Does 'Processor Is My Husband' Have A Happy Ending?

"I've been looking forward to this for so long..." Under the cloak of night, I had little choice but to suffer his advances. The advances of my husband. After a night of overindulgence, where I was barely in control of my senses, I slept with him, and things snowballed from there. I had no choice but to marry him and let this stone-broke man come and mooch off my wealth. I made sure to let him see my resentment; I insulted him, belittled him, took out each and every frustration on him. But he never lost his cool. He just sat there and took it, like a meek little lamb. That is, until I started to fall for him. That's when he said he wanted a divorce. Suddenly, my meek little lamb had turned into a snarling wolf. Overnight, my family fortune evaporated, while he had been secretly building his own. Out of nowhere, I was forced to rely on the very man I had looked down on with such contempt.

Three years after getting married and striking it rich, the lady who scorned her husband's incompetence and divorced him realized afterward that he was the golden ticket she never deserved!

“She was supposed to be a sacrifice. She became his redemption.” To save her comatose mother, Emma Carter accepts a contract marriage that everyone calls a death sentence. She is sold off to Ethan Johnson—the feared "Iron Monarch" of Veridia City. Once an untouchable corporate titan, a mysterious crash left Ethan paralyzed, bitter, and trapped in a wheelchair. Abandoned by the world and surrounded by traitors, he hides behind a savage, cold facade, vowing to make his new bride’s life a living hell. They think she’s just a meek, disposable sacrifice. They don't know the truth. Behind her quiet eyes lies Dr. E.C.—a world-renowned neurological prodigy hiding her identity from dangerous enemies. In a dimly lit room, the disabled CEO glares at her, his eyes burning with dark arrogance: "What do you want from me, woman?" Emma crouches beside him, her fingers tracing the suspicious surgical scars on his legs. "Do you know your legs can be healed?" Behind locked doors, a dangerous game of secret treatments and intense cohabitation begins. As Emma helps him rebuild his strength, the bitter beast falls hopelessly devoted to his healer. And when the world tries to crush her, the rising CEO steps in front of the entire nation, his voice shaking the city: "Touch my wife, and you answer to me."

Shaina has always feel inferior to her older sister who always steal what she wants, when her first love was taken by her, Shaina decided to outshine her this once and that is to get married before her older sister does. After a night lie, she found herself entangled to Samael, a thousand years Demon who has taken interest in the human world. The Demon seeks a remedy to the growing dark power in him and after accidentally encouter with Shaina who asked him to become her husband for a night, Samael felt he has found his soulmate and his cure. Will the two different beings have a lasting love? Or will their worlds break them apart?

My husband and my best friend's husband looked exactly alike, but I never thought much of it. My husband, Cody Hill, was one of the country's top scientific researchers. Since my best friend, Ophelia Underwood, had sworn never to marry, he built an android in his own image to keep her company and take care of her. At first, I found it unsettling. But after decades passed, I gradually got used to it. Things were fine until the day of our 50th wedding anniversary. The hotel suddenly collapsed, trapping my husband and me beneath the rubble. Only then did I discover that the liquid flowing from his open wounds was blue. In the final second before another slab of concrete came crashing down, I watched him split apart before my eyes into countless precision-engineered bionic components. After I died, my soul drifted above the ruins. That's when I saw the "android" standing beside Ophelia gently wiping away her tears. In a gentle voice, he said, "She's dead. I don't have to pretend to be a robot while I stay by your side anymore." When I opened my eyes, I was 25 years old again. Inside the laboratory, two identical men stood before me. I raised my hand and pointed at one of them. "I'll take this one."

Three years of marriage, and I'd become known in our social circle as the ultimate doormat. My husband staying out all night, his silent treatment, bringing his first love home to flaunt in my face—through it all, I'd smile and make him hangover soup, keeping the house spotless. Everyone thought I loved him to the point of madness. Even he believed it. Until the day of the divorce, when he begged me with tears in his eyes not to leave—and then watched "me" collapse rigid to the floor after a power outage, revealing a charging port on the back of my neck. He lost his mind. Meanwhile, the real me was lying on a beach in the Maldives, running my fingers through the hair of a gorgeous twenty-something with a six-pack, cheerfully pressing the "factory reset" button.