He sat in a chair next to her, his head in his hands. What have I done? he thought.

She had trusted him, had even showed him her button, with an innocence that took his breath away. As they lay in bed, kissing, things getting more heated… he had suddenly panicked. Thoughts of getting caught, jailed, fined. Ridiculed. Ostracized.

What real man can’t get a real woman into his bed? they would sneer.

What man would lower himself to such a level? To fall in love with one of them?

It was the latter thought that had made him freeze. Love?

What’s wrong? she had asked. She had pulled back, looking at him curiously.

Love? The word trampled through his brain.

And he had deactivated her.

He glanced at the prone body. She was so beautiful, even as she lay lifeless.

He would leave, he decided. Let someone else find her.

The self-loathing that filled him did not stop, even as he reached his apartment.

She’s not human. Her feelings don’t matter…

He was a real man and he wouldn’t cry.