I broke up with my boyfriend who pretended to be poor
My boyfriend, Ethan, was broke, so I’d been
supporting him. In two years together, he’d
only gifted me a two–dollar scrunchie. Then I
saw him casually give a Ferrari to some
Instagram influencer. Turns out, he wasn’t a
penniless nobody, but a billionaire heir.
I worked nights at a bar to save up for a
fancy watch he wanted. One night, I froze
outside a VIP room, tray in hand. Inside was Ethan. For a second, I thought I was wrong.
He wore a tailored suit, radiating an
unfamiliar aura of wealth. This wasn’t the
Ethan I knew. He had his arm around a
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woman, a gorgeous influencer with millions of
followers.
My breath hitched. I remembered the night
before, Ethan holding me close, whispering,
“Babe, I’m so lucky to have you. I love you so
much.”
The influencer dangled a car key, cooing,
“Thank you so much, Ethan, for the Ferrari! |
don’t know how I’ll ever repay you.”
The room erupted in cheers. “Marry him!”
someone yelled. “Kiss! Kiss!”
They kissed. I went numb, like I’d been struck
by lightning. I handed my tray to a coworker
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and fled. In the bathroom, I sobbed, biting my
hand. We’d been together for two years, and
all he’d ever given me was that cheap
scrunchie. He claimed his family was poor, his
mom was gone, his dad had a stroke, and he had younger siblings to support. I felt for him,
I understood his pressure. So I took care of
him.
We lived in a tiny apartment. I paid the rent,
utilities, and groceries. His paycheck
supposedly went to his family. He’d even get
insecure about his situation. “Babe, do you
think I’m a loser for being broke?” he’d ask.
“You’ll stay with me, right? You won’t leave?”
I’d always reassure him. “It’s okay. We’ll work
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hard, and things will get better.” He’d
promise, “Babe, I’ll make enough money to
marry you, buy you a huge diamond ring, a
big house, and you won’t have to work
anymore.”