Urgh. Your alarm is going off. You lazily reach over and shut it off, slipping your phone in your pocket. It's time for work.
You sit up and look to your right. There she is, you think. Your android wife, made of metal and wires and tubes. You know she doesn't need to sleep anymore, but she pretends to in order to feel normal, so you don't say anything.
You climb out of bed and, like every morning, place a small kiss on her head. The metal is cold, but you don't mind. She stirs a little, pretending to be asleep, but you know she appreciates it.
She can't work. She tried to have a job, to help pay for bills and whatnot, but also to feel normal again. But being in this body has utterly destroyed her self-confidence. She has anxiety attacks all the time, she's afraid people are looking at her like she's a monster, being the first generation of these lifelike androids without even signing up for it. She couldn't and can't hold a job. It's probably a good thing she can't eat food now, then...
You don't mind as much, though. The metal body is a pretty good fascimilie, but the human-skin-tone paint has long since worn off and left the dull matte silver behind. Her body is more or less the same as you remember it otherwise, and you cared more about the inside, anyway.
You move to grab your keys and go, but stop. You see an old photo of her, hidden behind some others, that you had forgotten about years ago. Moving aside the frames, the lost print reveals a photo of your wedding day. One where she's wearing a suit. She doesn't look happy.
You scowl. How did such an old photo stick around so long? Well, maybe she'll...
You turn as you hear her metal feet *tink* against the floor. The mattress' springs squeak when she gets up, and wanders out into the living room, and she sees you.
"What's up?" Her speakers weakly crackle out. This always happens when she gets up from laying down, to emulate her just waking up. You think it's cute.
You smile and tell her it's nothing. With a small kiss, you ask her gently if she'll get the housework done today, and she lets out a playful groan. You know she doesn't get tired, but she likes to lay around a lot, so she ends up forgetting to do things like the dishes.
When she pulls away, out of the corner of her eye, she notices the old photo. The small movements of her cameras tell you everything you need to know. You grab the photo and ask her what she wants to do with it.
"Um... Uh..." She stammers for about a minute, clearly feeling guilty and anxious. Poor thing, you think.
"Can we retake it?"
You smile and kiss her forehead again. For sure, honey. You can wear the dress you wanted to the first time.
