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?
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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.
Father Discovers Missing Daughter’s Bag, Finally Knows Where to Look
Derek sat on the edge of his bed, the weight of despair heavy on his chest. It had been a week since his daughter, Amber, had vanished without a trace. The vibrant laughter that usually filled their home had been replaced by an unbearable silence. He couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, and every minute stretched into an eternity filled with fear and anxiety. The police were doing their best, but as each day passed without new leads, Derek felt hope slipping away.
At the police station, the officer had assured him, “As soon as we know something, we will inform you immediately.” But Derek couldn’t shake the feeling that time was running out. With each tick of the clock, his dread deepened. The posters with Amber’s smiling face hung on the walls of the station, and he wondered if they were just reminders of his helplessness.
That evening, as Derek drove home, his mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, each one more desperate than the last. The streets felt darker than usual, and shadows loomed larger, each one a reminder of his daughter’s absence. Just when he thought he couldn’t bear the weight of his despair any longer, something caught his eye.
A homeless woman sat on the sidewalk, shivering in the chill of the evening, clutching a worn backpack that seemed eerily familiar. Derek’s heart raced as he pulled over. He approached her cautiously, the hope flickering within him like a candle in the wind. “Excuse me, where did you get that backpack?” he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.
The woman looked up, her eyes weary but sharp. “Found it at the bus station; some teenage girl left it behind,” she replied, her voice gravelly. Derek’s pulse quickened. He reached for the bag, his hands trembling as he unzipped it. Inside, he found a folded piece of paper. His heart leaped as he opened it to reveal an address labeled “Hostess Family.”
Without a second thought, he jumped back into his car and drove to the address, his mind racing with possibilities. Was it a clue? Had Amber been there? He clung to the hope that this could lead him to her.
Upon arrival, a woman answered the door, her expression puzzled. “I’m sorry, but I’ve never heard of Amber,” she said, shaking her head. Derek felt his heart sink. The glimmer of hope dimmed, and he fought back tears of frustration. With a heavy heart, he decided to return home, each mile a reminder of his lost daughter.
As he drove, his eyes caught sight of a familiar figure through the window of a café. It was Miranda, his ex-wife, sitting alone at a table. A knot of suspicion twisted in his stomach. Could Amber have come to see her? Driven by desperation, Derek parked and approached her.
“Miranda,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. “Have you seen Amber? She’s missing!”
Initially, Miranda shook her head, her expression guarded. “I don’t know anything, Derek.” But as Derek rifled through his memories of Amber’s belongings, he pulled out her inhaler from his pocket. It was a small item, but it felt like a lifeline. “I found this in your bag,” he said, holding it up. “What does this mean?”
The moment hung in the air, thick with tension. Miranda’s facade crumbled. “Okay, okay,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “She came to see me. But I thought she’d just want to talk. I didn’t know she’d run away.”
Suddenly, a figure appeared in the café doorway. Amber! She had overheard their conversation. Panic washed over her face, and she turned to flee. “Amber!” Derek shouted, his heart racing as he chased after her.
He found her a few blocks away, sobbing on a bench, her small frame shaking with emotion. “Amber!” he called out, desperation in his voice. She looked up, her tear-streaked face breaking his heart. Derek sat beside her, feeling the weight of the world pressing down on them both. “I’m so sorry, Dad. I didn’t mean to worry you,” she cried, her voice choked with remorse.
Derek wrapped his arms around her tightly, relief flooding through him. “It’s okay, sweetheart. You just wanted to meet your mom, didn’t you? But you scared me. I thought I’d lost you.”
Amber nodded, wiping her tears. “I just wanted to know her, Dad. I didn’t think…”
“I know, honey. But you’re grounded for two weeks,” he added, trying to lighten the mood with a playful tone.
A small smile broke through her tears, and Derek felt the tension in his heart ease. “Okay,” she said, sniffling but grateful to be back in his embrace.
As they sat there on that bench, the world around them faded into the background. In that moment, Derek realized that while the journey had been fraught with fear and uncertainty, they had found their way back to each other. They were a family, and no matter what challenges lay ahead, love would always guide them home.
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