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.

At 60, I Found Love Again 9 Years After Losing My Husband – At the Wedding, My Late Husband’s Brother Yelled, ‘I Object!’

When Ellie decided to remarry at 60, nine years after losing her husband Richard, she thought her family and friends would celebrate her happiness. But as the priest asked if anyone objected, her late husband’s brother stood and shouted, “I object!” What followed was something she didn’t see coming.

For nine years, I grieved Richard’s loss and slowly rebuilt my life piece by piece. When I met Thomas, a kind widower who understood my pain, I thought I had finally found a second chance at happiness.

But not everyone was ready to let me move on.

A woman standing in her house | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in her house | Source: Midjourney

They say life begins at 60, and for me, it felt true.

After years of grief, I was ready to embrace love again, and when I met Thomas, my heart told me it was time to take a chance.

But before I tell you about our story, let me share a bit about my life.

Richard and I were married for 35 years, and we built a beautiful life together.

A young couple sitting together | Source: Pexels

A young couple sitting together | Source: Pexels

We had three wonderful children, Sophia, Liam, and Ben. Richard was the type of guy who’d do anything to keep his family happy, and that’s exactly what he did.

He was a loving husband and an incredible father. He worked tirelessly to ensure our kids were well-fed and was always there to support us.

We had our ups and downs like every couple, but his steady presence always made me feel secure no matter what life threw at us.

A man sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

A man sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

But all stories have to come to an end, right? Our story reached its final chapter when Richard was diagnosed with stage four cancer.

The doctors didn’t give us much hope, and despite trying every treatment available, the illness consumed him quickly.

I’ll never forget how he encouraged me to handle everything bravely. I was sitting by his bedside when he held my hand and looked straight into my eyes.

“Take care of the kids,” he said in a trembling voice. “Be strong for them. And don’t let this stop you from living.”

A couple holding hands | Source: Pexels

A couple holding hands | Source: Pexels

He passed away shortly after, and my world crumbled into pieces.

The first six months after his death were the hardest. I couldn’t go to the grocery store without breaking down because it reminded me of the times we shopped together.

Every corner of our home held memories of him, and the silence at night was unbearable.

One day, I was at Sophia’s place when my grandson looked at me with his big, tearful eyes.

“Grandma, I don’t want to lose you like I lost Grandpa,” he said.

A young boy | Source: Pexels

A young boy | Source: Pexels

What he said was just a combination of 11 words, but the impact it had on me was enormous. It made me realize that I couldn’t let sorrow consume me. I couldn’t spend the rest of my life feeling sad because my family still needed me.

That night, I made a promise to myself. I told myself I’d keep living and that was not just for me. It was for my family.

From that day on, I slowly started to rebuild.

A woman standing in her house | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in her house | Source: Midjourney

I sought help from a therapist, started attending dance classes, and even experimented with bright, colorful clothes. I styled my hair differently and embraced the parts of me I had once neglected.

“After all, this is what Richard wanted me to do,” I told myself. “He wanted to see me dress up and smile. He wanted his wife to be happy even if he wasn’t there.”

By the seventh year after Richard’s passing, I found myself smiling more often and feeling lighter. I wasn’t the same woman I had been during the first few dark months.

I was vibrant and confident, ready to embrace life again.

An older woman in a yellow dress | Source: Midjourney

An older woman in a yellow dress | Source: Midjourney

A year ago, I decided to take a trip I had always dreamed of. I wanted to go see the beautiful waterfalls and nature parks, and Sophia encouraged me to go ahead.

“You deserve to live all of your dreams, Mom,” she told me.

That trip was where I met Thomas.

I’ll never forget the first time we spoke. It was a crisp morning at a small park near one of the waterfalls.

A waterfall | Source: Pexels

A waterfall | Source: Pexels

I was sipping coffee, gazing at the water cascading down the rocks, when Thomas approached me with a warm smile.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” he said, gesturing toward the falls.

We began talking, and before I knew it, hours had passed.

He told me about his late wife, how they had shared a life full of love but how her passing had left a void he didn’t think anyone could fill. I told him about Richard, and how, for years, I couldn’t imagine even smiling again.

A woman standing near a waterfall | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing near a waterfall | Source: Midjourney

It felt like the world had paused for us at that moment.

We shared our grief and our hopes. Both Thomas and I dreamt of companionship, laughter, and love that didn’t need to replace what we’d lost but could stand alongside it.

Over the next few months, Thomas and I grew closer.

I found him to be very patient, kind, and thoughtful. He lived a few hours away from my house, but he never asked me to drive all the way there.

A man standing outside his house | Source: Midjourney

A man standing outside his house | Source: Midjourney

Instead, he visited me whenever he could and the best part about him was that he never rushed things. He understood my hesitations, my guilt, and the little pangs of doubt that occasionally surfaced.

But with every conversation, every walk in the park, and every shared meal, I felt my heart opening again.

A year later, Thomas proposed during a picnic at that same waterfall. I was stunned but overjoyed.

An older woman smiling | Source: Midjourney

An older woman smiling | Source: Midjourney

“Are you sure?” I asked him as tears blurred my vision. “You’re ready for this?”

He laughed softly and held my hands.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything,” he said. “We deserve this, Ellie. We deserve happiness.”

As our wedding day approached, I felt like I was twenty again. I wore a beautiful dress that Thomas had selected himself.

The church was filled with golden afternoon light, and my heart was full as I walked down the aisle toward Thomas.

A bride's dress in a church aisle | Source: Pexels

A bride’s dress in a church aisle | Source: Pexels

My children sat in the front row, smiling as they saw me in the white dress. At that point, I felt whole.

But as I stood at the altar, hand in hand with Thomas, the moment was interrupted.

Just as the priest asked, “If anyone objects to this union, speak now or forever hold your peace,” a voice broke the silence.

“I OBJECT.”

I turned to see who it was, and that’s when my gaze landed on David, Richard’s elder brother. His face had this fierce look of disapproval.

A man standing in a church | Source: Midjourney

A man standing in a church | Source: Midjourney

“I object!” he repeated, stepping forward with a pointed glare.

Murmurs rippled through the room as David walked toward the altar. Meanwhile, my heart pounded against my chest because I had no idea what was happening.

Why would David object to my wedding? What was going on?

He didn’t leave much room for guessing.

An older woman standing in a church | Source: Midjourney

An older woman standing in a church | Source: Midjourney

“Look at you, Ellie!” he shouted, his voice filled with disdain. “Dressed in white, standing here as if Richard never existed. While Richard—my brother—lies in the cold ground, you’re here celebrating like none of it ever mattered. How dare you?”

His words made me so embarrassed that I could feel the heat in my cheeks. I also felt the sting of tears in my eyes, but I didn’t let them fall.

Instead, I took a deep breath, preparing myself to answer his question.

“Do you think I’ve forgotten, David?” I asked, looking straight into his eyes. “Do you think a single day has passed where I haven’t thought about Richard?”

A woman talking to her late husband's brother | Source: Midjourney

A woman talking to her late husband’s brother | Source: Midjourney

I looked at Thomas, who gave me a calm nod, signaling me to go ahead. Then, I turned back to David.

“Richard wasn’t just my husband. He was my best friend, the father of my children, and the love of my life. But he’s gone, and I am still here. Am I not allowed to live?”

David scoffed, but before he could reply, my daughter Sophia stood up.

“Enough, Uncle David!” she said. “Before you accuse Mom of sinning because she wanted to live her life, I want you to see something. Not just you… I want you all to see this.”

A woman at her mother's wedding | Source: Midjourney

A woman at her mother’s wedding | Source: Midjourney

Then, she walked to the front of the church with a small projector in her hands. That’s when I understood what she was doing. She was about to show a video of Richard.

It was supposed to be a surprise for the reception, something my children and I had planned to honor Richard’s memory. But now, it was time.

The room grew silent as the projector flickered to life. Moments later, Richard’s voice filled the air, warm and steady, just as I remembered.

An upset woman standing in a church | Source: Midjourney

An upset woman standing in a church | Source: Midjourney

“Ellie, if you’re watching this, it means I’m no longer here,” his voice said. “But I need you to promise me one thing. Don’t let grief hold you back. Love again, laugh again, and dance in that silly way you do. If someone else brings you happiness, hold onto them with all your strength.”

Richard had made this video for me during his last days. He’d made more videos for our kids too, and they wanted to play all of them at the reception. They believed playing the videos would make us all feel Richard was there with us, supporting us.

But my dearest Sophia decided to play this one to stand up for me.

A woman looking at her mother | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking at her mother | Source: Midjourney

The guests were quiet, and I could even see some of my friends crying. But David? He wasn’t done yet.

He turned to Thomas with a stern expression on his face.

“And you,” David spat. “You think I don’t see through you? Marrying a woman in her 60s so you can rob her children of their inheritance? What kind of man are you?”

An angry older man standing in a church | Source: Midjourney

An angry older man standing in a church | Source: Midjourney

Thomas stood tall, his voice calm but commanding. “David, I don’t need Ellie’s money. We’ve signed a marriage agreement. In the event of her death, I inherit nothing. I’m here because I love her, not because of what she has.”

David opened his mouth to speak again, but Thomas raised his voice.

“Enough!” he said. “Just mind your own business and let other people be happy. There’s nothing more left to say.”

An older man standing in a church | Source: Midjourney

An older man standing in a church | Source: Midjourney

David wanted to argue, but he was escorted out of the church with the help of my sons.

The ceremony continued after he left, and as Thomas and I exchanged vows, the warmth and love in the room were undeniable.

And that is how I remarried at 60 and started a new chapter of my life.

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