My Ex-Boyfriend's Uncle

Eilith’s POV- I am heading home early from my grandparents’ house. I decided to visit them, because I wanted to see them. I do not see them as much as I would like too, since I finished University and started making my way in the world. You see, I have lived with my grandparents since I was five years old, because my parents sadly died in a car accident, I don’t know much else than that. There was no other family, and my grandparents fought to keep me with them. My parents left a will, but never changed the will to say who would take me in if they both died, so I would have automatically been taken under the care of county, until they could confirm whether my grandparents could take me in. I remember very little of my parents, but my grandparents kept their memory alive. From the day I started Secondary School, albeit a private Secondary School, my grandparents told me to use my mother’s maiden, to hide who I was. They would go by my mother’s maiden name when going to certain places and meeting my friend and their parents. They didn’t do in the private Primary school I was in when my parents died, because it would be too much, and I would not likely understand fully why it had to be that way. It was and still is the way things had to be, because of who my grandparents are and who my father was. My father was the heir to a very powerful business. He had been running it for ten years before he died, but after he passed, my grandparents made the difficult decision of selling the business to the highest bidder. My grandparents focused on investing after that to maintain their wealth. My family is one of the very wealthy families in the United Kingdom. As the sole heiress to the wealth, my grandparents did not want me to have friends or boyfriends who just wanted me for my money, so I told everyone my name was Eilith Smith, not Eilith Clarke, which is my actual name. I have only told Kelly Roberts, my best friend, because she was a rich girl too, and has been my closest and dearest friend since we were eight years old. I really would not know what I would do without her, she has been there for me through so much. I had told my boyfriend, Dylan Harrison, that I would be out for most of the day and will not likely be home till the evening. In a note on his bedside, next to his phone, because he was still asleep, as I had woken up very early. I wanted to get to my grandparents before the morning traffic rush. But when I got there, my grandparents were going to visit a friend of theirs for and early dinner, so I had to leave far earlier than expected. When I usually visit them, I spend all day, sometimes into the next day with them, because they raised me and it is nice to be able to help them out around their home and visit my horse, which they keep at their home, in the stables on their land. When they were ready to leave to go have dinner, that was when I left to go home. I didn’t mention to my boyfriend that I was on the way home. I was thinking I would surprise him. I returned home, thinking I would be able to have a nice relaxing bath, and then maybe plan a nice romantic dinner for myself and Dylan, if he is home from the football match early enough. It wasn’t something we often did at home. I thought it would be a nice change. I love to cook, but he prefers to eat out at lavish places. He is the type to love to flaunt his wealth. Those plans were soon dashed… I entered my flat quietly, just in case Dylan was still asleep, which is how I left him this morning when I left to visit my grandparents. What I saw in front of me stopped me in my tracks. My mind went blank. In that moment, I almost forgot to breathe. I somehow managed to get the front door closed behind me quietly. When I turned around, I focused more on what was going one even though I was already beginning to understand what was going on, and honestly it didn’t feel real. It didn’t feel like it was happening to me. A cooked breakfast that had been made and eaten by two was left on my dining table. Romantic music played on the radio. I couldn’t quite hear it; I think because this whole thing felt like an out of body experience. I could not believe my eyes; Dylan had never once done anything like this for me. He would never cook for me, I think he even joked that it was a woman’s job once, but he was drunk and with friends, so I never took it to heart. Yet he would do it for a woman, who was not his girlfriend. I felt pain in my chest, that spread up my throat choking me. I knew I would not be able to say anything to him, but I had to know, was he really cheating on me? I quietly walked further into my flat, towards my bedroom, almost tripping over his shirt that lay discarded on the floor. It was not the only article of clothing strewn across the floor. There was some woman’s clothing on the floor too. Judging by the size the woman had to be a supermodel or something. The clothing was so small. It had to be the smallest size you could get here in the UK for women. I suddenly felt so insecure, because that size of clothing would never fit me now, it did when I was in my late teens, but not now. I arrived at my bedroom, but I made sure to remain hidden out of sight. Thankfully the door was open a little bit, so I could see everything. I could hear his distinct grunts and moans, as well as the moans of another woman. I peered through the small crack in the door and saw him having s*x with another woman in my bed. His back was to me, so he didn’t notice that I had seen what he was doing. The woman looked like a supermodel to me, but I really couldn’t see her very well, except for a little bit of her blonde hair that was spread across the sheets. I didn’t know her, but a hatred grew in my heart almost straight away for her. I could feel my eyes well with tears, as my hand covered my mouth. I could not stay here any longer, my voice was all but gone. I couldn’t stay there to speak with him, let alone look at him right now. Not to mention, I know he has a temper when someone confronts him, it has happened before when we were out, but it has never been aimed at me before. Something I was always scared of happening. How could he do this to me, after everything I had done for him? How could he cheat on me after all these years? Has he been cheating on me this whole time? Could I really forgive him if he made promises? I just needed to get out of here for now. So, I left, as quietly and quickly as I could. I didn’t want him to know that I had seen him, because I could not deal with the confrontation right now, and his excuses and temper.