She Tried to Shut Me Down But He Was Running on Me Chapter 09

She Tried to Shut Me Down But He Was Running on Me Chapter 09

When I woke up, five days had passed.

The second my eyes fluttered open, my hand instinctively flew to the nape of my neck.

The interface was still there, newly fitted with an external protective casing.

The sharp tang of antiseptic no longer lingered in the air.

Instead, a faint, warm scent of sunlight wrapped around me.

I stared blankly for a long moment.

I had never once smelled genuine sunlight inside the top-floor ward.

Blaine’s holographic projection was positioned beside my bed.

He looked far weaker than before, his form flickering faintly at intervals.

He did not speak immediately upon seeing me awake.

He simply watched me quietly.

After a long silence, he whispered.

“Mia, I’m sorry.”

I held his gaze.

He rarely apologized in these three years.

Not out of arrogance.

He had always arranged every single detail for me with meticulous precision.

My meals, supplies, reading materials, room humidity, daily brainwave load—everything was perfectly calibrated.

He never let me lack a single necessity.

Everything except freedom.

I spoke softly.

“What happened to Charlotte?”

“She’s in custody.”

“And the Wades?”

“The family empire has collapsed.”

I nodded slowly.

I felt no surge of triumph, no rush of hatred.

I only felt utterly exhausted.

After nineteen years of endless wakefulness, I finally understood one could grow so tired of being awake that one no longer had the strength to open their eyes.

Blaine noticed my weariness.

His voice softened further.

“Does it still hurt?”

I shook my head.

Then I said the words I had long held in my heart.

“Blaine, I want to leave.”

His projection froze slightly.

Silence settled over the ward.

I braced myself for anger, for the same insistence every Ford family member had voiced—that I could never leave, that his life would end without me.

But he said nothing of the sort.

He only asked gently.

“Where do you want to go?”

My eyes stung abruptly with tears.

“Anywhere but here.

Not this ward, not the sterile pod, not a room watched by cameras twenty-four seven.”

“I want to know who I am, if I’m not your anchor.”

Blaine fell silent for a very long time.

Long enough that I feared his consciousness had disconnected again.

Finally, he lifted his hand.

A digital agreement unfolded beside the bed.

“This is a new anchor contract.”

I stared at the text on the screen.

First clause: Mia retains full personal autonomy. The Ford family may not restrict her movements under any life-binding pretext.

Second clause: Brainwave anchoring is revised from mandatory binding to voluntary connection.

Third clause: Mia holds absolute veto power and can sever the connection, unconditionally, at any time and in any location.

Fourth clause: Blaine shall bear all life risks arising from disconnection independently.

Fifth clause: The Ford family shall establish an independent trust, legal team, and private medical security system for Mia, free of any anchoring obligation.

I stared numbly at every line.

“Do you understand what this means?”

Blaine’s eyes rested steadily on me.

“I do.”

“If I sever the connection, you may die.”

“Yes.”

“Then why sign this?”

His tone remained calm and unwavering.

“Mia, I cannot keep living off your wakefulness while stripping you of the right to rest.”

Tears spilled down my cheeks without warning.

He lifted his projected hand, fingers hovering mid-air.

He could not touch me.

He could only whisper softly.

“I was wrong before.”

“I thought giving you the safest environment and the best care was enough to atone for everything.”

“But I never once asked what you wanted.”

I tightened my grip on the blanket beneath my hands.

“What if I truly want to sleep?”

Blaine’s gaze deepened, earnest and solemn.

“Then I will bear every consequence with you.”

“Even if it costs you your life?”

He smiled faintly, a thin, tender curve of the lips.

“My life was borrowed from death to begin with.”

“I cannot take your entire life as collateral in return.”

In that moment, I finally understood.

He was no longer clinging to my wakefulness to save himself.

He was finally giving my own consciousness back to me.