Miller nodded. "Yeah. I don't get it, but yeah. He's my friend."
"I'm your friend, too."
Miller had to swallow. He had to take another deep breath before he could say, "That's all I can really ask. That you be my friend."
She was very quiet, just watching him.
"I had this crazy dream," he told her, "that morning we made love. I was thinking, this could be my life. I thought, maybe I could feel this good every single day. This woman could love me, and I could become this peaceful, relaxed, happy man. I could be so much more than I've ever been before – than I'd ever thought I'd be. And I could picture us, forty years from now, still making love, still holding hands, still laughing together. I really liked that picture."
Mariah's heart was in her throat as he looked away from her, as he was silent for several long moments. As she watched, he swallowed hard, and when he looked back up at her, his eyes were luminous with unshed tears.
"But I'm not that man. I'm 'The Robot.' And I don't blame you if you can't love me – if you don't want to love me. I'm hard, and I'm driven, and my job matters too damn much to me. I wouldn't wish myself on anyone – maybe especially not on you." He took another deep breath and forced a smile as he squeezed her hand. "So, go on. Get out of here. You've seen for yourself that I'm okay. You can leave."
Mariah couldn't move, couldn't speak.
"It's okay," he said. "I'm okay. I'm just...I'm glad I had the chance to love you. To, you know, know that I could actually feel this way and..."
One of his tears escaped, rolling down his cheek and splashing onto Mariah's hand. He swore, turning away and tightly closing his eyes. But that only served to make more of his tears fall.
"John," Mariah said quietly, gently touching his face. "Robots don't cry." She leaned forward and kissed him and when she pulled back, she whispered, "What would Jonathan Mills think if I told him that I made a mistake, too? What would he say if I told him that really, all this time, I've been in love with a man named John Miller?"
He could feel all his emotions cross his face. Disbelief. Amazement. Confusion. Jubilation. She loved him. She loved him!
He made a sound that was something like a laugh as he fought to keep his eyes from filling with tears again. And then he didn't fight anymore. Hell, with Mariah, he didn't need to fight it. He wanted her to know, wanted her to see the way she made him feel.
"He would wish you the best of luck," he told her, "and he would warn you that with me, you're probably going to need it."
Mariah touched his cheek, touched the tear he knew was shimmering there. "And what do you think about that?"
"I think that if you still have the urge to change your name, you should consider changing it to Miller."
He'd caught her off guard. "Are you asking me to marry you?"
"Yes," he said. "Yes, I am."
This time, the tears that fell were Mariah's. "Yes," she whispered, "I'd love to change my name." She leaned forward and kissed him.
It was the sweetest kiss Miller had ever known.
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LOVE WITH THE PROPER STRANGER Page 21