My Eight-Year Love Was A Lie, So I Ruined His Life

During our seven years of dating, Ethan proposed to me seven times. I was a firm believer in remaining unmarried, while he desperately craved the traditional family life.

From day one, we both laid our cards on the table, and the rest of our time together was a constant tugofwar. By the eighth year, I got pregnant by accident.

Ethan thought he finally had the upper hand. He didn’t even bother putting together a proper proposal anymore.

One lazy afternoon, he just asked me casually, "Should we just head to City Hall and make it official?" I pulled out a photo of him successfully proposing to another girl, tossed it right in front of him, and sneered, "Are you planning on committing bigamy, Ethan?" Every betrayal leaves a trail.

You’re just usually the last one to find out. Or maybe you just numb yourself because you don’t want to believe it. But mostly, it’s because of the coverups.

He was hiding it, the people around him were hiding it, and I was just the blindfolded fool in the middle of it all.

Honestly, if the girl hadn't been so eager to take my place, I would have never known.

This threeyear underground affair had been going on right under my nose, and apparently, everyone in our circle already knew about it.

When I threw the photo in front of Ethan, he froze for a split second.

Then, he quickly regained his composure. "You’re overthinking again, Chloe," he said smoothly. "A random bystander must have taken this.

The lead actor on set couldn't get the proposal scene right, and since I happened to be there, everyone started teasing me.

They said I had the most proposal experience and insisted I demonstrate it myself." There was even a hint of resentment in his voice, as if the fact that I had made him propose seven times had turned him into a laughingstock. "Since when do executive producers start coaching actors on set?" I asked, my voice cold. "I was just passing by for business.

I stopped to watch, and they dragged me into it." He looked up at me, checking my reaction before continuing, "Besides, I know you and Mia don’t get along.

I wouldn't go see her on purpose." I never play a game I’m not prepared for. This was just a small test, and clearly, Ethan was rattled.

At least this proved one thing: he wasn’t ready to end things with me yet. Over the years, even though we weren't married, our careers and finances were deeply intertwined.

Until I sorted out all the assets, I wasn't going to make any reckless moves.

I took out my phone and sent the audio recording of our conversation to the unknown number that had sent me the photo. “Ethan says it was just a misunderstanding, just blocking out a scene.

I choose to believe him. You should stop trying to break us up. Your acting skills are honestly pathetic.” I wasn't in a hurry. But someone else was.

I just needed to throw some more wood onto the fire. If you want to play with fire, you’d better be prepared to get burned.

My history with Mia went way back. We went to the same high school and the same college. It was a curse.

Back then, she was secretly dating her first love, but the guy went behind her back and pursued me. The moment we became official, he posted about it online.

Mia lost her mind and dragged both of us publicly on social media. As soon as I realized what was happening, I cleared my name by posting screenshots of our chat logs.

But Mia immediately played the victim, posting vague rants on Twitter accusing me of being a homewacker. Right after that, she took the toxic guy back.

The two of them built a massive following on social media by constantly throwing shade at me.

That was how Mia got her start as a TikTok influencer before upgrading to a Clist TV actress. In college, the guy cheated on her again.

Mia posted a status saying, "A dog never changes its habits," implying he had cheated on her with me again.

She didn't clarify anything, leaving the vague post up to let the public crucify me.

I was so traumatized by the cyberbullying that I didn't dare open any social media accounts during college, terrified of being doxxed. I did try to fight back.

But no matter what evidence I posted, her brainless stans claimed my screenshots were photoshopped.

On the rare occasion someone stood up for me, they were accused of being my paid shills.

As an ordinary student fighting an influencer, I stood zero chance in a public relations war. Eventually, I just gave up. I was completely isolated for three whole years in college.

But the world is a small place. Mia later did a live stream on TikTok, trying to flirt with the campus golden boy. But he completely ignored her.

In fact, right in front of her thousands of viewers, he confessed his love to me instead. That golden boy was Ethan.

He didn't care about Mia’s smear campaign or the hateful comments from the viewers. He listened to my side of the story.

Then, leveraging the massive attention from Mia’s failed confession, he helped me clear my name.

Though I didn’t know how many people actually believed him, his public pursuit did give me a peaceful college life.

Back then, he held my hand and said with absolute certainty, "People like Mia who twist the truth will eventually get what’s coming to them."

So, when Ethan came home one day and told me Mia was cast in his newly funded show, I was furious. But he comforted me, saying, "It’s just a minor supporting role.

She brought her own investors to the project, so I couldn't just kick her out. I don't have total control over the casting." I believed him. I had to.

By then, our careers were worlds apart. My recent investment had failed, trapping all my capital. Ethan had even been helping me pay my mortgage.

Meanwhile, he had become an Alist producer after one of his drama series became a massive hit. His salary and bonuses had skyrocketed.

Ironically, Mia, who had been a nobody in Hollywood for four years, suddenly became a household name because of that minor supporting role.

She played the male lead’s tragic first love who died young. Out of twenty episodes, she had less than an hour of screen time.

But because the character was so wellwritten and she looked perfect in the role, she captured everyone's hearts overnight. I was miserable.

But that night, Ethan came home dead drunk. He held me tightly and sobbed, telling me how sorry he was.

He hated that the person I despised the most had become famous through his show. He apologized over and over until midnight. My heart softened, and I never brought it up again.

Deep down, I knew that becoming a star requires luck. But didn't the production team know which roles had the most potential?

Otherwise, why would Mia insist on buying her way into the cast just for that minor role? At the end of the day, it was all about money and clout.

Ethan and I had been through so much to get where we were. He never worked with that production team again, and I gradually let the matter slide. Until I got pregnant.

The past came rushing back like a tsunami. For the last three years, Ethan and Mia barely had any contact—at least on the surface.

They operated in the same social circles and were often invited to the same industry events. But whenever Mia attended, Ethan would decline.

Even if they happened to be at the same venue, Ethan made sure they were never photographed together. Looking back now, it was a little too deliberate.

The moment I received the proposal photo from Mia, I made a call to Ethan’s best friend, Marcus Hayes, a very famous director.

It was a surprise checkin. "Hey Marcus, where is your crew scouting locations right now?" He replied quickly, "Hey Chloe! I’m currently in Savannah.

Ethan isn't with us, though." Then, his voice dropped a bit. "Mia is in my crew. I know you guys don't get along, so Ethan made sure not to show up here." I smiled. "Thanks, Marcus.

Just checking. Have a good one." This was exactly why I called instead of texting. If I had texted him, he would have had too much time to think of a coverup.

Now that the grass had been stirred, I wanted to see how the snake would run. Sure enough, Ethan became extremely cautious after that day.

He barely left the house during his free time. When he was at work, he reported to me constantly, sending his location and FaceTiming me nonstop.

As for his casual proposal from the other day, neither of us brought it up again after my silent rejection. Beneath the calm surface, a massive storm was brewing.

Tonight, Ethan came home unusually late. He loosened his tie and said to me as I sat reading, "The investors tonight were so annoying. One of them spilled a drink all over me.

I’m going to take a shower." Ethan, who usually left his dirty clothes in the hamper, did something completely out of character.

He threw his clothes directly into the washing machine. He smiled warmly at me. "The smell is too strong.

You’re pregnant, and I don't want it to make you sick." How considerate of him. He must have spent the entire drive home drafting that pathetic excuse.

To him, facing me was probably more stressful than facing his investors. When I nodded in response, I saw him let out a massive sigh of relief.

The moment he stepped into the bathroom, I paused the washing machine. The strong scent of perfume on his shirt was indeed suffocating. It wasn't just any perfume.

It was from an international brand that Mia endorsed. She had once joked in an interview, "I absolutely love this scent. The brand sent me a whole crate of it.

I’ll probably smell like it for the next few years." If that wasn't proof enough, there was a faint lipstick smudge on the back collar of his shirt.

It was the exact same shade of lipstick Mia was wearing in the photo she had sent me earlier. My phone buzzed. It was a text from Mia: “Don’t trust men too much.

He came to see me tonight. Did you really think keeping him on a tight leash would work? The more you control a man, the more he rebels.” She was getting desperate.

She wanted to sound confident, but she was only exposing her own insecurity about not being able to fully control him.

When Ethan walked out of the shower, I was sitting at the dining table with his shirt in my hands. His relaxed expression instantly shattered. "Why did you take that out?

Doesn't it smell bad?" "It’s fine," I said calmly. "This perfume is quite famous for its scent." He sat down in front of me like a guilty child, hanging his head. "At the dinner tonight, one of the clients brought a young girl.

She kept throwing herself at me. I was so annoyed. That’s how the scent got on me. I was worried you’d be upset, so I wanted to wash it right away." He sounded so sincere.

His delivery was flawless. "Is her last name Vance?" I asked, my voice flat.

He immediately snapped, "Just because I smell like the perfume Mia endorses doesn't mean I was with her, Chloe!

You’re being paranoid!" The moment the words left his mouth, his face went pale. He realized he had just walked right into his own trap.

I hadn't mentioned the endorsement, nor had I mentioned Mia’s name. He had exposed himself like a startled monkey whose tail had been stepped on. "When did it start?" I asked.

Ethan remained silent, staring at me, probably trying to read my expression. "You know me," I continued. "If I’m asking, it means I already have proof.

To me, lying is just as unforgivable as cheating.

Ethan, don't dig your own grave." He deflated instantly. "Three years ago." Even though I had already confirmed it through other channels, hearing him admit it still made my heart squeeze.

It felt like someone was wringing my chest, making it hard to breathe. "Why?" I asked. I was surprised to find that I wasn't as detached as I thought.

Walking away was my style, but it still hurt. "In the beginning, I ignored her," Ethan muttered. "But she was relentless.

She did everything she could to get into my projects." "She didn't care about the money. She even brought her own investors. By then, she was already famous.

She could have had any script she wanted, but she only chose me. She only showed up if I was there." "And then, that night after you rejected my proposal again...

I knew your stance on marriage, but I still felt incredibly depressed. She stayed and drank with me all night.

I lost control." He suddenly looked up at me, his eyes pleading. "But I really want to marry you, Chloe. I went to see her tonight to break things off for good.

The moment I found out you were pregnant, I started planning this. Let’s get married, Chloe. Let’s give our baby a home, and give our love a real future."

I couldn't even begin to describe how I felt.

I couldn't believe he had the nerve to say that to me. "I didn't want to marry you even before I knew you were cheating," I said, staring at him in disbelief. "What makes you think I would choose to marry you now?" "But you’re pregnant!" he blurted out.

Yes, I was pregnant. But who decided that being pregnant meant I had to compromise my life for some hollow version of "love" and "marriage"?

Precisely because I was pregnant, there was no way in hell I was marrying him. How could I let my child grow up in a home built on a foundation of lies and betrayal?

I myself was the product of a failed marriage—the unfortunate mistake of two people who resented each other.

My mother had resented me because her pregnancy with me ruined her dream of becoming a professional dancer and cost her a chance to marry into wealth.

And my father, constantly suspicious of my mother's fidelity, dragged me to get three DNA tests before finally accepting the truth in black and white. My existence was never wanted.

No matter how hard I tried to be perfect, I was always just a burden that chained them together. The moment I turned eighteen, they decided they had fulfilled their legal duty.

One afternoon, they both vanished, leaving behind nothing but a rented apartment with six months of unpaid rent. I had dragged myself out of the mud to get to where I was.

I had sworn to myself that I would never get married. To me, marriage was nothing but a trap. But Ethan came from a perfect, loving family.

His parents met in college and had a beautiful, textbook marriage. So, when he pursued me, he constantly talked about wanting that kind of life.

I knew this would eventually become a dealbreaker between us. Before I even accepted him, I made my stance clear: I would never get married. He was incredibly confused back then.

He couldn't comprehend why someone would be so opposed to marriage. "What if you fall deeply in love with someone?" he had asked. "Still no.

Marriage is not a prerequisite for love." After thinking it over for a long time, he told me, "Even so, I still want to be with you.

But I’ll keep hoping that one day, I can change your mind." "Then prepare to be disappointed forever," I warned him. "Deal."