When Lisa earns her much-deserved promotion, she wants to go out and celebrate with her boyfriend, Troy. At the restaurant, Lisa learns that Troy just wants to put on a façade and be the ‘man’—disrespecting her and her hard-earned role. But when he gives his number to a waitress, things take a turn, causing Lisa to embarrass Troy and walk out of their relationship.
It was meant to be a night of pure celebration. After six months at my new job, I had finally earned a significant promotion and was eager to share the joy with Troy, my boyfriend.
He suggested the new upscale restaurant in town, famous for its ambiance and gourmet menu.
“Let’s just get dressed and go out, Lisa,” he said. “We don’t do this very often, so let’s make the most of it.”
I had to agree; we rarely did this—we rarely decided to go out and indulge in anything.
“Fine,” I agreed. “A night out is exactly what we need.”
And I believed that we needed it. Mainly because, as much as I wanted to believe that Troy and I were supposed to last forever, I had begun to see some cracks in our relationship. Something just felt different.
I was happy in my job, but Troy wasn’t happy in his.
“I do so much, but nobody bothers to recognize me,” he said grimly one evening when he came over for salsa night.
Troy sat on the couch and dug his chips into the salsa and guacamole, complaining about work the entire evening.
It was because of his moods regarding work that I didn’t tell him anything good about my job.
“Maybe you just need to give it more time,” I said, handing him a frozen margarita. “You just started there a few months ago.”
“Lisa, please,” he said. “You wouldn’t understand. Let me be.”
But when I had gotten news of this new promotion, there was no way that I was going to keep it to myself. I wanted to celebrate and be celebrated, and I hoped that Troy would want to do just that.
To my surprise, he seemed really excited about it, and he told me that he was proud of me.
“Really, babe,” he said when he came over to my apartment to pick me up. “This is a big deal, and I’m proud of you.”
The evening started beautifully. Troy showed up with a bouquet of flowers, and he sat down and waited while I got ready. Usually, he wasn’t pleased if I was still getting ready when he arrived, but this evening was different.
“Come on,” I said. “I’m ready!”
Troy put his phone away and stood up, leading the way out of my apartment to where his car was waiting for us.
We drove in silence, but for once, the silence wasn’t tense—it was peaceful, and I felt that maybe Troy was changing. That he was becoming someone who wanted to be here and be present with me.
The soft lighting and the stunning view of the city skyline from our table set a romantic backdrop for our evening. We toasted to my success, with Troy raising his glass of champagne high.
“To the most amazing woman I know,” Troy cheered, clinking his glass against mine. “And to many more successes to come.”
“To us and to the future!” I echoed, suddenly caught up in the moment.
We went through the menu and ordered our meals while Troy spoke about the shared dreams that we had—from the Bali holiday that we had been speaking about for a long time, to wanting to move in together soon.
“I just think it’s time,” Troy said. “And now that you have your promotion, it will be much easier for us.”
Everything went along well, until the waitress brought our food over. Troy kept glancing at her, hoping to catch her eye—he winked at her twice.
I didn’t want to make a scene about it—Troy did this whenever he had something to drink. He behaved as though being a flirt was second nature.
But then, as we neared the end of our meal, I noticed a change in Troy. His usual easy smile tightened when the check was brought to our table. He smiled at the waitress as she stepped aside.
“You should let me pay with your card,” he said, a strain of insistence in his voice.
I was surprised. On the one hand, I didn’t mind paying for the dinner because it was my promotion and I was making a lot more money than I had before. But at the same time, I had also hoped that Troy would want to spoil me for the night.
“Why can’t you use your own card?” I asked, surprised by the frown on his face.
Troy’s irritation was barely concealed.
“Clearly because you’re the one who got promoted, and I don’t have enough money for these fancy dinners, Lisa! You know that, and yet you act like you don’t.”
I was confused by his logic.
“I’ll just pay with my card,” I said, putting my handbag on the table. “It’s not a big deal.”
My boyfriend’s face hardened as he took a sip of his whiskey—he had switched from champagne halfway through the meal.
“It’s embarrassing, Lisa,” he said. “It’s like you’re actually trying to humiliate me by not letting me be the man who pays.”
I didn’t know how to react to Troy’s words. It didn’t make sense to me. And I couldn’t understand what the waitress had to do with who was paying for our meal.
I would have retaliated and stood up for myself, but I could feel my energy being drained by Troy.
I felt cornered. And because I wanted to avoid making a scene, I reluctantly handed over my card.
Troy smirked and picked up my card, signaling for the waitress with an exaggerated flourish, presenting my card as if he were performing a grand gesture.
“I’ll be right back with the card machine,” the waitress said.
Feeling uneasy, I excused myself to the restroom. I just needed a moment to be myself. Troy did this all the time. But I thought that the evening was going well and that he was changing.
Of course, I was wrong.
Before thinking it through, I pulled my phone out and logged onto my banking app. With a few swipes and clicks, I had blocked my card.
Let’s see him pay now, I thought to myself.
On my way back, I paused near the bar, my attention caught by Troy’s laughter from across the room.
He was flirting openly with the waitress, scribbling something onto a napkin—presumably his phone number.
He handed it to her with a wink. I was stunned. I was hurt. A rush of indignation surged through me.
I returned to the table as the waitress spoke.
“I’m sorry, but there seems to be a problem,” she said. “Your card was declined.”
Troy’s confident façade crumbled as he stammered, turning away.
“What?” he asked. “Surely that can’t be right.”
Feigning concern, I suggested that Troy call the bank.
He sat back in his chair and pulled out his phone, dialing the bank and putting the call on speaker.
The representative asked for the card number, which Troy read off my card, followed by a request for the account password.
Finally, Troy hesitated. He was at a loss.
“Okay, Sir,” the person said through the phone. “If you can verify the last three transactions, it would help.”
The waitress hopped from one foot to the other.
“I can answer that,” I said. “A lavender-scented candle, some skincare products, and a new book. And Sir, the name on the card is Lisa Simmons.”
The waitress’s expression cleared with understanding, and Troy was left floundering for a response.
I then pulled out another card and paid the bill myself.
“Lucky I have two cards,” I told Troy and the waitress. “But babe, since you enjoyed the service, I think you can get the tip.”
Troy, red-faced, scrambled through his wallet, pulling out only expired coupons and a few small bills.
I stood up, waiting for Troy to say something—anything, but he sat there tight-lipped.
“Hey, I didn’t take his number,” the waitress said, a smirk playing on her lips. “I just threw the napkin away.”
“I’ll find my own way home,” I told Troy as I walked out into the night.
As I walked outside, I didn’t know if I had made a mistake. But at the end of the day, no relationship should make a person second guess themselves or make them feel like celebrating themselves is wrong.
Which is something that Troy did all the time.
I think I’m finally done with him.
What would you do?
If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one |
When Kyra discovers, by accident, that her boyfriend, Henry, has been cheating on her, she goes completely numb. Until he sends her an invoice for everything that he had ever spent on her. Fueled by her anger, Kyra fights back, exposing Henry for who he is and asking for her monetary rewards in return.
Felix put his head in his hands and sighed. No matter how often he went through the monthly figures for his home handyman business, he couldn’t deny the facts. He was facing another shortfall this month
Felix notices his elderly neighbor laboring to trim her overgrown yard and runs to assist. As a thank you, she thrusts an odd antique box upon him; however, Felix finds himself in serious legal hot water when her attorney calls to demand an immediate appointment.
Felix was looking over his handyman business’s monthly accounts when he heard a lawnmower snarl. When he peered out his kitchen window, he was startled to see an old woman named Mrs. McAllister using her cane as a walking aid and straining to maneuver her lawnmower with one hand.
Mrs. McAllister was crimson in the face and drenched in sweat when Felix caught up to her. She turned off the lawnmower.
“Felix…Can I help with something, please?you with? She gasped.
“Please move aside so I can assist you! To be honest, Mrs. McAllister, your son ought to be assisting you with these household tasks. It’s wrong to leave your aging mother to struggle on her own.
Felix was invited inside for a drink of lemonade by Mrs. McAllister after a tiring morning spent mowing and raking the tall, wet grass. The dirty mess of cobwebs, dirt, and trinkets in her house astounded him. Felix thought that his generous neighbor was no longer able to care for herself.
“You go now, sweetie.” On the table, Mrs. McAllister set down a glass of lemonade.
“I also want this to belong to you. This antique has been handed down through my family.
Felix scowled at the metal container she extended for him. It was quite weighty and featured a curious set of dials on the lid.
“Mrs. McAllister, I don’t need a fancy gift for such a simple task.” Felix returned the box to her hand.
Mrs. McAllister cast a disappointed glance. She demanded he take something to make up for his worries and went to get his daughter Suzie an apple-filled grocery bag. She then groaned loudly and collapsed into her armchair, obviously tired.
Felix left Mrs. McAllister to rest, insisting that she phone him the next time she needs assistance. Later on in the day, Suzie hurried up to Felix, grinning with excitement.
“Look, Dad! I found something under the apples that Mrs. McAllister gave us!” She pointed out to him the same weird metal box. “I can’t open it, but I think these dials are a combination lock.”
“Suzie, I know you adore vintage puzzle boxes and stuff, but we’re not keeping this.” He extended his hand to grasp the package. “I will give it back to Mrs. McAllister.”
Felix insisted even though Suzie was furiously unhappy. With the box in hand, he marched back to Mrs. McAllister’s house, but she did not answer the door. He groaned in frustration and reached for the door handle. He stepped inside after shouting to Mrs. McAllister that he was returning her box safely.
The body of Mrs. McAllister was hunched over in the recliner. Her eyes were empty and unseen as they gazed at the wall.
“Mrs. McAllister!” Felix hurried to her side and yelled, but it was too late—Mrs. McAllister had vanished.
It wasn’t until much later that Felix noticed the box was in his pocket. He looked for comparable antique boxes on the internet on a whim. When he eventually located a match, he cursed.
This was a $250,000 box!
Felix couldn’t return the package even though he hadn’t wanted to, and Suzie’s future would be guaranteed by that sum of money. For the benefit of Suzie, he had to sell it. Felix put the box somewhere safe in the interim. Felix received an odd phone call a few days later.
“This is Tim, the attorney for Mrs. McAllister. I would like to schedule a meeting with you right away. Are you free right now?
Felix was cautious about Tim’s haste, but he agreed to meet the lawyer at a town cafe. He was interested as to why Tim wanted to see him, despite his discomfort. When he came and found Henry, the son of Mrs. McAllister, sitting at a table with the man who had to be Tim, his uncertainty only deepened.
Felix joined them, and Henry sent him a look. Felix, allow me to get right to the point. A priceless heirloom—a tiny box with few dials on the lid—has vanished from my mother’s home. Since you were the last person in her home, I wanted to give you an opportunity to act morally.
“You believe I took something from your mom?” Felix bellowed. “Mrs. McAllister gave me the box as a token of appreciation for mowing her lawn—a duty you ought to have performed for her!”
“You would never have gotten that box from Mom!” Felix was stabbed by Henry with his finger. It was commissioned from a renowned artisan by my great-great-grandfather, a well-known politician! There are just two in the entire globe! I’ll give you $1,000 for the box if you return it to me. Alright?
“No.” Felix got to his feet. “When I put it up for auction, you are welcome to participate in the bidding. Henry, good bye.
Felix took the box to a nearby auction house the following day to have it valued. Mr. Whitaker, a serious guy with a snobbish accent, summoned him to an assessment in a back room. Ellen, a woman, also joined them.
Mr. Whitaker stated, “I can confirm right away that the craftsman’s mark on the underside is genuine.” That implies, sir, that this is a really noteworthy piece. One of just two worldwide.
Ellen bent to look inside the box. That is really beautiful.Could you please show me your provenance paperwork?
“Pardon me?” Felix queried.
A muscle in the woman’s cheek quivered. “Any verifiable document that demonstrates the authenticity of the artifact and your ownership, or a certificate of authentication, must be provided.”
Felix lied, saying, “Uh…I left all that stuff at home.” He objected to the direction this appraisal had gone. After removing the package from the table, he made his way toward the door. “I’ll go get it and come back right away.”
“You cannot be allowed to do that.” Ellen moved to the side, obstructing his way to the door.
“We have a duty to report any…discrepancies involving objects associated with historical personalities to the relevant authorities.”
Felix went into a panic. He swerved to avoid the woman and Mr. Whitaker, then shot out into the corridor. As soon as he arrived at the reception area, an alarm went off.
Felix ducked and slid past guards who were scrambling to stop him, feeling as though he was back on his high school football field. He sprang away from the grip of one and bolted out of the building onto the street. From then, he ran until his legs were completely numb.
Felix walked his living room, considering what to do. In order to put money into Suzie’s future, he had to sell the box, but he needed some sort of paperwork to make it happen.
He wished he could find out from Mrs. McAllister. She would likely be able to supply the precise documentation he required to show provenance as well as know exactly what they were. Felix thought for a moment, thinking there might be a market for the box. He didn’t want to do it, but he was stuck with no other option.
Felix went through his toolboxes and picked out a few necessary items, then went to the garage to get his boltcutter. Felix broke into Mrs. McAllister’s residence after Suzie went to bed that evening in order to find the documents he need.
Felix felt a shiver run down his spine as he entered Mrs. McAllister’s bedroom. The smell in here was still hers. He forced himself to see into her personal space even though it felt intrusive and spooky. The light in the bedroom came on while he was halfway across the space.
“You’re not so mighty and high now, Felix?” Henry snarled from the entrance.
Felix pivoted. Felix had a flash in his eyes as Henry snapped pictures of him with his phone raised.
Felix covered his face with a raised hand. Henry, this isn’t how it looks. All I need is—
“I know the paperwork for the box.” Henry grinned. “The auction house contacted me after you attempted to swindle them since my family is known to have a link to that box. I told them, of course, that you took it.
“That is untrue!”
“But without the right paperwork, it’s impossible to prove ownership.” Henry filled the entryway with his stance, arms crossed. “Neither can you sell it. I’ll give you till tomorrow at eight in the morning to turn it in; if not, I’ll phone the police.
Felix took out running from Mrs. McAllister’s house as Henry moved aside. He was burdened by the implications he now had to face. The day he discovered Mrs. McAllister dead, he wished he had left the box at her home.
However, she had desired it for him! Felix didn’t think Henry would follow through on his promise to turn over the box. Ideas were flying through his head. He knew what he had to do by daylight.
He woke Suzie and instructed her to hurriedly pack her bags, then requested his mom to come over right now. They were all gathered at the front door a few hours later. Now that he had covered everything, it was time to say their goodbyes.
Felix handed Suzie the box. “As soon as you can, sell it. Please don’t accept anything less than $100,000 for it. The only way to escape this disaster and yet make sure you have the best possible life is to do this.
Tightly hugging his daughter, Felix fought back the tears that threatened to well up in his eyes. One of the toughest things he had ever had to do in his life was say goodbye to her.
“Suzie, I know you’ll have a wonderful life,” he added, gazing into her eyes. “Travel to see what the world has to offer and study hard so you can make something of yourself.” Observe your grandmother.Family is vital, and we should show respect for the elderly.
In the distance, police sirens sounded. Half an hour had passed since Henry’s deadline at 8:30 a.m. He had a suspicion that those sirens were pursuing him. He kept his eyes on Mom and Suzie as they pulled out of the driveway, hearing the police sirens becoming closer. When the police detained him, he found some solace in the fact that they were out of this mess.
Legal complications hampered the allegations against Felix, despite Henry’s threats. The absence of the box cast doubt on several crucial aspects of Henry’s case. Felix waited for his court date in a detention cell for four months. A guard informed him one day that someone had paid his bail.
Felix was genuinely perplexed. Suzie was waiting for him in the front portion of the prison, where he followed the man. Together, they strolled outdoors. Mom was waiting for them, parked at the curb.
Felix replied, “Okay, Suzie, I can’t wait any longer,” as they climbed into the vehicle. “What’s happening?”
“Well, I ignored your advice regarding the box.” Suzie gave a shy smile. Rather, I discovered how to open it. There was a note from Mrs. McAllister along with an authentication certificate inside. Dad, she genuinely wanted that package to belong to you. That was stated in the note.
Felix scowled. Suzie wasn’t done, so he didn’t have much time to consider Mrs. McAllister’s request that he take the box, even though he still didn’t comprehend it.
“I showed your lawyer the note, and after that, I brought the box containing all the documents to an antique dealer.” Suzie gave this big smile. “He gave us enough money to post bail, and we have an additional $100,000!”
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