Evil Stepmothers Who Met Their Match: Stories of Karma Catching Up in the Most Unexpected Ways

Five gripping tales reveal what happens when karma takes center stage. From a sabotaged prom to a wedding day showdown, stolen dreams, and shocking secrets, these stepmothers’ schemes backfire in ways no one saw coming. Justice has never been so unexpected — or so satisfying.

Stepmothers who have long reveled in their schemes and manipulations finally meet their match in this compilation! With a mix of drama, humor, and poetic irony, these stories deliver a satisfying dose of comeuppance, proving no one is immune to the clever hand of karma.

A confident teen girl | Source: Midjourney

A confident teen girl | Source: Midjourney

My Stepmom Secretly Canceled My Prom Hair Appointment to Ruin My Day – But Her Jaw Dropped When a Limousine Showed Up for Me

Seven years ago, my mom passed away from pneumonia. Before I knew it, my dad was seeing Carla, and a year later, he married her.

“Your father doesn’t waste any time, does he?” my aunt sniffed on their wedding day.

A little girl and her aunt | Source: Midjourney

A little girl and her aunt | Source: Midjourney

Living with my new step-brother, Mason, and Carla was fine at first, but Carla’s passive-aggressive jabs soon started piling up. I remember once I caught her staring at me.

“You look too much like your mother, Emily,” she said. “No wonder your father gives Mason more attention.”

I sighed and ignored her, trying not to let her words get to me.

A close up of a woman | Source: Midjourney

A close up of a woman | Source: Midjourney

My dad, of course, didn’t notice a thing. And she loved being able to taunt me without any repercussions.

Fast forward to prom season. I’d saved my babysitting money for months to buy a gorgeous violet dress. It reminded me of Mom because violet was her favorite color.

Prom was going to be my night. I just knew it. I’d even booked a hair appointment at a fancy salon. Everything was set. But then the big day came, and Carla ruined it.

An upset girl | Source: Midjourney

An upset girl | Source: Midjourney

When I got to the salon, the receptionist told me my appointment was canceled.

“I didn’t cancel!” I exclaimed. “Why would I? Prom is this evening!”

“Calm down, honey,” the receptionist said. She went to get the hairdresser, who looked very uncomfortable when they returned.

A close up of a woman | Source: Midjourney

A close up of a woman | Source: Midjourney

“I got a call earlier today to cancel your appointment, Emily,” she told me. “I assumed it was your Mom?”

My heart dropped. I was still processing everything when I looked over and saw her.

Carla! Sitting there, getting her hair done. Of course. Carla had canceled my appointment.

A woman getting her hair done | Source: Midjourney

A woman getting her hair done | Source: Midjourney

I ran out of the salon, my head spinning. My perfect prom was falling apart around me.

When I got home, I locked myself in my room. Tears poured down my face as I tried to style my hair, but nothing looked good.

I stared at my dress, feeling like an idiot for telling Carla my plans in passing.

A prom dress hanging in a closet | Source: Midjourney

A prom dress hanging in a closet | Source: Midjourney

I wasn’t even sure I wanted to go to prom anymore. What was the point? I was already upset and didn’t feel like anything good could come from this.

Suddenly, I heard honking outside. I dragged myself to the window, expecting to see a commotion on the road. But when I looked out, my jaw dropped.

A glossy black limousine was parked in front of our house.

A sleek black limousine parked outside | Source: Midjourney

A sleek black limousine parked outside | Source: Midjourney

There was no way that the car was for me. My friends’ parents had said no when we first discussed hiring a limo. Nevertheless, I ran downstairs.

When I reached the doorway, the driver stepped out and approached our front door. My dad, who had been as clueless as ever during all this, stood on our porch looking confused.

“I’m here for Miss Emily, sir,” the driver said, holding out a small card.

A chauffer holding a note | Source: Midjourney

A chauffer holding a note | Source: Midjourney

Miss Emily? Me? I hesitantly took the card and opened it. Inside, written in neat handwriting, were the words:

To my beautiful sister, Emily. I know you’ve had a rough time lately, but you deserve the best night ever! Enjoy the limo, and don’t worry about a thing. I’ve been saving all my birthday and Christmas money.

Have a magical night, sis.

Love, Mason.

A teenage girl reading a note | Source: Midjourney

A teenage girl reading a note | Source: Midjourney

Mason? My 11-year-old stepbrother did this?

I burst into tears again, but this time from pure shock and gratitude. I ran upstairs to find Mason in his room, grinning like he’d just pulled off the ultimate prank.

“I heard Mom on the phone this morning,” he said, shrugging like this wasn’t a big deal. “Canceling your appointment wasn’t fair at all.”

A smiling boy in his bedroom | Source: Midjourney

A smiling boy in his bedroom | Source: Midjourney

“But did you really use your money?” I asked him, feeling horrible.

“Not really,” he grinned. “See, Mom has been saving to buy some fancy necklace. After she left this morning, I took some money from her stash and went to Mr. Johnson next door. He owns the limo company, remember?”

But Mason didn’t stop there.

A smiling girl | Source: Midjourney

A smiling girl | Source: Midjourney

“There’s more, Em,” he said. “Mrs. Evans, from across the road? Her daughter is a stylist at the mall. She’s coming here to do your hair and makeup soon.”

Just as the words left his mouth, the doorbell rang.

“That should be her!” Mason said. “Go wash your face. I’ll send her up.”

A stylist holding her make up bag | Source: Midjourney

A stylist holding her make up bag | Source: Midjourney

Twenty minutes later, I looked like a princess. I just wished my mom was around to fuss over me. I wanted a hug from her more than anything.

When Carla drove into our driveway, I was already outside, stepping into the limo like a movie star.

Her jaw dropped.

A smiling teenage girl dressed for prom | Source: Midjourney

A smiling teenage girl dressed for prom | Source: Midjourney

“Richard? Did you do this?” I heard her shriek to my father before the driver closed the door.

Prom was everything I had hoped for. When I arrived at the hall in the limo, heads turned. I was glowing, and I knew it. For the first time in a long time, I felt like my mom was right there with me.

The whole night was pure magic.

Teenage girls at prom | Source: Midjourney

Teenage girls at prom | Source: Midjourney

As for Carla, I hope she learned a lesson. You can’t mess with someone’s joy and get away with it… especially if your son is going to save the day!

My Stepmom Stole $5,000 from My College Fund to Get Veneers for Herself — Karma Hit Her Hard

I’m Kristen, your average 17-year-old. My mom passed away when I was young, but she left behind a college fund. It wasn’t huge, but it was a start to secure my future.

A distressed teenage girl lost in deep thought | Source: Midjourney

A distressed teenage girl lost in deep thought | Source: Midjourney

My dad, Bob, and I had been adding to it, mostly from my part-time gigs tutoring kids and babysitting.

Everything was on track until my stepmother Tracy stole $5000 from me.

If vanity were an Olympic sport, Tracy would make Narcissus look like an amateur. She spends hours in front of the mirror but never has time for anything that really matters, like, oh I don’t know, being a decent human.

A senior woman applying lipstick | Source: Pexels

A senior woman applying lipstick | Source: Pexels

One day, I came home to find Tracy grinning like a Cheshire cat, except her teeth looked more like construction cones dipped in mustard.

“Kristen, darling!” she chirped. “Guess what? I’m getting veneers! I borrowed a little from your college fund to make it happen. Just $5,000!”

I felt like I’d just been sucker-punched. “You did WHAT? You STOLE my college fund?”

Tracy rolled her eyes dramatically. “Stole? I’m family. It’s not a big deal, honey!”

A shocked teenage girl | Source: Midjourney

A shocked teenage girl | Source: Midjourney

“You had NO RIGHT! That money’s for my future. My mom set it up for me.”

“Oh, save the theatrics! It’s just money. And your father agreed to it,” Tracy winked.

Now, that was a lie. Dad wouldn’t agree to this in a million years. I stormed out and immediately called Dad, who was just as shocked as I was.

A furious young girl frowning | Source: Midjourney

A furious young girl frowning | Source: Midjourney

“I’ll talk to her,” he promised. In Dad’s terms, that meant “I’ll mention it once and hope it magically resolves itself.”

A few weeks later, Tracy got her veneers. She strutted around the house, flashing her new teeth at every opportunity. It was like living with a deranged lighthouse.

But the best was yet to come.

A young lady talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

A young lady talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

A month after her “transformation,” Tracy threw a BBQ to show off her new chompers to the entire neighborhood.

“Ladies, gather ’round!” Tracy announced, clinking her wine glass with a spoon. “I simply must tell you about my transformation! It’s all thanks to the marvelous Dr. Kapoor,” Tracy gushed. “He’s not just a dentist, he’s an artist!”

I rolled my eyes so hard I could practically see my brain.

A smiling senior woman holding a wine glass and bottle | Source: Pexels

A smiling senior woman holding a wine glass and bottle | Source: Pexels

Just then, Tracy set her wine glass down and reached for a piece of corn on the cob. “You know, ladies, life is all about taking chances and—”

C-R-A-C-K! The sound echoed across the backyard like a gunshot. Tracy’s eyes went wide, her hand flying to her mouth.

There, nestled in the butter of her corn on the cob, was one of her precious veneers. The gap in her smile was so big, it could swallow a whole lollipop!

Close-up of a shocked woman with a missing tooth | Source: Midjourney

Close-up of a shocked woman with a missing tooth | Source: Midjourney

“I… I…” Tracy stammered, suddenly sounding like she was auditioning for the role of Sylvester the Cat. “Ekthcuthe me!”

She bolted into the house, leaving behind a yard full of bewildered guests and one very satisfied stepdaughter trying desperately not to burst into maniacal laughter.

When she called Dr. Kapoor a few days later, I overheard a conversation that was music to my ears.

A young lady laughing | Source: Midjourney

A young lady laughing | Source: Midjourney

Turns out, Tracy had opted for the bargain basement veneers and would have to pay a hefty chunk to redo the whole veneer! Karma had just given Tracy a spanking.

Dad, finally growing a backbone, confronted Tracy that evening.

“We need to talk about Kristen’s college fund,” he said, his voice firm (for the first time in a very looooong time! Way to go, Daddy!)

A senior man frowning | Source: Midjourney

A senior man frowning | Source: Midjourney

“You’re going to pay back every cent you took from Kristen’s fund,” he said. “And if you can’t… well, I think we need to reevaluate this situation.”

In the following weeks, the neighborhood buzzed with gossip about Tracy’s “dental disaster.” She couldn’t show her face without someone asking about her “million-dollar thmile.”

As for me? Dad made good on his promise. He ensured Tracy repaid every cent, and he’s been working overtime to add extra cash to my college fund.

Close-up of a man holding money | Source: Pexels

Close-up of a man holding money | Source: Pexels

My Stepmom Came to My Wedding in a White Dress, Saying She ‘Deserves Attention Too’ – So My Husband Taught Her a Real Lesson

Linda, my stepmother, came into my life after Mom passed away when I was ten. She loved being the center of attention.

With my wedding day approaching, I knew Linda would find a way to make the day about her. She always did.

I was trying hard not to worry about it the day I met up with Sarah, my best friend and maid of honor, at the wedding planner’s office.

Two female friends sharing a hug | Source: Pexels

Two female friends sharing a hug | Source: Pexels

We entered the wedding planner, Grace’s office, and she immediately dropped a bombshell.

“Your stepmother requested to be seated in the front row and insisted on giving a speech during the reception, Alexandra,” she said, glancing up from her notes.

I was stunned. I’d chosen to honor my late mother by reserving a seat for her in the front row. Linda knew this. How could she?

A worried woman | Source: Pexels

A worried woman | Source: Pexels

I sighed, feeling the familiar frustration rise. “She always has to make everything about herself. I bet she’s got some grand performance in mind!”

Sarah leaned in closer. “We need to be prepared for whatever she’s planning.”

Grace looked at me with a concerned expression. “How would you like to handle this, Alexandra?”

A wedding planner | Source: Midjourney

A wedding planner | Source: Midjourney

At my request, Grace agreed to explain to Linda once more that I’d reserved the front-row seat to honor my late mom. She would also dissuade Linda from giving a speech.

As we left Grace’s office, Sarah squeezed my arm.

“Don’t worry, Alex. We’ve got this. Linda won’t ruin your day.”

A woman getting consoled by a friend | Source: Pexels

A woman getting consoled by a friend | Source: Pexels

Once I got home, I shared my concerns with Tom.

“Linda turns everything into a spectacle,” I moaned. “I’m afraid Linda will make our wedding about her.”

Tom smiled reassuringly. “I’ve got a plan. Let her have her moment. It’ll all work out.”

“What kind of plan?” I asked, curious.

A woman sitting on a chair and posing | Source: Pexels

A woman sitting on a chair and posing | Source: Pexels

He kissed my forehead. “Just trust me. It’s a surprise. But I promise, it’ll keep the focus where it should be — on us and your mom’s memory.”

I sighed, feeling a bit better. “I hope so. I just want everything to go smoothly. Linda can be so unpredictable.”

Tom squeezed my hand. “I know. But we’ve got this.”

A woman holding a man's hand | Source: Pexels

A woman holding a man’s hand | Source: Pexels

Soon, the wedding day arrived.

While I was still in my bathrobe getting ready, Sarah burst into the room, her face pale.

“You won’t believe this,” she said, pulling me to the window.

I looked out and saw Linda emerging in a full-length white wedding dress.

An elderly woman posing in her wedding gown | Source: Midjourney

An elderly woman posing in her wedding gown | Source: Midjourney

“What the…” Okay, this was something I didn’t see coming.

“Linda, what are you doing? You can’t wear white to my wedding!” I stormed over to her, unable to hide my fury.

She smirked, not showing even one ounce of regret. “You’re young, Alexandra. You have your whole life ahead of you. This might be my last chance to feel like a bride again. I deserve this attention.”

A smiling elderly woman in a wedding dress | Source: Midjourney

A smiling elderly woman in a wedding dress | Source: Midjourney

I felt my anger rising, but Tom pulled me aside.

“Trust me, we’ll sort this out later,” he whispered with a mischievous smile.

“But Tom, how could she?”

“Trust me, okay?” he said, and I relented.

A newly wed couple | Source: Pexels

A newly wed couple | Source: Pexels

The ceremony proceeded, with Linda sitting in the front row, basking in her stolen spotlight. She’d clearly railroaded Grace to get what she wanted.

When it was time for the speeches, Linda stood up. But before she could speak, Tom took the microphone.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I’d like to share a special video tribute to Alexandra’s late mother.”

The lights dimmed, and a beautiful montage of my mom played on the screen.

A bride looking at a screen | Source: Midjourney

A bride looking at a screen | Source: Midjourney

As the tribute ended, Tom looked at me with a knowing smile. “This day is about honoring your mother and our love, Alex. No one can take that away.”

Then he looked at Linda. “Linda, could you join us up here?” he asked.

As she made her way to the stage, Tom continued, “Linda has always been a star in her own right, so we’ve decided to let her shine even more.”

A groom talking on the mic | Source: Midjourney

A groom talking on the mic | Source: Midjourney

Another slideshow began to play. The first few pictures showed Linda in her white dress from various angles at the wedding. But then, Tom’s twist came.

The next photo showed Linda sneaking into my bridal suite earlier that morning. She was caught on camera trying on my wedding veil and twirling around with a bouquet she’d taken from the floral arrangements.

The room gasped, and Linda’s face turned red.

A gray-haired woman wearing a veil | Source: Pexels

A gray-haired woman wearing a veil | Source: Pexels

“Wait, Linda, we’re not finished,” Tom said, motioning to the DJ.

Suddenly, the speakers played a recording of Linda on the phone with her friend, boasting about her plan to outshine me.

“This little princess needs to learn her place. I’ve waited long enough to have my moment,” her voice echoed through the hall.

An angry elderly bride | Source: Midjourney

An angry elderly bride | Source: Midjourney

The crowd was stunned, and a few people even booed. Tom wrapped his arms around me and whispered, “I told you I had it covered.”

Linda, red-faced and cornered, slipped out of the hall as quietly as she could. Tom and I shared a smile, knowing we taught her a lesson.

She was in the spotlight as she was wanted, but for all the wrong reasons.

A crying elderly woman | Source: Midjourney

A crying elderly woman | Source: Midjourney

I Found a Lace Robe Hidden in My Husband’s Closet – Then I Saw My Stepmother Wearing It

When my dad passed away last year, my husband, Jason, our six-year-old daughter, Emma, and I moved in to help my stepmother, Lorraine.

Living with her was like walking on a tightrope. Everything about Lorraine was sharp — her stilettos, her words, even the way she eyed Jason when she thought I wasn’t looking.

An older woman in a black dress | Source: Midjourney

An older woman in a black dress | Source: Midjourney

But family is family, and I tried to make it work.

Until I found the robe.

I was folding Jason’s laundry. As I opened his closet to hang up a shirt, I noticed a small glossy gift bag shoved into the corner, partly hidden beneath his jackets.

A glossy gift bag | Source: Midjourney

A glossy gift bag | Source: Midjourney

I pulled it out, my pulse quickening when I saw what was inside: a lace robe, sheer and intimate.

My first thought was that Jason had bought it for me. If only that had been the truth.

A few days later, Lorraine called me into her room.

“Oh, Calla, sweetheart,” she cooed. “You won’t believe what my new boyfriend got me!”

A maroon bedroom | Source: Midjourney

A maroon bedroom | Source: Midjourney

New boyfriend? Lorraine hadn’t mentioned anyone else before.

When I walked in, my stomach dropped.

There she was, draped in the robe I’d found in Jason’s closet. She twirled, the lace floating around her like some cruel joke.

A smiling older woman | Source: Midjourney

A smiling older woman | Source: Midjourney

Was Jason…? No. He wouldn’t. Lorraine?

My knees felt weak. I stumbled out of her room, her laughter echoing behind me.

That night, I cornered Jason after I finished reading with Emma.

A mom and daughter reading a book | Source: Midjourney

A mom and daughter reading a book | Source: Midjourney

“Did you give Lorraine a robe? The lace one I found in your closet?”

Jason’s face twisted in disbelief. “What are you talking about?”

“She showed me a robe earlier,” I said tearfully. “The same one I found in your closet.”

Jason’s jaw dropped. “You think I’d buy her something like that? Are you serious right now? I don’t know where she got this robe, but it wasn’t from me.”

A woman holding her head | Source: Midjourney

A woman holding her head | Source: Midjourney

Over the next few days, I couldn’t shake the unease. Lorraine’s smug looks and Jason’s denial all felt like pieces of a puzzle I couldn’t solve.

Then, one afternoon, I heard Lorraine on the phone.

“Yes, Kerry, of course, I planted it,” she whispered. “That idiot husband of hers didn’t even notice. It’s only a matter of time before they’re at each other’s throats. Once they leave, this house will finally be mine.”

A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

That night, I told Jason everything I’d overheard.

“She’s trying to ruin our marriage,” he said, his voice tight. “And to think that we uprooted Emma for this? This ends now.”

Over breakfast the next morning, I casually mentioned to Lorraine that Jason and I were considering moving out. And that evening, Jason and I invited a lawyer friend over for dinner, someone Lorraine didn’t recognize.

Bagels on a counter | Source: Midjourney

Bagels on a counter | Source: Midjourney

We told her he was a “realtor” helping us look for new homes, but honestly, we just wanted to figure out where we stood. I wasn’t sure that I wanted the house, but Jason had persuaded me to fight.

“Come on, honey,” he said. “Your dad built this with his hands. This home has been around since you were a child. You want Lorraine to have it, really?”

A week later, we called a “family meeting” in the living room. Lorraine sauntered in, confident and smug as if she’d already won. Jason handed her a stack of papers.

A pile of paper on a coffee table | Source: Midjourney

A pile of paper on a coffee table | Source: Midjourney

“What’s this?” she asked.

“It’s the house deed,” Jason said calmly. “It turns out that Calla and I are the primary beneficiaries. You don’t own this house, Lorraine. We do.”

“That’s not possible. Your father would never leave me with nothing…”

“He left you with a lot of money. But this is my childhood home. Of course, he’d want me to have it.”

A shocked older woman | Source: Midjourney

A shocked older woman | Source: Midjourney

Within a week, Lorraine was gone.

And that robe?

Lorraine had conveniently left it behind. I donated it to charity with the rest of the things she’d abandoned. Let someone else enjoy it because I sure as hell wasn’t keeping it.

A cozy reading room | Source: Midjourney

A cozy reading room | Source: Midjourney

I Overslept on the Morning of My Crucial College Entrance Exams Because Someone Turned off My Alarm

Ever since I was little, I dreamed of becoming a doctor. When my mom died of cancer, that dream only grew stronger. I worked toward my dream for years. Today was finally the day of my medical entrance exam.

A dreaming woman | Source: Pexels

A dreaming woman | Source: Pexels

Last night, I did everything to make sure I wouldn’t oversleep. I set three alarms on my phone. But when I woke up and reached for my phone, my heart stopped.

It was 9:55 a.m. My exam was starting at 10:00.

“No, no, no! This can’t be happening!” I threw my blankets off and grabbed my phone. All three alarms were turned off.

A shocked woman in her bed | Source: Pexels

A shocked woman in her bed | Source: Pexels

I bolted down the stairs, half-dressed.

“Linda!” I called out, desperately looking for my stepmom. “Linda, please! I need a ride! My exam is in five minutes!”

She was in the kitchen, sipping her coffee calmly. “You’re late already. You should’ve set an alarm.”

“I did!” I shouted, feeling the sting of frustration and panic in my voice. “Three of them! But somehow, they got turned off.”

An angry woman | Source: Pexels

An angry woman | Source: Pexels

She shrugged, a slight smirk on her lips. “Maybe this is a sign that you’re not cut out for med school, hmm?”

I stood there, feeling my face grow hot, my mind swirling with disbelief and desperation. I headed for the door, knowing I’d never make it on foot, but desperate enough to try.

“I know who did it,” my little brother Jason said then.

A young boy | Source: Pexels

A young boy | Source: Pexels

He looked at Linda cautiously. “I saw her. Last night. She turned off your alarms, Emily.”

Linda shot him a sharp look. “Jason, stop making up stories,” she hissed.

Jason gulped but didn’t back down. “I’m not lying! I saw you go into her room, and turn off the alarms. You said she didn’t need to be at that stupid exam, anyway.”

A serious boy | Source: Pexels

A serious boy | Source: Pexels

“Fine. Yes, I did it,” Linda sighed. “You’re not fit to be a doctor. It’s a waste of time, energy, and, frankly, a lot of money that your dad could spend on something worthwhile.”

Just as I was about to push past her and leave, I heard sirens in the distance, heading toward our house.

Jason gave me a small, hopeful smile. “Don’t worry, Em. I called for help.”

The police sirens | Source: Pexels

The police sirens | Source: Pexels

“You are the bad guy, Linda,” he said, his eyes fierce despite his small frame. “Emily is going to be a doctor one day. Mom would be proud of her.”

Linda’s face twisted, and before she could say anything, the front door opened, and two police officers stepped inside.

Jason didn’t miss a beat. “I called you,” he said. “My sister needs to get to her entrance exam. Linda turned off her alarms so she’d miss it.”

A policeman on duty | Source: Pexels

A policeman on duty | Source: Pexels

The officers exchanged a glance, then turned to me. “Is that true?” the male officer asked.

“Yes,” I whispered. “I have to get to the school right now, or I’ll lose my chance to take the exam.”

“Alright, young lady,” the female officer said. “We’ll get you there.”

Linda’s face contorted with disbelief. “Wait, you’re actually going to escort her?”

“It’s our job to help people,” the officer replied.

A serious policeman | Source: Pexels

A serious policeman | Source: Pexels

The officers helped me into their squad car, and we sped down the road with the sirens blaring. We pulled up at the exam center after the doors had been closed.

One of the proctors noticed us and approached, looking confused. “Ma’am, the exam has begun,” he said, glancing at the officers.

The policewoman explained quickly. “This young lady had her alarms sabotaged at home, but she’s here now. If there’s any way she can sit for the exam…”

A policewoman talking | Source: Pexels

A policewoman talking | Source: Pexels

The proctor’s stern face softened as he listened. He looked me in the eyes, then gave a brief nod. “Alright. Go on in.”

“Thank you,” I managed, barely believing I’d made it.

I found my seat, still rattled but refusing to let the morning’s events get the better of me. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes for a second, and thought of my mom. This was my moment, and I wasn’t going to let anyone take it from me. I picked up my pencil and began the test.

A young woman writing an exam | Source: Pexels

A young woman writing an exam | Source: Pexels

Hours later, I exited the exam room, exhausted but relieved. I headed home, where my dad was waiting. Jason and I told him everything.

“Is this true?” he demanded, glaring at Linda.

Linda’s eyes darted between us. “I… I was just trying to keep her from making a mistake.”

“You sabotaged her dreams because of your selfishness,” my dad said coldly. “You’re not staying here another night.”

An angry man | Source: Pexels

An angry man | Source: Pexels

Linda’s face turned pale as she realized he was serious. She tried to protest, but he shook his head firmly.

“Pack your things, Linda. This family deserves better than this.”

Jason and I stood by the door, watching as she finally left. There was no satisfaction in it, just a sense of justice and relief.

A woman looking through a gate | Source: Pexels

A woman looking through a gate | Source: Pexels

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.

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

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.

A happy smiling woman | Source: Unsplash

A happy smiling woman | Source: Unsplash

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.

The interior of a restaurant | Source: Unsplash

The interior of a restaurant | Source: Unsplash

“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.

A couple holding hands | Source: Unsplash

A couple holding hands | Source: Unsplash

“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.

Salsa and chips | Source: Pexels

Salsa and chips | Source: Pexels

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.”

A frozen margarita on a table | Source: Pexels

A frozen margarita on a table | Source: Pexels

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.”

A smiling man | Source: Unsplash

A smiling man | Source: Unsplash

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!”

A person holding a bouquet of flowers | Source: Unsplash

A person holding a bouquet of flowers | Source: Unsplash

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.

A man driving | Source: Unsplash

A man driving | Source: Unsplash

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.”

Two glasses of champagne | Source: Unsplash

Two glasses of champagne | Source: Unsplash

“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.”

A person looking at a menu | Source: Unsplash

A person looking at a menu | Source: Unsplash

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.

A meal on a table | Source: Pexels

A meal on a table | Source: Pexels

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.

A smiling waitress | Source: Pexels

A smiling waitress | Source: Pexels

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.

A close-up of a frowning man | Source: Unsplash

A close-up of a frowning man | Source: Unsplash

“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.”

A black handbag on a table | Source: Unsplash

A black handbag on a table | Source: Unsplash

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.

A close-up of a slightly frowning woman | Source: Unsplash

A close-up of a slightly frowning woman | Source: Unsplash

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.

A person holding a card machine | Source: Unsplash

A person holding a card machine | Source: Unsplash

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.

A woman holding a phone | Source: Unsplash

A woman holding a phone | Source: Unsplash

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.

A man facing away from the camera | Source: Unsplash

A man facing away from the camera | Source: Unsplash

“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.

A man holding a phone | Source: Unsplash

A man holding a phone | Source: Unsplash

“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.

A person holding gift bags | Source: Unsplash

A person holding gift bags | Source: Unsplash

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.”

A woman laughing | Source: Unsplash

A woman laughing | Source: Unsplash

“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.

A woman walking away | Source: Unsplash

A woman walking away | Source: Unsplash

What would you do?

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