Giving Love Another Try

They scoffed at women who clung to their dignity despite their desperation.

I stood up to leave, but Beau grabbed my hand and pulled me back.

With a sulky glint in his eye, he grasped my chin, forcing me to down a glass of wine.

I already had a high fever, and the cold wine flowed down my mouth into my chest, stimulating me and making me shiver.

The burning sensation of the alcohol spread from my throat to my stomach, making it hard for me to breathe.

It took me a long time to break free from his shackles. I grabbed an empty wine glass and hurled it at him.

Unfortunately, I didn't have the strength and the glass only grazed his calf.

Beau's stunned expression transformed into rage.

I ignored him and turned away.

I didn't go to the hospital and went straight home.

The story had reached its end.

"Host's will to live has been lost. Plot collapsed. The fifth attempt was declared a failure. Soul stripping program initiated..."

I pursued Beau five times, each more arduous than the last.

The first time, I was his childhood sweetheart, but he finally fell in love with someone else.

The second time, I became his first love, but he fell in love with my substitute.

The third time, I turned into his naive secretary, and he didn't like women.

The fourth time, I gave up the task, but the system punished me, cutting my life short.

This time, Beau's temperament changed drastically, and his dead sweetheart added an extra layer of obstacles.

I could endure his bad temper and no sympathy for the poor and weak.

But I couldn't bear he had another woman.

I felt disgusting.

I was brought back by Beau from his trip to the mountains. He was stunned when he saw me. He then asked me to be with him.

When did I discover that he had a first love?

Every time we made love, he would use his fingers to cover the teardrop mole at the end of my right eye, the mole that I had longed to remove since I was a child.

"It stung," he said.

Sensitively catching the dissimilarity, I asked tentatively, "Then should I remove it?"

Beau suddenly became violent, pinched my chin hard, and said fiercely, "No, you are not allowed to remove it. Do you hear me? You can never be her."

Her?

Through Haley, I learned that during Beau's college days, a girl had sacrificed herself to save him, and he would visit her grave every year to mourn her.

Haley said, "To value love is a virtue. But for Mr. Lewis to treat others as stand-ins is a disgrace to the gentleman's demeanor."

I realized that I might have resembled her if not for the mole.

But the living couldn't compete with the dead.

However, at that time, I was stubborn and believed in the power of habit.

I thought Beau would grow accustomed to me and never let me go.

I realized when a man despised you and looked down on you from the bottom of his heart, he treated you as a rag that could be discarded at any time.

All Beau valued was a face, an obedient and well-behaved substitute.

I was not.

After leaving my host's body, I did not leave this world.

I returned to Beau in the form of a soul to collect data.

He sat at the bar, expressionless, his thoughts drifting. His fingers tapped lightly on his knee.

I knew he was angry.