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I Kiss You Like She Did When You Miss Her Novel Cover

I Kiss You Like She Did When You Miss Her

Ever since Oscar-winning actress Bernadette Deschanel abandoned the wealthy Russell Rowlett, he has been obsessed with creating her perfect replica. Because of a seventy-percent facial resemblance, I am trapped in his dark basement theater, forced to mimic his first love's every movement and breath. Russell's demands are cruel and absolute; he starves me and subjects me to his cold fury whenever my performance falters. While Bernadette shines in the spotlight, I am just an insignificant shadow.
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Chapter 8

“Russell, are you even a man?”

Oh, no, I actually said it out loud! How could I blurt out something like that?

The regret hit me instantly.

Russell locked eyes with me, the flush on his face fading fast. “Wow, where did you get the guts to say that?”

I shrank back, too scared to say another word.

I had to be crazy to make this kind of demand. And the worst part? I wasn’t even asking for money—I was asking for him. Forget about how he felt—I couldn’t even accept it myself.

He casually reached out, playing with my messy hair. “So, you want me to be a man? Tell me, what exactly do you want this man to do to you?”

I couldn’t look him in the eyes. He already knew what I was thinking.

When I didn’t answer, his expression suddenly turned cold. “If you’re that desperate for a man, go find one elsewhere. I’m not interested.”

I forced myself to speak. “I’m your woman. And you’re telling me to go find someone else?”

Russell had already turned to leave, but when he heard that, he stopped and stepped back. “My woman?”

“Yeah. Everyone in the business world knows we live together.”

He let out a mocking laugh. “So what? If you sneak around behind my back, I won’t say a word. I’ll just turn a blind eye. Whatever makes you happy.”

Why did that sound like a threat? No, I must be overthinking it. What he really meant was—he didn’t care at all what someone like me did.

“You’d be fine with me running around messing with other men while looking like this?” This was my trump card.

At the very least, I had a face that looked 70% like his dear Best Actress.

Russell laughed even harder, completely unbothered. “You don’t actually think I keep you around just so I can see her face every day, do you?”

“Isn’t that exactly why?”

He chuckled but didn’t bother answering. He just turned and walked away.

Fair enough. A pretty face isn’t enough—you need the acting skills to match. If all he wanted was her face, he wouldn’t be this obsessed.

That said, I’ve never really understood what it is about that actress he loves so much. Probably more than just one thing. Ugh, I really want to meet her!

My whole body felt weak as I collapsed into my seat.

Making sure no one was around, I finally let go and broke down crying. The tears streamed down my face like a broken necklace, completely unstoppable. If there were a camera on me right now, I’d probably look like one of those tragic beauties, heartbreakingly stunning.

Too bad Russell didn’t know—my acting coach always said my crying scenes were my biggest weakness.

“Why do you cry like that? It’s like… you just ate shit.”

“Uh, sir, have you eaten shit before?”

“It’s a metaphor! I mean your crying is horrible. Go look in a mirror and try again.”

“Why should I? I never liked crying even when I was younger. When I run into a problem, I solve it. Crying doesn’t fix anything.”

“That’s not the point. Crying is a weapon, don’t you get it?”

“Is that so?”

“Anyway, you need to work on your crying scenes. A good actor who can cry on command? That’s real talent.”

“Oh.”

“With emotion! Now, get in the zone!”

That Best Actress could cry on cue, tears falling in exactly three seconds, and even control which eye they came from. Meanwhile, if there was even one person around, I couldn’t shed a single tear.

No matter how hard I tried to recall the worst moments of my life—like when my dad passed away in college, or how my mom remarried her first love right after and had a new son, or how Russell had shattered my heart over and over again—none of it worked.

I never thought I’d still be shedding tears for this heartless man.

Do I still love him? No way.

Would he ever love anyone besides that actress?

Maybe—but definitely not me.

I wiped my tears away. At some point, Mrs. Dunst appeared at the door.

“Ma’am, Sir Russell is calling for you.”

“Oh, I’ll be right there.”

“Do you still want to watch the film? Should I pause it here?”

I shot the most venomous glare at the actress on the big screen. She had just witnessed all my humiliation. Even though she wasn’t physically present, her brilliance still managed to cast a shadow over my misery.

“No. Turn it off.”

She looked down at me from above, cold and untouchable, while I remained trapped in some nameless corner, tortured by the man I loved. Whether she had done anything to me personally didn’t matter—I’d be living in her shadow for the rest of my life!

“Mr. Grammer has arrived,” Mrs. Dunst continued, “and he brought his new girlfriend. She—”

She?

I frowned and followed her gaze.

On the big screen, the actress smiled—a breathtaking, charming smile.

Oh my God. Sherman’s girlfriend… is her? The Best Actress?

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