Three Years After My Boyfriend’s Death I picked up a man from the black market who looked exactly like him. Day after day, I carefully trained him. Hoping he could become a perfect substitute. To replace the deceased Jack. To become my lover. “Don’t eat tomatoes anymore. He didn’t like them,” I instructed. “Don’t call me ‘bro’. He never called me that,” I corrected. “Be good, okay? You look so much like him… I won’t abandon you,” I promised. I always treated him as just a suitable replacement. Until one night. In the hazy darkness. The person who should have been sleeping beside me suddenly reached out and forcefully gripped my neck. “You liar,” he growled. “Didn’t you say you’d only love me for life?” “Yet I’ve barely been dead three years and you’re already looking for a substitute.” “No matter how similar someone else is, they’re not me…” “Liar!!” In the seventh year of my relationship with Jack. He suddenly died. There was no body, not even ashes. Just his subordinate stopping his car in front of me. With a solemn expression, handing me a pocket watch Jack had left behind. Along with the words: “Mr. Shen, please accept our condolences.” I took the watch with an expressionless face. Suddenly remembering the day Jack left. He had already walked to the entryway. Then abruptly turned back. Cupping my face in his hands, he gently kissed my forehead. “I’m really leaving,” he said, his dark pupils reflecting a glint of light. He slowly stroked my hair: “Will you miss me?” I’ve always been difficult with expressing emotions. Except for those uncontrollable moments at night in bed, I could rarely say words like “love”, “like”, or “miss”. So I turned my face away. Coldly telling him: “I won’t.” “What’s there to miss about you?” It was just a business trip, he’d be back in a few days. We’re adults, there’s no need to be so clingy. “…So heartless.” Jack smiled and sighed, his eyes showing a mix of real and feigned disappointment. “Alright, it’s okay.” He didn’t press further, leaning in to brush his soft, cool lips very lightly against the corner of my mouth. “It’s fine if you don’t miss me.” “I’ll miss you.” “Be good and wait for me at home. I’ll be back soon.”
“I’ll be back soon.” But he never came back. I stared at the watch lying silently in my palm. It was the birthday gift I had given Jack last year. He seemed very happy when he received it that day. He hugged me from behind with one arm around my waist, resting his chin on my shoulder, using his free hand to play with the pocket watch. After a while, he suddenly bit my neck like a puppy and said to me: “It’s beautiful.” “I love it.” “And I love you. You’re even more beautiful.” I didn’t turn around. His hand moved up, skillfully and swiftly starting to unbutton my shirt collar. … Who would have thought, less than a year later. This pocket watch would return to my hands in this way. As Jack’s posthumous belonging. My heart felt like it was being pricked by countless needles, a dense pain spreading. I unconsciously bit my lower lip hard, tasting blood. A moment later, I suddenly looked up and smiled at Jack’s subordinate. “Condolences? What do I have to grieve about?” “He’s dead, so he’s dead,” I paused, as if genuinely puzzled. “Is that something worth being sad over?” Probably no one expected my words could be so harsh. No one managed to see anything resembling sadness on my face after Jack’s death. I had long been accustomed to disguising myself. Those few subordinates seemed slightly taken aback. But in the end, they said nothing, bowed to me, and drove away.
After that, I sealed away the pocket watch and never looked at it again. Three more hazy years passed. In between, when gathering or socializing with those fair-weather friends and business partners, people would repeatedly bring up Jack while raising their glasses in front of me: “I have to say, Mr. Shen, you really are cold-hearted.” “Although I don’t quite understand that kind of relationship between two men. But you and Jack were together for what, seven years?” “He died just like that in a car accident, and you don’t seem the least bit upset these past few years.” What nonsense. How could I not be upset? Every time I opened and closed my eyes I could see Jack. Even in my dreams, it was still him. But on the surface, I remained unmoved. I took a sip from the glass in front of me and casually said, “What do I have to be upset about?” “Jack and I… were only together for business reasons.” “It’s good that he’s dead… clean,” I said. As soon as the words left my mouth, several people around seemed stunned. I smiled carelessly, clinked my glass with the person opposite me. Then threw back the last bit of liquor left in the glass. “Think about it, with no one to control me anymore, how free am I now, right?” “No more of this clingy guy by my side every day getting jealous over nothing, upset for hours if I so much as glanced at another handsome man. The way I am now, how carefree, don’t you think?” I lowered my head and smiled: “Besides, he left behind quite a large inheritance.” “If I just focused on grieving, it would be quite a waste of all that money. Don’t you agree?” The air grew increasingly tense. I looked around. Guessing that though these people were silent now, as soon as they left they would surely spread rumors. Saying I had long grown tired of Jack, that I had only been with him those years for his money and power. Now that he died unexpectedly, it suited me perfectly. They didn’t know how happy I must be inside. It seemed like a very long time passed. Finally someone slapped their thigh, breaking the awkward atmosphere: “Right, exactly! Whether it was true love or not, the person’s already gone, it’s all in the past, why keep bringing it up?” “If you ask me,” the person turned back to look at me, “Mr. Shen. I happen to be going to the C3 district tomorrow, there are quite a few handsome young men there. Why don’t you come along and take a look, if you fancy anyone, just bring one back?” I glanced at him, not taking the bait. I picked up another glass of alcohol from the table in front of me.
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