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?

Millionaire Shocked to Find Out His Daughter and Four Grandkids Have Been Living in a Car for YEARS – The Story That Will Leave You Speechless

A woman who was kicked out of her wealthy father’s house at sixteen for marrying a poor man ended up living on the streets with her four children after her husband passed away.

Steve Walton was not happy when his butler informed him that Pastor Morris was waiting to see him. After a long flight from Singapore, he was tired and not interested in hearing the pastor’s lectures or requests for community support.

He had the pastor brought in and, showing his impatience, said, “Get on with it, man! What do you want this time?”

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Mr. Walton, I saw Susan,” the pastor said quietly. Steve’s heart nearly stopped. His only daughter had left his house nearly fifteen years ago, and he hadn’t seen her since.

“Susan?” Steve asked anxiously. “Where? When? How is she?”

“I was in Los Angeles, helping out a friend with a mission for the homeless, and that’s where I saw her,” the pastor explained.

“Was she volunteering? Did you tell her I’ve been looking for her?” Steve asked.

“No,” Pastor Morris replied gently. “She wasn’t a volunteer, Mr. Walton. She’s homeless. She and her children are living in a car.”

Steve felt so dizzy he had to sit down. “Homeless? My Susan? With children?” he gasped.

“I’m afraid so,” the pastor said. “And she wouldn’t even listen to me when I told her to come home.”

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“But why?” Steve asked angrily. “She’s not still with that loser, is she?”

“Her husband passed away three years ago, Mr. Walton,” the pastor explained. “She told me she wouldn’t bring her children into a house where their father was hated.”

Steve Walton felt a wave of old rage sweep over him. Even fifteen years later, Susan was still defying him! He remembered the scene in his study, and how Susan had looked him in the eyes as he ranted.

“Pregnant at sixteen, and by the GARDENER!” he had screamed. “We are going to have THAT taken care of, and HE’S fired! You will never see that man again!”

“THAT is my baby, daddy,” Susan had said with a trembling voice. “And HE is the man I love. I’m going to marry him.”

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“You marry that man and you’re on your own, Susan, do you hear?” Steve shouted furiously. “No more money, nothing! You marry him and you get out of my house!”

Susan had looked at him with tears in her eyes. “I love you, daddy,” she said. Then she turned and walked away. Despite hiring detectives to find her, no one had been able to trace her.

“How many children?” Steve asked Pastor Morris.

“Four,” the pastor replied. “Three girls and a boy. Beautiful children.”

Steve picked up his phone and demanded that his plane be prepared. “Pastor, would you come with me to Los Angeles and take me to my little girl?” he asked quietly.

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The pastor nodded, and within two hours, he and Steve were on Steve’s private jet heading south. When they landed, a limo was waiting to take them to a parking lot outside a large mall.

At the far end of the lot, they found a pickup truck with a tent set up in the back. Pastor Morris had told Steve that after Susan’s husband died in a work accident, the insurance company refused to pay out, and the bank foreclosed on their home.

Susan had packed her children and their few belongings into the old pickup. She worked as a cleaner at the mall and used the mall’s facilities. She also bought leftover food from the restaurants at the end of the day.

Despite everything, Susan managed to keep her four children fed, clean, and in school. As Steve and the pastor approached the truck, they heard cheerful voices and laughter. Two children tumbled out of the back, excited to see them.

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The oldest girl, around fourteen, was laughing as she tickled a boy of about seven. When Steve and Pastor Morris approached, the children stopped and stared.

“Mom!” the girl shouted. “That old preacher friend of yours is here!”

From inside the tent, a familiar voice asked, “Preacher Morris?” Susan then emerged, and Steve saw the shock on her face when she saw him standing next to the pastor.

“Daddy?” she asked, tears welling up in her eyes.

Steve was taken aback. His daughter was only thirty-one, but she looked much older. Her face was lined with worry and hardship, and her hands were rough from hard work.

“Susan,” Steve cried. “Look at you! Look at what HE did to my princess! I wanted so much more for you! And you married that loser! What could he have given you? Poverty?”

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Susan shook her head and said, “He loved me, Daddy, and he gave me four beautiful children. He passed away, and I had nowhere to go, but I’ve done my best for my kids. I will always love their father, just like I’ve always loved you.”

Steve found tears streaming down his face. “Forgive me, Susan,” he sobbed. “Please forgive me. Come home, I want you all to come home with me. Let me help you take care of the children!”

As Steve held his weeping daughter, he knew that everything would be alright. Susan introduced him to his three granddaughters and then placed her hand on the boy’s shoulder. “And this,” she smiled, “is little Stevie!”

“You named him after me?” Steve asked, amazed. “After what I did?”

Susan looked at her father and said softly, “I love you, Daddy. Don’t you know that?”

That afternoon, they all flew back to Texas together. It marked the start of a new, better life for the whole family.

What can we learn from this story?

– **Love Your Children Unconditionally:** Steve’s anger at Susan for loving someone poor led him to lose his daughter. Accept your children no matter who they love.

– **Don’t Judge People by Wealth:** Steve didn’t like Susan’s husband because he was poor, but he was a loving and dedicated father. Don’t judge people by their money or status.

Share this story with your friends. It might bring them hope and inspiration.

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