The Robot Wife He Never Knew

Before I died, I used my life's work in robotics to build a bionic replica of myself for my husband.

She had my exact face and body, but none of my temper. She never threw tantrums, never picked fights, and never raised her voice.

Yet my husband, Ethan, had no idea she was actually a machine.

He despised "my" newly submissive and obedient attitude. To provoke me, he constantly brought women home, desperately trying to drive me mad with jealousy. But he never succeeded.

Until one day, his first love-the one who had once walked out on him-threw a cup of scalding coffee right in "my" face.

To Ethan's astonishment, not only did I not scream in pain, but my skin didn't even turn red.

He finally realized that I was already dead.

Chapter 1

Chloe's POV:

The scalding liquid splashed across my face.

I blinked, letting the dark coffee drip down my cheeks.

The young woman holding the empty mug gasped, dramatically covering her mouth in feigned horror. "Oh my god! I'm so sorry! The mug just slipped!"

Her name was Serena. She was Ethan's college sweetheart, the irreplaceable "white swan" of his life.

As "I" stood there in silence, Serena's eyes immediately welled up with tears. "Chloe, don't glare at me like that! I swear, it was just an accident. Ethan, tell her!"

My husband, Ethan, strode over. His face was twisted in disgust, his gaze locked entirely on me.

"She didn't mean it, Chloe. Stop staring at her like a psycho," he snapped. "It's just a cup of coffee. It's not going to kill you. Stop playing the victim for sympathy."

There wasn't a shred of concern in his eyes. His gaze dropped to "my" white dress, now ruined by a massive brown stain. It was glaringly obvious that the mug had been hurled directly at my chest. It was no accident.

Yet, his expression remained cold. "Cut the act and go upstairs to change. You look disgusting."

He fully expected me to explode. He expected me to scream, to point fingers, or at the very least, to turn and run off sobbing in humiliation.

After all, Serena's bullying today had crossed a massive line.

But after a long stretch of silence, "I" gave no reaction whatsoever.

Ethan lost his temper. He raised his voice, his face flushing red. "Chloe! I told you to go upstairs and change right now! Stop pushing my buttons!"

Seeing his anger, Serena quickly tugged at his sleeve. "Ethan, don't yell at her. It's my fault. Do you think I burned her?"

Ethan wrapped an arm around her waist protectively. "Please. Her skin is thicker than a brick wall. Even if you threw boiling water in her face, she wouldn't bat an eye."

He was right. Even if boiling water were thrown in "my" face, I wouldn't react.

Because the woman standing in front of them, wearing my exact face, wasn't me. It was a cutting-edge bionic android I had designed using my life's work as an AI engineer.

The real me had died of cancer three years ago.

The strange thing was, after I took my last breath, my consciousness didn't fade away.

My soul somehow tethered itself to that android. But I was merely a passenger, completely unable to control its actions.

The android was programmed with top-tier behavioral algorithms, designed entirely around the ultimate directive of being the "perfect, submissive wife." For three years, she had stayed quietly by Ethan's side, "obedient and docile," and he had never suspected a thing.

But today, it seemed her hardware was starting to glitch.

Chloe's POV:

The scalding coffee seeped into the micro-crevices around my eyes and lips, temporarily short-circuiting a secondary motherboard. The system was running diagnostics and reboot protocols, forcing the body into a brief standby mode.

Ethan was completely oblivious. He just assumed this was another one of "my" ploys-a stunt to grab his attention.

"Do you really think acting all pathetic is going to make me feel sorry for you, Chloe? Look in the mirror. You look like a freak."

Amidst his sneers, "my" system finally rebooted, and motor functions were restored.

However, the coffee had damaged the optical sensor in my left eye. The artificial sclera was now glowing with an unnatural red light.

"Ethan, look at Chloe's eye... it's so red. Did I really burn her?" Serena asked, her tone dripping with fake innocence.

"Ignore her. How hot can a cup of coffee be? She's probably just holding her breath to make her eyes bloodshot so you'll feel guilty," Ethan scoffed, stripping away whatever tiny shred of dignity I had left.

The android had no feelings; it couldn't feel pain.

But I could. My soul felt the sorrow.

"Walking around putting on an act like you're so forgiving... I guess you do get mad after all! Don't worry about her, Serena. Even if she goes blind in one eye, she still has the other. She'll live." Ethan's voice was laced with malice. He stared intently at me, desperately trying to find proof of jealousy on my face.

Serena covered her mouth and giggled. "Ethan, you're awful! If she only has one eye, she'll look like a pirate!"

Her mocking laughter echoed through the room.

Ethan heard it, but he couldn't have cared less. His only goal was to break me down, to humiliate me. Especially in front of the woman he loved.

Emboldened by Ethan's callousness, Serena walked right up to "me," grabbed a napkin, and roughly smeared it across "my" coffee-stained face.

"Oops, my bad, Chloe. I think I just made it worse!"

She leaned in close, staring straight into my glowing red eye. "Are you really okay? You look spaced out. Did I blind you just now?"

Ethan finally glanced at my eye. The sclera had turned a crystalline LED red; it didn't look human. But he just grimaced, as if he were looking at a dead bug.

"If only she were blind. Then she wouldn't be able to stare at me with those pathetic, puppy-dog eyes anymore," he muttered, glancing at the shattered mug on the hardwood floor. "Shame about the coffee. I imported those Jamaican Blue Mountain beans just for you, Serena. What a waste."

I had always known Serena was the love of his life.

But I never imagined that, to him, one of my eyes was worth less than a cup of imported coffee.

All my years of love and sacrifice had turned into the sharpest knife, plunging straight into my heart.

"Chloe! Could you say something? Or are you completely mute now?" Failing to find any sign of anger from me only infuriated Ethan further.

But then, he seemed to realize he was overreacting. So, he quickly found an excuse for his rage. "Look how pale Serena is. You scared her! Apologize to her right now, and we'll let this go. Otherwise, we're done."

My soul trembled with rage.

Listen to him. Was he even human?

She threw scalding coffee on me, damaged my eye, and I was supposed to apologize?

Even if I wanted to fight back, I couldn't override the android's programming. But fortunately, "my" voice processor had been water-damaged.

For the first time, "I" failed to execute Ethan's direct command. "I" opened my mouth, but only a faint crackling sound came out. I did not apologize.

Ethan's face instantly darkened.

"Chloe, are you playing deaf and mute now? Are you pissed off because I brought Serena home? If you have a problem, just say it! Stop playing this flawless, submissive victim! It makes me sick!"

He completely dropped his usual charming facade. He looked genuinely unhinged.

But I knew exactly why he was so furious.

I had been deeply infatuated with Ethan since our freshman year of college. He was tall, handsome, outgoing, and friendly. Whenever he played basketball, every girl in the bleachers swooned over him-including me.

But I was just an average girl. I never dared to confess my feelings.

Everything changed the night of our graduation party.

He had too much to drink. He grabbed my hand in a crowded room, pulled me into a dimly lit VIP booth, and kissed me through a masquerade mask.

I had loved him for years. One thing naturally led to another.

But the next morning, when the sun came up and he saw my face, he bolted out the door looking like he'd seen a ghost.

Terrified and heartbroken, it took me days to track him down.

To my utter shock, he told me he wanted to take responsibility. He proposed. I was ecstatic; my life felt like a fairy tale.

It wasn't until much later that I learned the truth: Serena had dumped him and moved to Paris. Devastated, he just picked a random girl to marry as a rebound to numb the pain.

After we got married, I could never let go of my jealousy over Serena.

We fought constantly. Our relationship deteriorated until he practically moved into his office.

And then, I died.

And that submissive android took my place.

She yielded to his every whim.

Immensely frustrated, Ethan started bringing women home. He flirted, kissed, and touched them right in front of "me," trying to provoke the hot-tempered, jealous wife he remembered.

But he failed. Because "I" was nothing more than a machine.

The android's core directive was simple: love Ethan unconditionally and obey all commands.

So, "I" showed zero anger or jealousy.

Instead, "I" would politely greet his mistresses at the door. "I" would even brew tea and pour it for them while they cuddled on the sofa.

Wasn't this exactly the kind of woman Ethan always claimed he wanted? Submissive, understanding, drama-free, and never nagging?

He had the perfect wife he asked for. So why was he still so angry?