After My Death, My Husband Replaced Me With A Humanoid

After I died, a humanoid robot took my place and stayed by my husband’s side.

Edward didn’t notice anything strange about me.

Every day, he spent time with his first love, Sophia, just to enjoy watching me suffer—longing, desperate, and hysterical.

But a machine can’t mimic human emotions. It could only interpret my love for Edward as following a set of commands.

It didn’t understand jealousy, nor could it feel anger.

Until one day, Sophia pushed me off the balcony of the Penthouse. My metal frame twisted from the impact.

Edward rushed over. For the first time, he was close enough to me, just one look away from realising something was wrong.

1

A loud crash echoed through the room.

Edward dropped his glass and rushed over.

But when he saw me lying there, his worry quickly morphed into disgust.

The one who pushed me, Sophia, stood at the top of the stairs, feigning tears as she began her act.

“Edward, Emma reached out to push me, but she slipped and fell herself.”

Edward didn’t spare me a glance, striding straight over to Sophia.

“Are you all right, Sophia? You didn’t get hurt, did you?”

He checked her thoroughly, and after confirming that not a single hair on his beloved’s head was out of place, he finally exhaled in relief.

Then, in a show of rare condescension, he turned to look at me.

I was sprawled on the floor in a terribly undignified position, motionless.

“Emma Parker, you’re as stupid as you are cruel! Crawling around on the floor like a dog—what, did you think this would make me care about you? That I’d pay you some attention?”

He’d clearly seen the slight dent in the floor where I’d landed, but there wasn’t even a hint of concern in his eyes.

When I didn’t move, he shouted, irritated, “Stop playing dead! Do you think pretending will make me feel guilty? Get up and apologise to Sophia!”

I heard his command, my head twitched slightly, but then I let it fall back down.

Edward’s expression darkened.

“Emma Parker, stop testing my patience! Apologise to Sophia, or I’ll personally have you thrown into a cell!”

He stood over me, certain I’d obey as I always had.

But I stayed down, motionless except for a faint twitch in my leg.

Sophia, playing the part of a concerned friend, chimed in, “Edward, maybe you should check on her? What if something’s really wrong?”

Despite her words, she remained clinging tightly to Edward, making no effort to move.

Edward let out a cold laugh, indifferent.

“She didn’t even cry out. She’ll be fine. It’s just the fifth floor, she’s not dead—maybe crippled at worst. And if anything has happened, well, she’s brought it on herself.”

There was such venom in his voice, so much malice. If he could, I’m sure he would have been delighted to see me die right there.

Unfortunately for him, he was bound to be disappointed.

Because the one lying on the floor wasn’t the real me. It was just a humanoid robot, almost indistinguishable from the real thing.

Of course, the machine didn’t scream in pain. It didn’t feel pain. And it couldn’t die.

Though my soul was bound to the robot, I couldn’t control it.

It was sophisticated enough to function on its own—it had only crashed due to the severe impact.

2

The system rebooted quickly.

“You could drop dead, and I still wouldn’t feel like looking at you. No matter how much you act, I’ll never come down to help.”

As Edward spat out those words, I slowly rose, though my right leg was grotesquely twisted.

This odd movement only made him more certain I was putting on a performance, and he lifted his chin, satisfied with himself.

Sophia gasped dramatically. “Edward, look at Emma’s leg—it looks so strange!”

“She’s only broken a bone, that’s all. Dogs can break a leg and be fine in a few days. She’s hardly worse than an animal.”

Edward’s remark made Sophia laugh, and she giggled uncontrollably.

“Yes, and Emma has a knack for escaping death. You saved her after that lorry accident, and now she’s fallen from the penthouse without a scratch!”

As she spoke, Edward’s face grew darker, his hatred for me barely contained.

I knew he’d always regretted saving me.

The day he sent Sophia off to study abroad, I learned for the first time that she was the one he couldn’t let go of.

Distracted by the news, I hadn’t noticed the lorry speeding toward me. He acted on impulse, pushing me out of the way, but in the end, it was his legs that were crushed.

For a professional ballroom dancer, losing your legs was worse than death.

Every day after that, Edward’s resentment for me grew.

“She’s no miracle survivor—she’s a bloody curse. First, she cost me my legs, and now she wants to take you away too!”

His anger boiled over, and he kicked me hard in the leg. My already misshapen limb bent even further, emitting a faint crackling noise.

Edward paused, suspicious, but the sound soon stopped.

He composed himself again and barked, “Go and make some tea for Sophia to apologise.”

I nodded obediently and hobbled to fetch the tea.

Sophia turned her nose up as I approached, clinging to Edward’s arm like a spoiled child.

“Edward, I don’t think Emma’s really sorry. She brought me cold tea, after all. I want it scalding hot.”

I went back, prepared fresh tea, and brought it to her again. This time, she intentionally let go of the cup.

“Oh no!”

Even though the entire cup spilled onto my leg, it was Sophia who cried out in distress.

“Edward, my leg! I think I’ve been burned!”

Edward hurriedly rolled up her trouser leg, revealing nothing more than a faint red mark on her smooth skin.

“Emma Parker, you did that on purpose, didn’t you?!”

I stared blankly at the synthetic skin on my own leg, where the hot tea had scalded me, and muttered numbly, “It wasn’t on purpose.”

Sophia, pretending not to hear, sobbed louder. “Emma, I know you don’t like me, but this is too much! You’re just jealous that Edward and I can still dance ballroom together, aren’t you? Fine, I won’t dance with him anymore.”

Edward was fuming, desperate to console her, and in his rage, he slapped me hard acros...