The Robot Wife He Never Knew

When I was alive, Serena and I hated each other's guts.

I knew she was the phantom haunting my marriage, so I fought her at every turn. We even got into physical altercations.

But whenever we clashed, Ethan always took her side. He coddled her, trusted her implicitly, and painted me as the hysterical villain.

I used to scream myself hoarse, accusing him of emotional infidelity and begging him to cut Serena out of his life for good. All I got in return was his deepening resentment and his increasingly frequent absences from home.

By the time I was diagnosed with a terminal illness, the fire in my heart had already burned out. Fighting felt pointless.

Now, like a ghost trapped in a machine, I felt almost nothing at all.

After dinner, Ethan ordered "me" to brew some Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee. "I" handed Serena a cup, but she claimed it wasn't hot enough.

Following Ethan's instructions, "I" went back and poured a cup of boiling hot water. While Ethan stepped away to take a business call, Serena "accidentally" threw the boiling water right in "my" face.

Now, following Ethan's previous orders, "I" was walking down the hallway to the master bedroom to change out of the stained dress.

I heard his gentle voice coming from behind me: "Did the coffee burn your hand?"

I paused, a bitter laugh echoing in my mind. He only ever used that tender tone with Serena.

"I'm fine, Ethan. But Chloe's eye looks really bad. It's all my fault, I didn't see her kneeling there."

"Because she's an idiot," Ethan replied, his voice dripping with malice. "She's practically thirty. If she sees something dangerous coming at her, she should know enough to get out of the way."

Listen to him. Serena threw it on purpose, yet he blamed me for being too stupid to dodge. The mental gymnastics he performed to protect her were truly astounding.

I walked slowly into the master bedroom, opened the closet, and took out a clean dress. With my back to the door, I unzipped the ruined dress, letting it slip to the floor, standing there in only my underwear.

Just as "I" reached for the clean clothes, the bedroom door clicked open.

Ethan walked in.

Before I could process it, he stepped up behind me. His large, warm hands grabbed "my" waist. Suddenly, with a forceful yank, he spun me around and pinned me tightly against his chest.