My Boyfriend Ended Our Relationship and Gave Me an Invoice for All He ‘Spent on Me’

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.

We’ve all heard of crazy boyfriend or ex-boyfriend stories—I mean, when I was in college, it was a common sleepover story.

I’ve heard of the boyfriend who wanted to taste everything his girlfriend ate—before she did. And an ex-boyfriend who demanded that his ex-girlfriend help him study for finals because it was her fault that he wasn’t able to concentrate.

But I didn’t expect my relationship to turn into one of those stories.

I had been dating Henry for two years. We had met in college at a party and after a night of drunken conversation over fries, we ended up dating.

Our relationship wasn’t perfect—in fact, over the course of it, we had broken up three times.

“Come on, Kyra,” Henry said. “We either get back together or we break up for good.”

It was the defining moment in our relationship because Henry was the one who wanted to call the shots. He wanted us to stay together, and I wanted us to call it a day.

Over the years, Henry and I had gotten into enough fights, motivating me to turn to therapy to help me cope with the stress of it.

“And yet,” my friend Brent said, “you still remain with him.”

It was just another ordinary Friday evening and Henry had come over to my place. We were going to eat pizza and watch series until we fell asleep.

A few hours into the evening, Henry had fallen asleep on the couch and I casually reached over to grab his phone to check the time.

But I was completely unprepared for everything that followed.

Just as I picked up Henry’s phone, his screen lit up with a text message from another girl.

Hey, babe! See you later or are we meeting tomorrow?

“Hey, who’s this?” I asked, nudging him awake and handing him the phone with a puzzled look.

Henry snatched the phone from my hand in a fury, his face clouding over.

“Kyra, why are you reading my messages?” he snapped, his tone defensive.

“I was just looking for the time,” I stammered. “My phone is on charge in the kitchen. I wasn’t snooping or anything.”

Henry stood up, took a swig of his now room-temperature beer, and paced around my living room.

“This is my private stuff, Kyra,” he accused. “You shouldn’t be looking at all.”

Before I could process what was happening, Henry began putting his shoes on, and then he made a final decision about our relationship.

“I think we’re done here. I can’t trust you anymore!”

And with that, he left my apartment.

Stunned, I watched him leave. We were over in the blink of an eye after two years.

I couldn’t understand if I felt relief or devastation. I would miss Henry, of course, but at the same time—I didn’t think that this was the worst thing.

Henry had been emotionally manipulating me for a long time, but I had felt a familiarity with him. And that had made it easier to stay with him.

It was the comfort of being with a familiar person, despite the heartache that came with them.

I could hear my mother’s words loud in my head.

“Kyra,” she would say, “You’re too smart to be playing a game like this. Let go of the dead weight. Henry has been nothing but dead weight since your first big fight.”

And she would be correct.

I decided to take a shower, I needed to lull my body into a sense of relaxation so that I could just let go and sleep.

And then it truly dawned on me—the reason for the breakup now was because I had caught Henry cheating on me. At first, I was too stunned. I was stunned by the fact that he had walked out on me.

But I finally managed to realize that he had actually been dating another woman. And had no idea how long it had been going on for.

The thought was too much for me to comprehend. I had so many questions running through my mind—how long had Henry been cheating on me? Who was the other person? What would have happened if I hadn’t found out?

The next few days were a complete blur—I felt a sense of relief knowing that I was untied to Henry. But at the same time, I felt hollow and a bit raw.

I found myself crying—not for Henry, but for myself. And through it all, I couldn’t understand why I was so upset.

While making a cup of tea, an email pinged on my laptop, signaling me to my desk.

It was from Henry.

Hoping for an apology, I opened it immediately—only to find a detailed bill listing every single expense that Henry claimed to have incurred on my behalf over the duration of our relationship.

Kyra, please make the payment soon. I need to move on, and you need to make things right with me. I cannot believe I wasted so much time and money on you.

I saw red—a hazy fury took over my sight. My head pounded, and my heart was ready to burst with the flood of feelings that were unleashed by Henry’s email.

“This is insane!” I screamed at the screen.

I shut off my laptop and made myself some soup. Henry and his delusional state of mind could wait. I wasn’t going to pay anything back. I was done with him.

As I cut up some garlic bread, I had an idea.

My friend, Brent, who hated Henry—was a lawyer and he loved a challenge.

“Hey, it’s me,” I said, calling him while I waited for the soup to get ready. “I’ve got a bit of a situation with Henry, and I think I need to hit back with something clever.”

Brent was intrigued. He chuckled and asked me to explain.

“Tell me everything, Kyra,” he said.

The next day, I met Brent at a coffee shop, where we planned on thinking up the next step where I could get back at Henry.

Brent ordered us coffee and pastries, while I pulled up the email from Henry.

As we laid out his claims against my emotional tolls—the late-night anxiety, the therapy costs—he burst out laughing.

“This is actually genius. Let’s draft up a counter-invoice.”

Our response was meticulously calculated, and I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of satisfaction sending it back to him.

This inspired me to start a blog about my journey of recovery and empowerment. To my surprise, the blog resonated with many, and soon, a publisher reached out with an interest in turning my experiences into a book.

On the other hand, Henry’s pursuit for repayment dwindled, especially once he realized the potential public fallout and legal ramifications.

“I cannot believe that you did that, Kyra,” Henry said. “People are messaging me constantly now. Why would you embarrass me like that? Why would you post the invoice I sent you? You owe me!”

I sat in front of the TV and let Henry vent on speaker.

I had absolutely no intention of explaining myself. My blog did expose him—and sure, I did post the invoice. But it was my way of healing through the entire ordeal.

But as always, Henry had to make it about himself. He commented on some of the blog posts, stating that I was yet to pay him for everything.

In reply, other readers let him have it—calling him out on his selfishness.

When Brent came over for dinner, he sat down and chuckled.

“Looks like Henry got the message,” Brent said. “He has dropped all demands. It seems like he just didn’t want to risk any further exposure.”

In the end, not only did I manage to counter his pettiness with strength, but I also carved out a new path for myself.

This wasn’t just about a breakup recovery—it was a rebirth.

What would you have done?

Dad Grows Suspicious After Noticing His Daughter Lingers on the School Bus Longer Than Other Kids — Story of the Day

A father worried about why his daughter often remained behind in the school bus after others left, so he decided to find answers. What he found was not what he expected.

Benjamin Bruce was a single dad who had to step in to become his child’s mother after she passed away. Their daughter, Emily, had been six when it happened.

Ben loved his daughter because, to him, she was all that was left of his beloved wife, and he had also promised her that Emily would be well taken care of no matter what.

To that end, Ben tried his best to juggle work while being present in his daughter’s life. He had no other family he trusted to look after her, so he had to do everything himself.

The first couple of years were rough on him as a parent, and just as he was acclimatizing to the rollercoaster, his daughter hit puberty, and at that point, things got wilder.

She suddenly started going through physical changes right before his eyes, and he knew what they meant — the boys would be coming for her. How could they not; his daughter had his late wife’s red hair and deep green eyes that seemed designed to mesmerize.

Even Ben was not immune to her eyes and had fallen prey to her will multiple times over the years. When she clocked 12, two years after she hit puberty, Emily discovered boys.

That led to her paying a lot of attention to her hair and appearance because she wanted to look good for her school crush. Ben was prepared to beat back boys with a stick if need be, but what he was not ready for was caring for his daughter’s looks.

Emily had to do that herself, but she was terrible at it with no role model to learn from. Ben often just cut her hair short as a child because he knew nothing about hair care, but he had to respect her wishes to keep her hair longer as she grew older.

There was little he would not do for his child, so to help her, he started brushing her hair when it was long enough. He was a big man, and even though he tried to be gentle, he occasionally pulled it out.

“Ouch!!!!” she yelled one day.

“I’m sorry baby,” he apologized quickly, as he always did.

“You need to be more gentle daddy,” she would admonish him sometimes.

Other times, she just endured the pain because she did not want to make her father feel terrible for causing it. Ben felt the sting of his failure each time his daughter complained of her hair getting pulled out, and that made him try to cut her hair again.

“Just get rid of it all,” he would say when they argued about it sometimes. “Your mom kept her hair cropped short and she still looked wonderful.”

“Daddy, I will no longer cut my hair, look how slow its growth is because of how often you cut it in the past,” she would shoot back. In any case, Ben never won the arguments, but he didn’t need to; they stopped coming up after a short while.

Shortly after that, he noticed that his daughter started getting tardy notices from her class teacher, Mrs. Flynn. So he called the woman to find out.

“That’s right, Mr. Bruce. Your daughter has five tardy notices this week alone. Is there anything going on I should know about?” the woman asked him.

“Nothing is going on. Things have been great at home for some time now and I do release her to join the bus early so I’m sure she makes it to school when others do,” he explained.

“Did you notice anything going on with her this past week?” Ben asked.

“Well, I was running late for class once and I saw her alight from the bus rather late even though she should have been in class by that time. The driver probably knows something about it because only they can access the bus at any time.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Flynn, I’ll get to the bottom of this,” Ben told her before ending the call.

Worried about why his daughter was spending extra time on a bus, Ben followed her the next day. True to what Mrs. Flynn told him, he noticed that everyone on the bus alighted when it arrived on the school grounds — everyone but his daughter.

As soon as he could, Ben burst into the bus in a rush thinking the worst but was instead met with the scene of a nice 40-year-old woman combing his daughter’s hair. The woman, Madeline, was the bus driver.

“Mr. Bruce?” the woman exclaimed at his sudden entry as Emily looked up, surprised to see her father.

“Dad? What are you doing here?”

“Hello ma’am,” Ben said after clearing his throat and righting himself. “Sorry about barging in, but I heard my daughter was getting tardy notices so I came to see why.”

“Oh, well in that case, here’s why,” the woman said, gesturing to his daughter’s hair. “I noticed how she seemed to struggle with her hair so I offered to help her brush it every day before she goes to class because she says her rough hair often makes her feel bad.”

“Honey,” Ben said to his daughter. “You never told me this.”

“I just didn’t want you to worry about it,” Emily defended.

Later that day, Ben invited Madeline for coffee. When the bus driver heard about what happened to his wife, she started to cry.

She herself was a cancer survivor, and she was well aware of how lucky she was to have pulled through and was grateful that she could still be there for her own children.

Madeline was convinced she survived for the kids on the bus who needed somebody to talk to or do their hair or whatever, so she begged Ben to find a compromise that would help his daughter.

To that end, Ben spoke to Mrs. Flynn, her teacher, and after explaining things to the woman, Emily was never given a tardy notice again. Ben was grateful to Madeline, and he remained close friends with her for a long time.

What did we learn from this story?

Never jump to conclusions. Ben gave himself a fright when he immediately assumed something sinful was happening between the bus driver and his child, and if he had not taken the pains to confirm it, things might have taken a terrible turn.
Give back when you can. Madeline believed he was spared from death to take care of other kids, and that was what she did. Caring for those kids was her way of giving back, and it left her feeling fulfilled, especially since she was able to touch lives like Emily’s and Ben’s.
Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.

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