After Being Dumped by My Ex-Boyfriend, I Became His Aunt

I'm Ethan Hunter's long-suffering girlfriend, a fact well-known among those in our circle.

For a decade, I stood by him as he rose from poverty to become a prominent figure in the business world.

I believed we would eventually marry, until he began frequenting nightclubs and spending time with other women.

The scent of perfume on him became more prominent than the aroma of the meals I prepared at home.

While I suffered from midnight stomach pains, he was in bed with someone else.

When I caught him kissing another woman, he dismissed it as just a game.

After waiting ten years for a proposal, he instead placed a ring on someone else's finger.

If that's the case, then let's both move on with our lives.

But then he showed up with his men, trying to disrupt my marriage.

Observing this scene, someone beside me calmly remarked, "Kneel down and apologize to my wife!"

"Whose perfume are you wearing?" I asked, clenching my fists and fighting back tears.

The aroma of the food lingered in the air, but it couldn't mask the scent of jasmine that clung to Ethan.

We had been together for ten years, from our college days to the corporate world.

Recently, he landed a big contract and transformed into a rising star in the business community.

He had social engagements every day, yet he still came home for dinner.

But after those outings, he always smelled of various perfumes, a mix of different women.

I never confronted him about it until now; lately, there was only one scent on him—the floral fragrance he never used to wear.

Ethan sat across from me, irritated as he kicked his chair. "Can you just eat in peace?" He muttered, not bothering to look up as he shoveled food into his mouth.

I noticed the marks on his collar and, in a fit of anger, I slammed my fork down. "I'm asking whose perfume that is!"

To my surprise, the usually gentle Ethan tossed his fork aside and stood up to face me. "Can you stop making a scene? With all my social events, how am I supposed to know whose perfume it is?"

I turned away with a scoff, wiping away the tears that had started to fall.

I walked up to him and tugged at his collar. "And what about this? You don't know who left these marks?"

I caught a flicker of panic in his eyes, sending a chill through me.

But he quickly regained his composure.

"Is this really why you can't let me eat in peace?" He pulled his collar back and looked down at me with disdain. "Emma Johnson, you're really disappointing me."

With that, he grabbed his coat from the sofa and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

I stared at the steaming food on the table, forcing myself to take bites through my tears.

When my phone buzzed, I hurriedly picked it up, hoping it was him apologizing.

In the past, he would always come back within ten minutes when I was upset.

But when I opened the message, reality hit hard. "Emma, just take some time to cool off. I won't be home tonight."

Looking at the untouched food around me, my appetite vanished.

I had been with Ethan since I was 18; now I was 28.

His mother had passed away early in his life, and his father had started a new family that neglected him entirely.

After graduation, when Ethan expressed his desire to start a business, I immediately supported him without hesitation.

Coming from a comfortable background, I invested all my savings into his startup as seed money.

In those early days when no one wanted to join him, I became his right hand—taking on any task that needed doing and shielding him from external pressures.

When my parents pressured me to return home for arranged dates and I refused, we fought fiercely.

They cut off all support after that argument.

Those years were our toughest times together.

Yet despite everything, leaving him never crossed my mind.

I continued to wake up early and work hard alongside him while offering encouragement because Ethan truly treated me well.

He remembered all my preferences and never argued with me; he was ambitious too.

Even when he only had ten dollars left in his pocket, he would give it all to me.

He promised that one day we would live in a big villa together.

Now we lived in that villa, but he was gone.

Scrolling through my Instagram feed reminded me of our beautiful past together.

I doubted that had I misunderstood him this night?

As nostalgia washed over me with memories of happier times, my heart grew heavier.

So I decided that tomorrow I'd go see him and extend an olive branch.

This thought lifted my spirits considerably.

The next day, dressed to impress, I went to his office only to find out that Ethan wasn't there.

Although disappointed, I put on a brave face and treated everyone at the office to coffee as the boss's girlfriend should.

After chatting with a few acquaintances, I learned he was at a club where he often entertained clients.

With renewed determination and a smile plastered on my face, I went there hoping for reconciliation—but little did I know that this visit would shatter any chance we had of making amends.