ManyWriters

Jack, my boyfriend, is a high-level lust incubus allergic to ordinary people. Only his childhood sweetheart can satisfy him.
To prove his love for me, he is passionately entwined with his childhood sweetheart each time, yet calls out my name.
One day, I accidentally opened an encrypted file he had named "Eternal Love."
But what I saw was a wedding video from seven years ago, featuring him and his little childhood sweetheart.
In disbelief, I tried to drown my sorrows in alcohol, only to be slipped the most potent aphrodisiac.
As my body burned with unbearable heat, I overheard Jack and his friends laughing without restraint.
"Emily's easier to fool than a dog."
"If I can make her stay chaste for me for eight years, I can make her keep an empty bed for life."
Everyone jeered at me for being an old maid.
But some were confused.
"Bro, if you don't love Emily, why not just break up with her?"
Jack tilted his head to deeply kiss his childhood sweetheart, his gaze cold and sharp."If it weren't for her back then, Cynthia's brother would never have died. I want to punish her for Cynthia's sake for the rest of her life."
Years of affection were just his meticulously planned revenge.
My heart was shattered, and I left for three years.
Three years later, I encountered Jack again.
His body was emaciated, his eyes dim, looking as if he'd been starving for a long time. He grabbed my neck, about to kiss me.
"Emily, I'll never do anything to make you unhappy again. Can we continue our relationship?"
His eyes were full of me.
But I glanced at the little girl beside me and smiled, saying, "Jack, I've been married for a while now."

His Incubus Hunger, My Heartbreak

To appease Cynthia, Jack stayed with her all night long.


In the sweltering summer heat, Cynthia refused to turn on the air conditioning, so Jack fanned her through the night with a hand fan.


But as daylight began to break, Jack's heart grew increasingly restless.


Glancing at our photo on the nightstand in the master bedroom, Jack instinctively dialed my number.


However, I, who usually answered instantly, hadn't responded for three whole days.


"Jack, it's time for my vitamin C boost. Go squeeze me some orange juice, quick!"


From inside, Cynthia barked orders as usual.


Jack, typically obedient to her every whim, was now irritable and distracted. He coldly retorted, "What, are your hands broken?"


Then, taking his phone, he walked out to the balcony: "Where's Emily now? Haven't you found her yet?"


The person on the other end hemmed and hawed, having no leads, apologizing profusely.


Chapter 8