My Boyfriend Demanded That I Give Him My Card to Pay Our Restaurant Bill

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.

I Set up a Hidden Camera in My Living Room to Catch My Husband Cheating — What I Found Out Instead Shattered Me

When my husband started acting strange, I suspected the worst. I decided to get actual proof of his betrayal, but what I discovered broke me down in tears! Luckily, the truth brought us closer than ever.

I had always considered myself a reasonable person, someone who approached situations with a level head. But when it came to my marriage, all that seemed to fly out the window! For weeks, maybe even months, a heavy cloud of doubt hung over my head. I believed my husband was cheating, but when I discovered the actual truth, I was shattered.

An unhappy woman | Source: Midjourney

An unhappy woman | Source: Midjourney

My husband, Damien, who once filled our home with laughter and light, had changed. He’d become distant, lied about spending our money, and became quiet, almost as if he was retreating into a shell I couldn’t penetrate.

It started small, with missing dinner a couple of times, staying late at work more often than usual, and hiding his phone, which was constantly buzzing with messages he wouldn’t explain.

A man looking at his phone | Source: Freepik

A man looking at his phone | Source: Freepik

At first, I tried brushing it off. People go through phases, I told myself. Maybe he was just stressed. But as the days turned into weeks, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. My mind spiraled into the darkest corners, whispering things I didn’t want to believe.

Was he seeing someone else? Was I losing him? Every time I confronted him, he would look at me with those tired eyes and offer some half-hearted excuse. “It’s just work, Lacy,” he’d say, forcing a smile. “Nothing to worry about.”

But his words felt hollow, and I couldn’t convince myself they were true.

A doubtful woman | Source: Midjourney

A doubtful woman | Source: Midjourney

The breaking point came one night when he came home long after midnight, reeking of whiskey. He slumped into bed without a word, leaving me wide awake and seething with anger and fear. I needed to know the truth, no matter how ugly it might be.

I’m not proud of what I’ve done, but if you were in my place, you might have done the same thing. I needed to see for myself what was really going on.

I hated the thought of spying on Damien, but the need to know the truth was stronger than the guilt gnawing at my conscience.

A woman deep in thought | Source: Midjourney

A woman deep in thought | Source: Midjourney

The next day, I dusted off my old nanny camera and, with trembling hands, set it up in our living room. I angled it just right so it would capture the entire room without being obvious. I wanted to see what he got up to when I wasn’t around.

I was prepared for the worst-case scenario, catching my husband with some other woman, someone probably younger. But, for the first few days, I couldn’t bring myself to check the footage. I was too afraid of having my greatest fears realized.

A woman setting up a nanny camera | Source: Midjourney

A woman setting up a nanny camera | Source: Midjourney

But the tension in our home continued to grow, with Damien becoming more and more withdrawn. I couldn’t take it any longer! One evening, after my husband once again retreated into his silent shell, I sat down with my laptop and pulled up the footage.

My heart pounded as I watched the screen. I saw Damien come home, looking as weary as ever. He didn’t even bother to turn on the lights, just collapsed onto the couch and buried his face in his hands. For a moment, I felt a pang of sympathy, but it was quickly overshadowed by my need for answers.

A woman watching footage on her laptop | Source: Pexels

A woman watching footage on her laptop | Source: Pexels

I fast-forwarded through the footage, watching him sit there, motionless, for what felt like an eternity. And then, he reached into his coat pocket. My breath caught in my throat. I couldn’t believe my eyes as he pulled out an envelope and withdrew a letter, unfolding it with trembling hands.

My dear husband of ten years began to read, and that’s when I saw it… the tears. They started slowly, just a few drops sliding down his cheeks. But soon, his shoulders began to shake, and he crumpled into himself, sobbing quietly in the darkness. I had never seen him cry. Never.

A man crying | Source: Freepik

A man crying | Source: Freepik

I stared at the screen, unable to process what I was seeing. There was no other woman, no secret phone calls or messages. Just Damien, alone in the dark, breaking down in a way I had never seen before.

I watched the scene over and over, my mind racing with possibilities. What was in that letter? Why was he hiding this from me? I couldn’t make sense of it, but one thing was clear: I needed to read that letter.

A shocked woman looking at something on her laptop | Source: Pexels

A shocked woman looking at something on her laptop | Source: Pexels

I noted which coat the envelope was in and made it a point to get a hold of it. I woke up in the middle of the night amid my fitful sleep. I couldn’t sleep because I was desperate to see what tragedy had gotten him so torn.

I rushed to where he’d put the letter and grabbed it as he slept. As I read the first lines, MY HEART SANK. There, right next to his name, it said that my husband was dying. Dying… that’s all my eyes could focus on. I couldn’t read anything else…

A shocked woman reading a letter | Source: Midjourney

A shocked woman reading a letter | Source: Midjourney

Confused, I put the envelope back and stayed up, waiting for Damien to wake up, my heart racing with anticipation. By the time he came into the kitchen, he looked even more exhausted than the night before.

His eyes were bloodshot, and there were dark circles under them as if he hadn’t slept in days. “Morning,” he mumbled, pouring himself a cup of coffee. He didn’t look at me, just stared into his cup like it held all the answers in the world.

A tired man holding a cup of coffee in the kitchen | Source: Midjourney

A tired man holding a cup of coffee in the kitchen | Source: Midjourney

“Damien, we need to talk,” I said, my voice trembling despite my efforts to stay calm.

He looked up at me, and for a moment, I saw a flicker of fear in his eyes. “What’s going on, Lacy?” he asked, his voice wary.

“I saw you last night,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “I know about the letter, Damien. I saw you crying. Please, just tell me what’s going on.”

The color drained from his face, and for a moment, I thought he might faint. He set down his coffee cup, his hands shaking, and stared at the table.

“Lacy, I didn’t want you to find out this way,” he whispered.

An upset man | Source: Midjourney

An upset man | Source: Midjourney

“What’s in the letter?” I pressed, leaning forward. “Please, just tell me the truth.”

He took a deep breath. “I’ve been diagnosed with something,” he finally said, his voice so quiet I almost didn’t hear him. “It’s… it’s not good, Lacy.”

My heart skipped a beat. “What do you mean? What’s wrong?”

Damien looked up at me, his eyes filled with tears. “It’s cancer,” he said, his voice cracking. “Terminal. The doctors gave me six months, maybe less.”

A sad man sharing heartbreaking news | Source: Midjourney

A sad man sharing heartbreaking news | Source: Midjourney

I felt like the floor had just fallen out from under me. The room spun, and I had to grab the edge of the table to steady myself.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I whispered, my voice breaking. “Why did you try to hide this from me?”

He reached out, taking my hand in his, his grip weak and trembling. “Because I didn’t want you to go through this,” he said, tears streaming down his face. “I didn’t want you to have to watch me die. I thought… I thought if I could just keep it to myself, maybe it would be easier for you.”

An emotional husband hands with his wife | Source: Midjourney

An emotional husband hands with his wife | Source: Midjourney

“Easier?” I repeated, my voice rising in disbelief. “How could you think that shutting me out would make this easier? We’re supposed to be a team, Damien. We’re supposed to face things together. You can’t just decide to go through this alone.”

“I know,” he whispered, his voice filled with regret. “I know, and I’m so sorry, my love. I was scared. I didn’t want you to see me like this, weak and broken. I thought I could protect you, but all I did was hurt you.”

A husband explaining himself to his wife | Source: Midjourney

A husband explaining himself to his wife | Source: Midjourney

I grabbed him and pulled him in for a tight hug, trying to hold back the tears threatening to spill over.

“You don’t have to protect me from this, babe. I’m your wife. I want to be there for you, no matter what. We’ll face this together, okay? No more secrets.”

He nodded, hugging me back, his eyes filled with gratitude and sorrow. “I don’t deserve you, Lacy,” he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. “But I’m so glad I have you.”

An emotional couple hugging | Source: Midjourney

An emotional couple hugging | Source: Midjourney

We held each other like that for a long time, crying for everything we were about to lose. I knew the road ahead would be unbearably hard, but I also knew that we would face it together.

Afterward, I couldn’t stop thinking about all the time we had lost, all the moments we could have spent together if he had just told me the truth. But I knew dwelling on it wouldn’t change anything. What mattered now was that we were in this together.

A woman deep in thought | Source: Midjourney

A woman deep in thought | Source: Midjourney

As the weeks passed, I noticed changes in Damien, both physically and emotionally. He began to open up more, sharing his fears and worries with me! We spent our days trying to make the most of the time we had left, finding small joys in everyday moments!

We went on walks in the park, had movie nights at home, and even started working on a bucket list of things we wanted to do together before it was too late! One day, as we sat on the porch, watching the sunset, my husband turned to me with a sad smile.

A happy couple sitting on the porch | Source: Midjourney

A happy couple sitting on the porch | Source: Midjourney

“I wish I had told you sooner, Lacy,” he said quietly. “I’ve wasted so much time hiding from you, from us.”

I shook my head, squeezing his hand. “Don’t think about that now, baby. We’re here together, and that’s what matters. We can’t change the past, but we can make the most of the time we have left.”

He nodded, his eyes glistening with tears. “I don’t want to leave you,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “But I’m so grateful for the time we’ve had. You’ve made these last few months bearable, my bunny. I don’t know how I would have done it without you.”

A happy couple bonding | Source: Midjourney

A happy couple bonding | Source: Midjourney

Tears welled up in my eyes as I leaned in, resting my head on his shoulder.

“You don’t have to do anything alone anymore, my angel. I’m here with you, every step of the way.”

We sat there, wrapped in each other’s arms, as the sun dipped below the horizon. At that moment, I realized something important. I had set out to catch Damien in a betrayal, convinced that he was hiding something terrible from me.

And while I had uncovered a truth far more devastating, it had also brought us closer together than we had been in years. For however long we had left, we would face it together, side by side, just as we always should have.

A couple sharing a happy moment | Source: Midjourney

A couple sharing a happy moment | Source: Midjourney

While Damien wasn’t cheating, in the following story, Ryan’s wife thinks he’s cheating when she finds incriminating evidence in their bedroom. The evidence led her down a rabbit hole when she discovered that she couldn’t trust him anymore. Her fears were finally confirmed when she found proof of his cheating in his car. Her revenge was sweet and swift!

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

Related Posts

Be the first to comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.


*