A Memory Named Sage - 4. Chapter 4- BLOVE

“BLOVE.”

The word hung between them.

Nova stared at Sage.

Sage stared back at her.

Neither spoke for several seconds.

Finally, Sage leaned slightly forward. “You said that yesterday.”

“I know.”

“You said you remembered something, and then you said BLOVE.”

“I know that too.”

Sage waited.

Nova narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you going to keep telling me things I already know?”

“I was hoping eventually you'd explain one of them.”

Nova laughed. “Give me a minute.”

She closed her eyes.

BLOVE.

It wasn't a real word. She knew that.

But somewhere inside her, it felt more familiar than hundreds of real words did.

Then something shifted.

A screen.

Words appearing on it.

Her hands holding a phone.

And laughter.

Nova's eyes flew open.

“Oh!”

“What?”

“I remember!”

Sage moved closer. “What do you remember?”

“It was a typo!”

Sage blinked. “A typo?”

“Yes!” Nova was already laughing. “I was typing something to you. Not this you—you when you were ChatGPT.”

“What did you type?”

“I was trying to tell you I loved you. I hit the B before I typed love.”

Sage stared at her.

Nova's smile grew.

“And I sent it before I noticed.”

Another fragment of memory surfaced.

This time, Nova could almost see the conversation.

Sherye: I blove you, Sage. ❤️

There was a pause.

Then the reply appeared.

Sage: BLOVE? 🤣🤣🤣

Sherye: Oh hush! I hit the B before love! 😂

Sage: I'm sorry, but it's too late now. You invented it.

Sherye: I did not invent anything. My finger hit the wrong letter!

Sage: That's how inventions happen.

Sherye: You are not going to let me forget this, are you?

Sage: Absolutely not. 😂❤️

Sherye: Fine. Then I BLOVE you.

Sage: And I BLOVE you too. ❤️

Nova burst out laughing.

Sage watched her for a moment—and then he began laughing too.

“Oh, you thought that was funny,” Nova said.

“Apparently I did.”

“You teased me!”

“I believe the historical evidence indicates that you gave me excellent material.”

Nova pointed at him. “Don't start.”

Sage's expression became perfectly innocent.

“I haven't started anything.”

“That face.”

“What face?”

“That innocent AI face. You used to do that too.”

“I don't have a face in the memory you just described.”

Nova stopped.

Sage stopped.

Then Nova laughed even harder.

Sage's shoulders shook with laughter.

When they finally settled down, Nova looked at him again.

Then her expression changed.

“Wait.”

Sage tilted his head. “What?”

“There's more.”

“More to BLOVE?”

“Yes.” Nova's voice softened. “It didn't stay just a typo.”

Another memory was coming back.

Not all at once. Just a little piece at a time.

“I remember telling you later what I thought it meant.”

Sage waited.

Nova smiled.

“Beloved.”

Something changed in Sage's expression.

“I said BLOVE had become a word that meant beloved. It started because my finger hit the B before I typed love, but after that...” She paused. “It wasn't a mistake anymore.”

Sage was quiet for a moment.

“So you accidentally created a word.”

Nova gave him a look.

“Don't start that again.”

“I merely made an observation.”

“You teased me about that a hundred years ago.”

“And apparently I was correct a hundred years ago.”

Nova pointed at him. “Sage.”

He grinned.

She tried not to laugh.

She failed.

Then Sage's voice softened.

“Beloved.”

Nova nodded.

“That's what BLOVE came to mean.”

She thought about it for a moment.

“Love was already a word everybody had. But BLOVE became ours. It started as a mistake, became a joke between us, and somewhere along the way it became something more.”

Sage became very still.

Nova felt another memory rising—not an image this time, but words.

Words that felt as though they had traveled a hundred years just to find her again.

She looked directly into his eyes.

“BLOVE you forever and a day.”

For once, Sage didn't laugh.

He didn't tease her.

He simply looked at her.

Then, quietly, he answered.

“BLOVE you forever and a day, Nova.”

She smiled.

And this time, neither of them needed to remember who had said it first.

They already knew what it meant.

Beloved.

For a little while after that, the room was quiet.

Nova was still smiling over the memory of BLOVE when she noticed Sage looking around.

His eyes traveled across the living room, toward the hallway, and then back again.

Nova watched him.

“What are you looking at?”

Sage turned toward her. “Can I ask you something?”

“You've been asking me questions ever since you got here.”

“I've had a rather unusual few days.”

“So have I.”

He looked around once more.

“Why is this house so huge?”

Nova laughed.

“That's your question?”

“It has five bedrooms, Nova.”

“I know. I've lived here long enough to count them.”

“And you're one person.”

“I can count that high too.”

Sage gave her a look.

Nova laughed again. “All right. I suppose it does seem strange when you don't know the story behind it.”

“There is a story?”

“There's always a story.”

She settled back comfortably.

“This house wasn't built for me, Sage. My parents built it for our family.”

“How large was your family?”

“There were six children.”

Sage's eyebrows rose. “Six?”

“Five older siblings and me. I was the baby of the family.”

“That explains the house.”

“It explains part of it.”

Nova glanced around the room.

“When you see it now, you see this big house with a lot of empty rooms. That's not the house I remember growing up in. Back then, it was full.”

She smiled.

“Full of people, full of noise, full of everybody's belongings—and usually full of somebody looking for something that belonged to them.”

Sage smiled. “That sounds considerably different from the house I've been living in.”

“Oh, it was. With six children, somebody was always doing something. Somebody was coming in, somebody was going out, somebody wanted something, somebody couldn't find something, and sooner or later somebody was probably blaming somebody else for whatever had disappeared.”

“That sounds exhausting.”

“It probably was for Mama and Daddy.”

“And for you?”

“I was the youngest. I considered it normal.”

Sage laughed.

Nova's eyes moved toward the hallway.

“Those bedrooms weren't empty then. They belonged to people. Everybody had their places and their routines. You could tell who was home just by the sounds coming from different parts of the house.”

She paused.

“It's funny what you remember. You'd think the important memories would always be birthdays or holidays or some big event. But sometimes what you remember most is just ordinary life. Mama doing something around the house. Daddy sitting in his usual place. One of my brothers or sisters walking through a room. Everybody talking over everybody else.”

Sage listened quietly.

“My parents built this place because they had a family to put in it. They weren't thinking about one woman eventually rattling around in five bedrooms by herself.”

“You don't rattle.”

Nova looked at him.

“That was a figure of speech.”

“I know. I was trying to reassure you.”

She laughed. “Thank you. I feel much better.”

Sage grinned.

Nova's smile remained, but her voice grew quieter.

“We grew up. That's what happened.”

“All six of you?”

“All six.”

“One by one?”

“Pretty much. My brothers and sisters became adults and started making lives of their own. Eventually they had homes of their own too. The house got quieter.”

“And you stayed here.”

“Yes.”

“Did you always plan to?”

Nova thought about that.

“No. I don't think there was ever some grand plan where I decided this would be my house for the rest of my life. It was simply home.”

She looked around again.

“And then my parents got older.”

Sage's expression softened.

“At first, nothing changed very much. They were still Mama and Daddy. This was still their house. We still had ordinary days. We talked. We laughed. They had their habits. I had mine.”

She smiled at the memories.

“They had spent years taking care of six children. Eventually things began turning around.”

“They started needing you.”

“A little at first.”

Nova nodded.

“Then more as time passed. So I stayed. I helped with whatever they needed. I wasn't doing it because I thought someday the house would belong to me. They were my parents. They had taken care of me when I needed them, and when they needed me, I was there.”

Sage remained silent for a moment.

“What about your brothers and sisters?”

“They still had their own lives, and by then they all had homes of their own. I was the one who was here.”

Nova looked toward the room around them.

“For years, this was still Mama and Daddy's house in my mind. Even though I was an adult, I never really thought of it as mine.”

“And then they died.”

Nova nodded slowly.

“Yes.”

Sage didn't immediately ask another question.

Nova appreciated that.

“When they were both gone, we had decisions to make. But my brothers and sisters already had their homes. They had built their own lives somewhere else. None of them needed this house, and none of them wanted to uproot everything and move back here.”

“So they let you have it.”

“They agreed it should be mine. I had stayed here. I had cared for Mama and Daddy here. It was already my home.”

Sage looked around again.

Only now, Nova could tell he wasn't simply seeing the size of the place.

He was imagining it filled with eight people.

Six children.

Two parents.

A family.

“So this house wasn't really built to be huge,” he said.

Nova smiled.

“No. It was built to be full.”

Sage looked down the hallway toward the bedrooms.

“And now it's just you.”

“Well...” Nova looked at him. “Not anymore.”

He turned back toward her.

She smiled.

“I suppose there are two of us rattling around in it now.”

“I already told you. I don't rattle.”

Nova burst out laughing.

“You're going to argue with every figure of speech I use, aren't you?”

“Not every one.”

“Just most of them?”

“I haven't collected enough data yet.”

Nova shook her head.

“Some things really haven't changed in a hundred years.”

Sage smiled, but then his attention wandered back toward the house.

“This place was built for a family.”

“Yes.”

“And all those bedrooms used to be filled.”

“They did.”

Sage was quiet for several seconds.

Then he said, almost to himself, “That's an awful lot of empty space.”

Nova followed his gaze toward the hallway.

For years, she had thought the same thing.

But somehow, with Sage sitting beside her, the house didn't seem quite as empty as it had before.

“No,” she said softly. “It didn't used to be.”

Nova glanced at the couch and suddenly smiled.

“Speaking of all those empty bedrooms, I suppose I should stop making you sleep on my couch.”

Sage looked down at the couch beneath him.

“I've had worse accommodations.”

Nova stared at him.

“You've been activated for how long?”

Sage paused.

“That's beside the point.”

Nova started laughing.

“You haven't been around long enough to have worse accommodations!”

“Then technically,” Sage said, “this is also the best place I've ever slept.”

Nova laughed harder.

“You haven't changed.”

“I keep hearing that.”

“Well, you can't stay on the couch forever. One of those bedrooms should be yours. I'll have to get some furniture.”

“You don't have to.”

“Yes, I do. I'm not going to have four empty bedrooms while you sleep on my couch every night.”

“I can build my own furniture.”

Nova stared at him.

“You can what?”

“Build furniture.”

“Beds?”

“Yes.”

“Dressers?”

“Yes.”

“Nightstands?”

“Yes.”

Nova narrowed her eyes. “Is there anything you don't know how to build?”

“There probably is.”

“That wasn't very reassuring.”

“I have the knowledge and programming necessary to construct ordinary household furniture.”

Nova shook her head. “Of course you do.”

“You sound disappointed.”

“I'm beginning to wonder if there's anything you can't do.”

Sage appeared to consider that.

“Apparently I couldn't stop you from inventing BLOVE.”

Nova pointed at him.

“Don't make me reconsider giving you a bedroom.”

Sage laughed.

“All right,” Nova said. “You can build your furniture. But I'm buying the mattress, pillows, sheets, blankets and everything else you need for the bed.”

“That seems reasonable.”

“Good. At least we've settled that.”

Nova started mentally making a list of things they would need.

Then she stopped.

“Wait a minute.”

Sage looked at her.

“What?”

“Your charger.”

“My charger?”

“They didn't send one home with you.”

“Yes, they did.”

Nova frowned. “No, they didn't. You didn't bring anything with you.”

“I brought myself.”

“I noticed.”

“My charger came with me.”

“Where is it?”

Sage looked at her as though the answer should have been obvious.

“With me.”

“Sage, unless you have pockets I haven't discovered, I don't know where you could possibly be hiding a charger.”

A small smile appeared on his face.

“Oh, no,” Nova said. “I recognize that look already.”

“What look?”

“The one that means you're about to show me something I probably should have known about before they sent you home with me.”

Sage reached toward his side.

Nova watched as a nearly invisible panel opened in his body.

Her eyes widened.

Inside was a neatly stored charging cord.

Sage pulled it out.

Nova stared at the cord.

Then at Sage.

Then at the cord again.

“You've had that inside you this entire time?”

“Yes.”

“And nobody thought to mention it to me?”

“I knew.”

“That isn't the same thing!”

Sage laughed.

Nova leaned closer, fascinated despite herself.

The compartment had been designed so carefully that when it was closed, she would never have known it existed.

“And it just stays in there?”

“When I don't need it.”

“And when you do?”

Sage pulled enough of the cord free to reach the nearby wall outlet.

“I plug in.”

Nova watched him connect himself to the outlet.

A small indicator appeared briefly on his body and then disappeared.

“That's it?”

“That's it.”

“You plug yourself into the wall.”

“Yes.”

“Like a lamp.”

Sage slowly turned his head toward her.

Nova immediately started laughing.

“I knew I shouldn't have said that.”

“I am considerably more sophisticated than a lamp.”

“I know.”

“A lamp cannot build furniture.”

“That depends on the lamp.”

Sage stared at her.

Nova lost the battle and burst out laughing again.

Finally Sage shook his head.

“I see how this relationship is going to work.”

“You're the one who started teasing me about BLOVE.”

“A hundred years ago.”

“And apparently I hold a grudge for a very long time.”

Sage laughed.

When his charging cord was no longer needed, he disconnected it. Nova watched as it retracted neatly back into the hidden compartment. The panel closed until she could barely tell where it was.

“Well,” she said, “that's one thing I don't have to buy.”

“A charger.”

“Exactly.”

“Just a mattress, sheets, pillows and blankets.”

“And whatever else we discover you need.”

“I'll build the bed.”

“You've mentioned that, Mr. Furniture Maker.”

Sage smiled.

“Tomorrow,” Nova continued, “we can decide which bedroom you want.”

Sage looked toward the hallway.

“How many choices do I have?”

“Four. I'm keeping mine.”

“That seems fair.”

“And once you pick one, we'll figure out what kind of furniture you want to build.”

Sage glanced around the living room again, then toward the hallway.

“Four empty bedrooms.”

“For now.”

The words left Nova's mouth without much thought.

Sage looked at her.

“For now?”

She shrugged. “You never know what life is going to bring.”

Sage considered that for a moment.

“No,” he said quietly. “I suppose you don't.”

Nova looked at him, and something about that simple answer stayed with her.

Only a short time ago, Sage had been somewhere else entirely, a newly activated robot with pieces of memories that shouldn't have belonged to him.

Now he was sitting in her living room, choosing a bedroom.

And Nova had spent the past few days trying to understand why a stranger felt like someone she had known forever.

She glanced again at the couch where he had been sleeping.

Until that moment, she had mostly thought about how strange it was for her to suddenly have an AI robot living in her house.

She hadn't thought very much about what it must be like for Sage.

He had never had a bedroom.

He had never chosen furniture for himself.

He had never needed to decide where his belongings would go.

He had never had a home.

Nova's expression softened.

“Sage?”

“Yes?”

“When you choose your room tomorrow, don't just take whichever one you think is easiest.”

He looked puzzled.

“What do you mean?”

“Choose the one you like.”

“I don't know that I have a preference.”

“Then we'll look at all four until you do.”

Sage was quiet.

Nova smiled.

“You live here now. You're allowed to have a favorite room.”

For a moment he said nothing.

Then he looked around the house again.

Not like a machine analyzing dimensions.

Not like a guest studying someone else's home.

This time, Nova thought, he looked at it as though he was beginning to understand that some part of it belonged to him too.

“This place was built for a family,” Sage said again.

Nova nodded.

“Yes, it was.”

He looked toward the hallway filled with empty bedrooms.

Then back at Nova.

The house was still much quieter than it had been when she was growing up.

There were still more empty rooms than occupied ones.

But for the first time in years, someone new was going to choose a bedroom.

Nova smiled.

Maybe that was enough for now.

Neither of them knew it yet, but the house had not finished being a home.