streets away from us.

"Just in case Liam has an emergency, I can get there in three minutes," she had justified.

She had a very loose definition of an "emergency."

A leaky pipe. A power outage. A mild fever.

Even if he woke up from a nightmare at 3 AM or got scared watching a horror movie, she would rush over.

When Julia pulled up to his building, Liam waved at us with a bright smile.

"Bye Julia! Bye Nathan! Drive safe."

Julia kept her eyes on the rearview mirror, watching until he safely entered the lobby before putting the car back in drive.

The car, which had been filled with their laughter just seconds ago, instantly fell into a suffocating, heavy silence.

As we neared our building, I finally broke the quiet.

"Julia, do you ever think that you and Liam are a little too close?"

She was clearly still in a good mood.

In a rare moment of affection, she reached over and lightly stroked the back of my hand.

Like she was petting an obedient dog.

"Are you jealous?"

"Liam and I have known each other since we were in diapers. If something was going to happen between us, it would have happened a decade ago."

"Besides, I am marrying you at the end of the day. Is that not enough?"

No. Of course it wasn't enough.

But I didn't say it out loud. I just slowly pulled my hand away and let out an exhausted sigh.

"Do you have time tomorrow?"

"I have something I need to talk to you about."

Julia instinctively frowned.

"Why do we have to talk face to face? Can't you just text me on"

She stopped herself mid-sentence.

She probably just remembered.

I already knew that the person texting me for the last six months was a string of code.

After a few seconds of tense silence, she changed her tune.

"Fine."

"I will clear my schedule tomorrow."

After five years together.

Even if I was canceling the wedding, I owed it to both of us to say it face to face.

To give this pathetic, miserable relationship a clean, dignified ending.

But when I woke up the next morning, Julia was already gone.

My phone buzzed with a rare, unsolicited text from her.

"Liam wanted to check out that new hot spring resort outside the city. I am gonna hang out with him for a bit. I will be back this afternoon."

I stared at that text for a very long time. Then I typed back.

"I told you last night that I needed to talk to you today."

A reply came through instantly.

"Stop overreacting."

I knew immediately.

That wasn't Julia.

The AI script was running again.

I didn't bother replying. I got out of bed and started packing my things.

There wasn't much to pack anyway.

After living in this apartment for five years, everything that actually belonged to me fit neatly into a single suitcase.

I waited all afternoon. By nightfall, she still hadn't come home.

Around 8 PM, I opened Instagram and saw a new post from Liam.

It was a photo of the resort at night, lit up beautifully. He was throwing a peace sign at the camera.

The caption read:

"This place is incredible. I never want to leave! So glad Julia came with me."

Someone commented below:

"I heard that place is a few grand a night! Look at you living the high life."

He replied with a shy emoji:

"Can't put a price tag on my happiness! Plus, Julia is footing the bill anyway ~"

Staring at the screen, it finally clicked.

Julia must have told him that I wanted to sit down and talk to her today.

So Liam intentionally dragged her out of the city today of all days.

He probably assumed I was just going to nag her about wedding planning again.

Because ever since we started preparing for the wedding, this was exactly how he operated.

The day we were supposed to do the cake tasting, he claimed his stomach hurt.

The day we were supposed to pick out invitations, he claimed his laptop crashed and he needed her to fix it.

The day we went venue shopping, he claimed his power went out and he was scared to be alone in the dark.

Eventually, Julia just stopped showing up to anything wedding-related.

And yes, I did want to talk about the wedding today.

But this time, it was to tell her that it was permanently canceled.

The next day, Julia still didn't come home.

I texted her.

"Are you coming back today?"

The script replied: "Yeah."

"This is incredibly important."

"Got it."

"If you don't come home today, you are going to regret it."

"Stop overreacting."

Three texts. Three AI-generated responses.

The clock struck midnight. No new messages popped up on the screen.

By all logic, right now, I should be sitting in front of a mirror, letting a stylist fix my hair.

There should be a fleet of luxury cars waiting downstairs.

There should be friends and family laughing loudly outside the door.

But instead, the apartment was dead silent. My single suitcase was sitting by the front door.

My screen lit up.

Julia finally sent a real message.

"I will be at the venue on time tomorrow."

"I do not have time in the morning. I promised to go jogging with Liam. Let's just skip all the traditional door-games and keep it simple. Make sure you are not late."

She was going jogging with another man on the morning of our wedding.

Only Julia was capable of something so ruthlessly insensitive.

This time, I was the one who didn't reply.

I clicked on her profile, hit block, and deleted her contact without a second thought.

I grabbed the handle of my suitcase, called a cab, and headed straight for the airport.

Five days ago, the moment I canceled the wedding, I booked a one-way ticket out of the city.

During those five days, if she had chosen meeven just onceI probably would have canceled the flight.

But she didn't.

To be brutally honest, in five years, she had never chosen me.

When the plane landed, I checked into a hotel and slept better than I had in years.

Meanwhile, back in my hometown.

Julia, Liam, and her entire extended family arrived at the luxury hotel around 10 AM.

There were no floral arches at the entrance. No welcome signs.

And definitely no massive wedding portrait with our names on it.

Julia frowned, grabbing the arm of a passing waiter.

"Which banquet hall is the wedding in today? We are the bride's family."

The waiter froze, pulling out his tablet to check the schedule. He looked completely confused.

"Ma'am, there are no weddings booked for today."

He paused, a look of realization hitting him, and slapped his forehead.

"Oh, wait! There was one scheduled. But the groom canceled it five days ago."