Three Years After My Boyfriend's Death, I Found His Lookalike on the Black Market

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.”