Love Me, Love My Corpse

The day after I died, my body was dumped in the wilderness.

The monkey-faced man held up a cooler, his grin stretching wide. "We're rich! This girl's organs are all in perfect condition."

My soul drifted above the scene, weightless and powerless, staring at my tragic fate. I had no idea how it had come to this. I only wanted to sell a kidney—just one, enough to cover Grandma's surgery.

I thought I would fade away forever, but in the blink of an eye, I was back—standing beside Quinn Hoffman.

He was at a birthday party with his fiancée. Daphne Poole smiled sweetly, her arm looped around Quinn's as she leaned shyly into him. He raised his glass for her, thanking the guests on her behalf.

Someone in the crowd teased, "So, how far along are you and Ms. Poole?"

A glow of happiness spread across Quinn's face. "We're almost there."

When those words left his lips, his gaze flickered to me. I shuddered, instinctively wanting to hide. Because in public, Quinn never let me exist in his sight.

But it lasted only a heartbeat. His eyes slid away, and he returned to socializing.

I exhaled slowly, then let out a bitter chuckle. No one could push me around anymore. After all, I was dead—a ghost. There was no way he could have seen me.

Maybe I was stuck with him because he still owed me. Maybe that was why I couldn't leave.

When I was alive, I had begged Quinn for so much. And now, even in death, I still needed one last thing. I just wanted him to visit Grandma in the hospital. That way, I could go with him.

Before I sold my kidney, they had already transferred the money. By now, the surgery must have gone smoothly, and Grandma must have been saved.

But Quinn never went. Of course, he wouldn't. He never believed a word I said. To him, Grandma's illness was just another lie, another story I made up to win his sympathy.

As the party wound down and guests began to leave the hotel, Daphne tugged at Quinn's sleeve. "Quinn, can I come over for a bit? I've been craving the coffee your housekeeper makes."

Quinn took her hand gently, his palm resting tenderly against her cheek. "Of course. Whatever you want."

He still cared about her, just like always. But his sweetheart was about to be disappointed. She was never going to taste that coffee again. Because the one who used to make it—me—was already dead.

…

I became the Hoffmans' housekeeper for one reason—to earn the money that was rightfully mine.

That day, I went to the shore, just like always, to pull in the fishing nets. But when I hauled them up, I caught more than just fish.

There was a man tangled in the net—a stranger, shirtless and covered in wounds, with no memory of who he was.

The local fishermen called him Rocky because of his strong, muscular build.

"Kayla, it looks like you just fished yourself a boyfriend!" they teased.

I glanced at Quinn's sharp, handsome features and felt my face heat up. But I quickly wiped away the thought, forcing my expression back to normal. "Don't be ridiculous. I was just saving a life."

They hadn't meant anything by it, but Quinn seemed to take it seriously.

Whenever I went out to fish, he stayed home, helping Grandma cook and do the laundry. And when I came back, he was always there, tending to everything for me.

Later, he begged me to take him out to sea. He said the heavy lifting should be a man's job.

Quinn learned quickly, and before long, he became the driving force behind the work. His once fair skin deepened to a healthy tan under the sun and sea breeze. His hands, which had never known hard labor, slowly grew calloused.

Watching him change like this, an inexplicable guilt welled up inside me. It felt as if I had stolen the life he was meant to have.

So, Grandma and I talked it over and decided to use our savings to get Quinn treatment for his amnesia.

When I told him, he panicked. Quinn cupped my face in his hands and kissed me. "Kay, are you trying to get rid of me? I don't want to leave. I want to stay with you forever."

I stroked his face, trying to calm him. "If you love me, then even after you get your memories back, we'll still be together."

Quinn nodded firmly. "I do, Kay. I love you."

For over half a year, I took Quinn back and forth between the fishing village and different hospitals. To save as much money as possible, we traveled by whatever means we could.

More than once, on a crowded bus, Quinn held me in his arms as I dozed off in exhaustion. "Kay, this is too hard on you. Let's stop the treatment."

But I shook my head. We had come this far, so I had to see it through.

Maybe god took pity on us because just as we were about to run out of savings, a miracle happened.

Quinn's memory returned. But at the same time, he disappeared from the hospital and vanished without a trace.

That year with Quinn felt like a dream, but the empty balance in my bank account was a constant reminder. Not only had I lost him, but I had lost everything.