Page 92 of Forty, Flirty & Fake-ly Yours

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SYSTEM RESTORE POINT: HEART

SecureMatch Headquarters,Seattle, WA

GRAYSON

Three days after the engagement party, and I'm attempting to optimize my way back to normal. Seattle's perpetual February grey provides a fitting backdrop as I fall into familiar patterns.

Gym at 5 AM. Office by 7.

Meetings scheduled with exacting precision. Down to the minute.

Everything exactly as predicted, except for how I keep expecting to see golden-brown eyes and loud belly laughs around every corner.

"Sir," CORA announces as I finish my third boxing session of the day, "your cortisol levels suggest elevated stress. Would you like me to compile a statistical analysis of healthy coping mechanisms?"

"No, CORA."

"Perhaps a comparison study of post-breakup recovery timelines?"

"Definitely not."

"Then might I suggest reviewing your playlist? Studies indicate that repeated listening to 'All By Myself' correlates with?—"

"Mute, CORA."

The AI falls silent just as my phone buzzes.

Connor:Your robot keeps sending my grandmother links to relationship counseling services. What kind of monster have you created?

I can’t tell if he’s talking about CORA. Or his grams.

Then Alex:Mac says Nonna Flora's cooking has reached critical mass. Something about your "disrupted energy" affecting her Sunday gravy's emotional stability. Pretty sure she's planning an intervention via cannoli.

I silence them both, focusing instead on the punching bag with probably more force than necessary. The gym's early morning quiet feels almost meditative.

There’s no algorithms, no AI assistants. Just the steady rhythm of my combos. Over and over again.

"Your form's off."

I turn to find Douglas Franklin watching me, looking dapper and half-bored.

"I wasn't aware you boxed," I say, unwrapping my hands.

"I don't. But I do read TechCast." He holds up his tablet, where Emily Hanning's article practically glows: "Tech's Most Eligible Bachelor Discovers Love Can't Be Coded: An Exclusive Look at Silicon Valley's Most Fascinating Romance."

"Douglas—"

"It's actually quite good." He scrolls through the piece. "Especially the part where you apparently had an emotional breakdown about the limitations of algorithmic matching. Very... humanizing."

"I can explain?—"

"No need." He puts away the tablet. "Though you might want to explain why you're destroying perfectly good boxing equipment instead of fixing what's actually bothering you."

"Nothing's bothering me." I grab my water bottle, definitelynot thinking about auburn hair in firelight. "Everything's operating at optimal efficiency."

"Right. That's why your AI has been sending my entire board meditation app recommendations."

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