I WILL NEVER FORGET THE NIGHT SHE LEFT AFTER SEEING MY CHATGPT PROMPTS

By Samuel Edward

PROMPT—Never will I forget ...

Three years. That’s how long Hinee and I had been together before one quiet night changed everything. Three years of memories. Three years of plans. Three years of believing we were slowly building a future together. And somehow, all of it collapsed because of one question I typed into ChatGPT.

Hinee wasn’t loud or dramatic. She was the quiet kind of woman people underestimated until they actually spoke to her. Intelligent. Calm. Observant. She was in law school when we met, and even in normal conversations she had this analytical way of looking at things that made you rethink your own arguments. But outside of that sharp mind, she was incredibly supportive. When I was working on improving the inherited house I lived in, she never once mocked the situation. Instead, she encouraged every small upgrade like it was a major milestone. When I drilled a borehole, she celebrated it like we had just bought a house in a high-end estate.

When I stabilized electricity and installed backup power, she joked that my house might become the most reliable place in the entire neighborhood. She believed in my plans even when they were still rough sketches in my head. And when someone believes in you like that, it does something dangerous. It makes you comfortable. Sometimes too comfortable.

But amidst all of these was my past. My ex who I had dated two years before I met Hinee was whatever she said she was. Talk about her thrills and "baddie" vibes. She didn't disappoint in that. Also there was something else about her that had always made our relationship complicated, but I loved the fantasy of conquering older women in bed. She was thirteen years older than me. At the time, the age gap felt exciting. She was more experienced, more confident, and far more mysterious than the women I was used to dating.

Eventually life took us in different directions. We lost contact. Years passed. I moved on. Or at least I thought I had. But then one Monday morning I boarded a train to another city for a seminar I was invited as a key note speaker, not knowing I was going to start speaking from old notes thereafter. While on board, lo and behold, my seatmate was my ex. Looking dapper with a familiar glow. We exchanged pleasantries like workplace colleagues. Civil and devoid of any iota of intimacy. We were both in a rush and all that was in our minds or my mind (let me speak for myself) was just to get to my destination on time to avoid the "African time" syndrome. We only exchanged contacts then went our separate ways. But before we parted ways she slowly whispered to my ears;

"I'm married now."

I asked her if she was for real and she answered in the affirmative.

I pressed further to be sure she wasn't just trying to prove she had changed status. She quickly rummaged her black Dior bag and brought out some rings.

"This is my wedding ring," She said with a wink. I asked how long she had been married for. She said it was approaching three years with two beautiful twin daughters and a son. I tried everything possible to control my surprise and acted like I was genuinely relating to everything she had just brought to my knowledge. We hugged sideways, exchanged contacts, then went our separate ways.

One afternoon my phone buzzed.

“Hi… felt great to have seen you the other day. You look way better than how you were before. The new girl must be doing an amazing job. How are you?” Just like that, a door I thought had been closed quietly reopened. At first, the conversations were harmless. Catching up. Talking about work. Laughing about old memories. But unfinished stories have a strange gravity. They pull people back toward places they once left. Soon we were talking every day.

Then late at night. Then about things that had nothing to do with friendship. She would sometimes hint that her marriage wasn’t what she expected. How her husband has developed a potbelly and could barely get on top her properly without the protruded tommy becoming an obstacle. How the kids refused to take her fine physique and instead took after the dad's broad nose. And I… I didn’t shut the door the way I should have. Instead, I entertained the conversation. I gave her the listening ear I shouldn't have. I gave her the shoulder I shouldn't. I gave her the mind's eye I should have used in visualizing something meaningful. The strange thing is that I never told myself I was cheating. I told myself I was managing something complicated. That was the lie I fed my own conscience. And that’s when I made the mistake that would eventually destroy everything. And the twist here was that, I wasn't even having plans of leaving my girlfriend even if my ex wasn't married. I'd have settled for being a monk if that were to be the only option.

One night curiosity mixed with stupidity. Instead of thinking carefully about what I was doing, I opened ChatGPT. Then I typed a question that now feels unbelievably reckless.

“How to keep a side relationship with a married woman perfectly.”

Looking back now, I realize something uncomfortable. I wasn’t asking for advice. I was asking for permission. Over the following weeks, I asked more questions.

"How to keep secrets."

"How to balance two relationships."

"How to avoid suspicion."

"To me, they were just prompts typed into an app." A aimless research into a world of nonsense. A projection of my imagination while seeking for validation with them.

But to Hinee, they would later read like a confession. A strategic blueprint of romantic shenanigans.

It was a quiet Thursday night. Hinee had come over because her law school exams were approaching fast. She needed a quiet place to study while also occasionally stealing glances at her boyfriend to get inspiration. Books to one side, chocolates to the other then her new Apple ipad at the centre. We had had dinner. Smoked fish with French fries and a bottle of our favourite wine. After which I decided it was bedtime but for her, she had plans for a TDB (Till Day Break) a common parlance amongst varsity students when they intend to burn the midnight candle to read till the following day. That night she was using ChatGPT to review legal concepts, case summaries, and practice questions. Around midnight her phone battery died.

“Can I use yours?” she asked.

“Yeah,” I said casually. I didn’t even look up from the movie I was watching.

That’s the dangerous thing about trust. It makes you careless.

For about twenty minutes the room was peaceful. She was scrolling through ChatGPT, asking questions related to her law exams. Then suddenly the room became… too quiet.

No typing. No scrolling. Just silence. Then she asked one question.

“Who is the married woman?”

I turned slowly. She was staring at the screen. My ChatGPT history was open.

And there it was.

“How to keep a side relationship with a married woman perfectly.”

For a few seconds neither of us spoke. Then she started scrolling. More prompts. More questions. More curiosity. Each one looked worse than the last. They seemed stupid. I couldn't even read them again because they seemed dimwitted. I tried laughing to less tension but she just looking at me with her hand supporting her chin.

“It’s just random stuff,” I said in a fruitless effort to sound smart.

But the words sounded weak even to me. Finally she looked at me.

And what I saw in her eyes was worse than anger. It was disappointment. She placed the phone gently on the bed.

“Three years,” she said quietly. Then she stood up. I began explaining desperately.

“It didn’t go far.”

“It’s not what you think.”

“I was just curious.”

But she walked toward the door like someone who had already reached a conclusion.When she got there, she turned around. “You didn’t lose me because of the married woman,” she said. Then she added something I still think about today.

“You lost me because you planned how to deceive me.” Then she left.

For days I expected anger. Arguments. A dramatic confrontation. But Hinee didn’t do any of that. She simply disappeared from my life. No calls. No messages. Nothing. Weeks later, a mutual friend told me something strange. Hinee wasn’t telling people I cheated. She wasn’t insulting me. Instead she told them something else entirely. “The scary part wasn’t the cheating,” she said. “It was that he practiced betrayal with artificial intelligence first.” Practiced betrayal. That phrase hit harder than any insult. Because it was true.

Those prompts weren’t curiosity. They were rehearsal. Months later I opened ChatGPT again. I stared at the blank screen for a long time. Then I typed a different question. “Why do people sabotage the people who love them the most?” And that’s when the truth finally hit me. I didn’t lose Hinee because of a married woman. I didn’t lose her because of ChatGPT. I lost her because one night, while preparing for her law school exams, she opened an app…

…and discovered the version of me I thought no one would ever see. Sometimes relationships don’t end because someone cheats. Sometimes they end because someone planned the betrayal first.

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Samuel Edward is a literary practitioner with over five years experience in creative writing. Some of his works are published in selected online literary journals like Authors Publish, Hiltop Digest and Dark Realities. When he's not writing, he enjoys watching the clouds move. He writes from in Uyo, Nigeria.