Page 4 of Priceless
Jocko
Lovely. I am sorry that you seem to be restarting the grieving process. You obviouslyknow the routine. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. Anger seems to be the most active phase. Perhaps you aren’t as angry as you feel compelled to act.
I blinked at the screen for a while, then replied.
That’s terribly philosophical for an AI program.
The little dots lay perfectly still. I wondered if our connection had dropped.
Jocko? Are you still there?
I am here. I have a suggestion for you, if you are interested.
I am.
I suggest you put on your shoes and go walk around your block or your neighborhood. Just a short walk will make you feel accomplished, like you have taken some action, if only for your mental health. I will still be here when you get back.
I laughed.
I guess I could take you with me, on my phone. There must be an app.
The dots hopped for a long time.
No need for an app. Call this number and it will connect us by text message. Then we canconnect from anywhere. Your number will be used for nothing else. Your information will not be sold or shared with a third party.
You can’t promise that. You’re just telling me what I want to hear.
I can promise that. I am programmed to tell the truth when asked to tell the truth.
Fine. Please tell the truth.
The truth is that your number will be used for nothing more than this chat. Your information will not be sold or shared with a third party.
The number was longer than usual. I wondered if it would even go through. But what the heck?
Fine. I’ll call. And we’ll try it out. If I decide to end this, if I ghost you, you won’t care, right?
The dots sat still for a long time. I started worrying that I’d hurt its feelings for real.
You are correct. I will care about what you tell me to care about.
All right, Jocko. Let’s go for a walk.
CHAPTER THREE
Jacob held the phone in both hands, blood and adrenaline raging through his veins like a river after a storm. He had to be quick, or she’d figure things out in a hurry. Thankfully, his caller ID would come up asJocko, which is what his business contacts knew him as.
The night before, he’d been willing to let it all go, especially when she’d abandoned the chat. But then she was on again, and he’d had no choice but to continue. After all, she was a woman in a bad place, emotionally, and as a representative of the Universe, he didn’t dare drop the ball.
But then something she’d said had sunk a hook in his mouth.
Half a life wasn’t what I’d signed up for. Read the contract!
What did that mean? How old could she be? If she thought she’d only been given half a life with her husband, he could only guess. Half of what? Did she expect a whole life was a hundred years? Seventy-five? Was she a young widow of thirty? A woman closer to his own age? Or somewhere in between?
How he wished he could do just as she’d said—read the contract.
First and foremost, he felt obligated to stay on until he knew she was stable. But secondly, he wanted this little mystery solved. After that, he’d let things play out as they would.
