LOGIN
ERIC:
My eyes fluttered open in the hospital. My mother, head bowed, was praying and weeping. I had survived. Her prayers worked. I had escaped death…against my wish. Since I couldn’t talk because of the stitches and the bandage around my neck, I placed the only hand without plaster on hers. She lifted her head. The moment she saw me awake, she sniffled a deep cry…her stare screaming both disappointment and relief. I felt sorry for her. I had done that without thinking of her. I acted selfishly. And sadly, I was about to act for myself again. I couldn’t stay. The bullying and condemnation were one thing, but existing in the same city with Leonard, yet never being able to reach him? Impossible. The second she left the ward to get the doctor, I grabbed the phone she left on the bedside locker and bolted. Wearing the hospital uniform, I flagged a cab to a hotel. Determined to stay miles away from my past, I left the continent and took a one-way flight to Africa. Five years later, with a new identity and a new life, I was moving on. Existing. Doing better. “George!” Chuks shouted. I halted mid-scoop, horse poop half-lifted in the pail, and glanced through the wooden window to see Chuks waving at me with his usual bright smile. Wearing yellow boots, he started toward me—always coming to help, always there for me. George? That’s me. From the airport, five years ago, Chuks had been the cab driver I hired. He was lively, full of talks. While chatting, I told him I needed a place to stay long-term and a job. That was how he brought me here: a farm with free accommodation, good pay, but a ridiculous workload. Except Chuks made everything easier. Adaptable. Bearable. He worked here too, taking driving jobs only when necessary. “It’s going to get busier soon,” he said, already helping me scoop. I knew. The horse race was in a week. The preparation was always overwhelming. More horses brought in. Lodges renovated. Everyone working overtime. “Heard some rich guest is coming. He rented the VVIP room.” The race was international. Rich guests from all over the globe attended every year. And each year, the VVIP room was rented. So I didn’t understand his fuss. “The room is always rented,” I said. “It has never been prepared like this,” he insisted. “New bed frame. New sheets. New everything.” “He must be a god.” “A zillionaire. His net worth peaked three years ago. He’s filthy rich. He’s more than a god. I hope they assign me to serve him.” For VVIP and VIP guests, workers were assigned to serve them for the entire month. I hoped they forgot my name this year. I wasn’t in the mood to serve anyone. I just wanted to enjoy the race and tend the horses. “Are you free this evening?” Then he asked—in that tone that made my stomach twist. One year after my arrival, Chuks had asked me out. The word dating triggered a panic attack so severe that I hyperventilated until I passed out. He never asked again…but his intentions were always clear. Obvious enough that everyone thought we were dating. And honestly…I had been considering giving it a try. It had been five years. I had received my due punishment. It wasn’t like I was leaving anytime soon, or Leonard was going to appear out of nowhere and forgive me. It was time to try something hearty. And Chuks? He wasn’t anything extraordinary—just kind, funny, and someone who made me happy. I could be happy with him. “I can be free,” I said. He smiled. “Let’s go see a movie?” “Okay. But I get to pick.” He laughed. He knew why. His movie taste was horrible. While dressing up, my heart drifted toward Leonard—where it shouldn’t. That date. The moment that turned my once-perfect relationship into nightmare. I wondered how he was doing. How he moved past my betrayal. What his life looked like now. I could find out easily. He was everywhere online. But for five years, I had denied myself the urge to look at him. I lost him. Surfing about him would only hurt more. “George?” Chuks called from outside. George. George was fake. If I wanted something real with Chuks, I needed to tell him the truth about me. About Eric. No more lying. No more hidden identity. I stepped outside, and he froze. “You’re…beautiful.” With pride. Age had forgotten me. At thirty-eight, I still looked young. But Chuks was exaggerating. I hadn’t even dressed up—just casual clothes to avoid awkwardness. The movie went well. We strolled back toward the range, then sat on a concrete block outside the farm gate. Crickets filled the night…and mosquitoes tried to murder me. “Does it still hurt?” he asked suddenly. He didn’t need to clarify. Only a shattered heart reacts the way I did when he asked me out years ago. “It will never stop hurting,” I said honestly. He nodded slowly. “You loved him.” “I love him,” I corrected. He shifted, anxious. “He is a good man. I broke his heart. He hates me now. But I can’t shut my heart.” “Do you think you can love another?” “I want to try.” He smiled weakly. “I like you, George. I want you to try with me.” “Chuks, I—” “Please think before you turn me down,” he blurted. I laughed softly. “Why would I do that?” “You won’t?” “I like you too. But there’s—” He kissed me, cutting me off. “Can you leave any ‘buts’ for tonight?” he whispered against my lips. I nodded…and he kissed me again, deep and steady. No ‘buts’ last night. But there would be this morning. He needed to hear everything. Except Mr. Phil, the farm owner, pulled me out of the walk to Chuks’ room and invited me to his office. “Am I in trouble, Mr. Phil?” I asked. He paused mid-step. “I’m the one in trouble,” he said, fidgeting. “Okay?” “He’s here.” “…” “The VVIP. He arrived too early.” Oh. “And why is that trouble?” “I’m shy,” he giggled suddenly, covering his mouth. “I prepared for next week…not now. I can’t stand his aura. I need help to face him.” Ask me about Mr. Phil later. I need to investigate him. I didn’t know how the most prominent businessman in the country could be wetting his pants over another businessman. “I can help,” I said brightly. “Only if you remove my name from the serving list.” “I’ll increase your salary too. Just go welcome him and give him a reason to stay and come back next year.” We walked toward his office…and I swear…I felt a familiar presence. “Are you okay?” Mr. Phil asked. “I’m…fine.” “Take a day off after you settle our guest.” I nodded. I would need it. After that sudden wave of Leonard’s presence, I needed time to breathe. “Mr. Hays,” Mr. Phil cheered as we entered. I froze at the doorway, staring at those broad shoulders. “George here will tell you everything you need to know about the farm and the game.” Leonard turned. I gasped. My heart slammed against my ribs at once. He stayed composed. Unsurprised. Unaffected. As if he didn’t recognise me. “George,” he said—voice even deeper than I remembered. “I’m Leonard. Nice to meet you.”ERICA: Four months into my sessions with Dr. Freud, she testified that I was improving faster than she had ever recorded. By the seventh month, she almost marked my time as over. However, Lucas didn’t believe in my progress. Everything I did was doubted. Every love confession was dismissed and still tagged as DPD. His attitude started to bother me, then it slipped into sadness, and eventually turned into anger. He was there, yes. After all, we lived together. The textile business was also booming. In only two months, after he took over the company’s finance and projects, Gerux’s clothing stores multiplied, spreading across nearly every region in the country. His advice to venture into duvets and sheets was the best project of the month. Within a week, our new product had surpassed the market value. Thanks to Leonard and his patronage, our products filled his entire hotel room, giving us the visibility we hadn’t publicised. Guests who enjoyed the comfort kept ordering more, and soo
ERICA: Lucas struggled against my hold, turning his face from side to side, but desperation made me cling harder. My lips chased his, refusing to let go. With a strong grip, he shoved me off him. The movement tore his lip; a thin streak of blood appeared, and he groaned as he pressed his fingers against it. He let out a hoarse, broken yell and turned away, raking his hands through the air like a man fighting himself more than me. “Lucas?” My voice trembled. “Shut up!” he barked, his back still to me. I swallowed hard, my breath quick and unsteady. I knew I could stay and try to talk to him…but the storm inside me was beyond words. I was burning from the inside out, like something in me would crack open if I didn’t orgasm. I turned and continued down the stairs. His hand caught my wrist again. “Where are you going?” “To get what I need,” I said, jerking my arm free. “Erica…” His voice broke, thick with something close to tears. “Don’t do this.” “I’m losing my mind, Lucas,” I
ERICA: After a long video chat with Lucas’s mother’s therapist, Dr. Freud, she confirmed Lucas wasn’t wrong. I showed clear signs of DPD—symptoms rooted in childhood neglect. Growing up without affection from either parent had shaped me more than I realised. Although she believed her assessment, she required a physical medical diagnosis for absolute confirmation before our sessions could begin. Just as we were getting ready to meet her in person, tragedy struck. Lucas ran out of his room, trembling. He couldn’t speak, so I took the phone from his shaking hand. Whatever frightened him was inside it. Right. Lucas’s personality was a mystery…one that needed careful studying. During sex, he was firm, domineering, confident, almost controlling. But outside of that, he was a shy, smitten cat…one that needed covering, protection, and guidance. I read the news. Eric had been shot. An ambulance was rushing him to the hospital. We hurried there. I sat outside the OR, drowning in confusion
ERICA: Lucas’s mother had suffered from a similar disorder for years before her death. She’d died from heartbreak…from loving too easily, desiring too deeply. At first, his explanation sounded made-up, something he’d crafted to justify his earlier accusations. But when he broke down in tears, describing how his mother had fallen into depression and never recovered, I knew it was real. She had been diagnosed with Dependent Personality Disorder (DPD)—a condition that made her terrified of being alone, quick to attach to anyone who offered her care or attention, and too eager to fall in love just to keep them close. Lucas said I exhibited every symptom his mother had shown before she was diagnosed. But help had come too late for her. By the time she received medical attention, she was emotionally broken, beyond repair. He went on to explain that his mother had grown up in a single-parent home. Her father was absent, her mother long gone. Starved of affection, she fell in love with L
ERICA: I stood in Lucas’s room, right in front of his computer, waiting for his trembling hand to power it on. After what felt like forever at the dining table, he finally confessed he had Leonard’s house under surveillance. That wasn’t shocking, but the real blow came when I learned that my room was included. Even my bathroom. I couldn’t wrap my thoughts around it. For a strong reason, I knew Lucas hadn’t just watched me kiss Leonard. He had watched more. He had feasted on my body long before he ever touched it. “Show me,” I said again, trying hard to keep the irritation out of my voice. “Erica…” “I said, show me!” Shaking, he powered his computer and opened the folder where he’d stored both videos and photos of me. I scrolled through hundreds of naked images and clips until my legs gave out and I slumped onto the chair. “Erica,” he stammered behind me. “It’s not what you think.” Not what I think? Lucas accused me of false emotions…of not loving him, when he had been the per
ERICA: “Lucas?” I whispered, stepping backwards. He followed, his expression tight, unreadable. For every step I took, he doubled it…his fingers tugging at his glasses, his usual calm replaced with unusual urgency. He didn’t look like the timid nerd I’d known for weeks. He looked…different. Dark. Dangerous. My waist hit the edge of the dining table…shutting my escape route. He stopped in front of me, leaning onto my body. “What…what are you doing?” I stammered. He didn’t answer. Instead, his hand brushed past me, knocking aside the plates and cutlery to the floor. The heavy clashes startled me, but before I could react, he lifted me onto the table. “Lucas, get back to your senses,” I said, my voice cracked. He scoffed. “I thought you wanted me to be a man.” “Can you put on some clothes, please?” “None could fit since last night,” he said casually, glancing at his cock. My eyes followed. “Hope I don’t scare you.” Scared? I’m terrified. He grew bigger with every breath. Longe







