My Ex Demanded I Pay Him Back Every Penny He Spent on Me — I Made Him Wish He Never Asked

As if being cheated on wasn’t enough, my ex-boyfriend texted me out of the blue, making monetary demands! After I got over the shock, I devised a cunning plan that would be replicated down the line. I made him regret ever making the request!

A woman reacting in shock while looking at her phone | Source: Pexels

A woman reacting in shock while looking at her phone | Source: Pexels

So, here’s the deal. My ex, Dan Brown, and I had been together for five years. Things were great until they weren’t. When we broke up because of his cheating, I thought that was the end of it. Boy, was I wrong!

What made me think we were all done was that we had no contact for a while. I believed he’d moved on with the woman he cheated on me with, but that wasn’t the case. A month after our breakup, Dan suddenly reappeared last week, daring to text me with a ludicrous demand!

A serious-looking man texting | Source: Pexels

A serious-looking man texting | Source: Pexels

When you hear what it was, you’ll also agree that his request was the pettiest, leading it to be almost comical! His message was him asking me to pay him back for every penny he ever spent on me. Seriously!?

Dan was asking for money for all the gifts he’d bought me for special days like my birthdays, Christmas, and New Year’s! That man had LITERALLY calculated every penny he’d spent, leading to a large sum!

A confused-looking woman looking at her phone | Source: Pexels

A confused-looking woman looking at her phone | Source: Pexels

“You need to pay me back EACH and EVERY penny!” he demanded. He didn’t even bother greeting me before making demands! The nerve of this guy! At first, I was stunned! Who does that? But then, the more I thought about it, the more it made me laugh!

Instead of texting him and telling him how pathetic he was for making such a request, I chose to hold my tongue. I didn’t even brag to Dan about how the amount he wanted wasn’t more than what I had spent on HIM for those same days. After all, we had been together for long enough.

A woman giving a man a wrapped gift | Source: Pixabay

A woman giving a man a wrapped gift | Source: Pixabay

Initially, I asked him, “But throughout our relationship, you said I didn’t have to pay you back?” I was shocked when he replied, “It doesn’t matter. I need that money now, so hurry up.” I thought about ignoring him, but then a brilliantly mischievous plan started to form in my head.

I came up with a better plan to exact my revenge and decided to play along but with a twist! “Sure thing, Dan,” I texted back, “I’ll pay you back.” His response came within seconds, filled with self-righteous triumph:

“Good. I knew you’d come to your senses.”

A man texting | Source: Pexels

A man texting | Source: Pexels

Little did he know, I had something else in mind. I set up a direct debit to send him ONE penny a day. One single, solitary penny. I remember the exact moment I hit the final confirmation button on my bank’s app.

My best friend, Emily, was sitting across from me at our favorite café. She was watching my every move with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. “What are you doing?” she asked, leaning over the table. “I’m paying Dan back,” I said with a grin.

Two friends having beverages at a café | Source: Pixabay

Two friends having beverages at a café | Source: Pixabay

Emily’s eyebrows shot up. “How?”

“One penny a day.” Her eyes widened, and then she burst out laughing. “No way! That’s genius!” We both laughed until tears streamed down our faces! Our laughter attracted a few curious glances from other patrons. But I didn’t care.

The most exciting part about this whole thing was that I had added the reference “cheating [expletive].” It showed up with each payment made daily. This was the best plan I’d ever come up with!

Two friends laughing at a café | Source: Pexels

Two friends laughing at a café | Source: Pexels

A week later, Dan texted me again. “What the hell, Stacy? Why am I getting pennies from you?” I couldn’t help but laugh as I read his message. “I told you I’d pay you back,” I replied. “It’ll take a while, but you’ll get your money.”

He called me immediately, his voice boiling with anger. “This isn’t funny, Stacy! I want my money NOW!”

“Well, Dan,” I said calmly, “you’re getting it. One penny at a time.”

“Stop this nonsense right now!”

“Or what? You’ll take me to court? Go ahead.”

A woman smiling while talking on the phone | Source: Pexels

A woman smiling while talking on the phone | Source: Pexels

I figured from now on, he’d think about me daily for the next SEVEN years since he decided to mess with me! He hung up, and I felt a surge of satisfaction. Dan had always been controlling, always needing to have the upper hand. This was the first time I felt like I had the power, and it felt AMAZING!

Months went by, and the daily penny transfers continued. Emily and I would joke about it often, wondering how long it would take before my ex finally snapped. Every time I saw that single penny deducted from my account, it felt like a small victory!

A woman smiling while looking at her phone | Source: Pexels

A woman smiling while looking at her phone | Source: Pexels

One day, I got another message from Dan. But this time, it wasn’t filled with anger. “Please, Stacy. Just stop this. I get it. You win.” I thought about it for a while. He had been a jerk, but did I really want to keep this up forever?

I decided it was time to end the penny payments, but not without one final touch. I withdrew the remaining amount I owed him in pennies and nickels and placed them in a small box. It was a hefty little package. I decorated it with a nice bow and included a handwritten note:

“Here’s the rest of what I owe you. Have a nice life, Dan.”

Lots of coins on a table | Source: Pixabay

Lots of coins on a table | Source: Pixabay

I mailed it to his apartment. The thought of him opening the box, finding hundreds of pennies and nickels, and realizing he’d lost his battle filled me with immense satisfaction. A few days later, I got a message from Dan. It read, “You’re insane.”

I showed it to Emily, and we laughed until our stomachs hurt! “You know, I think he’s finally realized he messed with the wrong person,” she said, still chuckling.

Two friends laughing | Source: Pexels

Two friends laughing | Source: Pexels

In the end, this little revenge plan wasn’t just about getting back at Dan. It was about reclaiming my sense of control and humor after a relationship that had taken so much out of me. And it worked. I felt lighter, freer, and ready to move on!

Months passed, and my ex faded into a distant memory. Life was good. Emily and I graduated, and we both landed jobs in the city. One evening, while we were out celebrating a promotion, Emily raised her glass and said:

“To the best revenge plot ever executed.”

Two friends celebrating with a toast | Source: Pexels

Two friends celebrating with a toast | Source: Pexels

I raised mine too, happy to be honored. “To the best friend who helped me through it,” I replied, clinking my glass against hers. And just like that, Dan and his ridiculous demands were behind me. I learned that sometimes, the best way to handle pettiness is with a little bit of creativity and a whole lot of humor!

Years after my little revenge plot, I found myself telling the story to a new friend, Jenny. She had been going through a rough breakup. But she was sharp and had a knack for turning the tables in ANY situation.

Two friends talking while working | Source: Pexels

Two friends talking while working | Source: Pexels

After hearing my story, Jenny smiled and said, “You know, that gives me an idea.” I raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Yeah. My ex, Jake, just demanded I pay HIM back for a trip we took together. I think I can take a page out of your book.”

A few weeks later, I got a call from her. “Remember how I said I had an idea?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, I told Jake I’d pay him back, too. But I set up a monthly payment of ten cents! I even made it a direct debit from my account!”

Someone using their banking details for a transaction | Source: Pexels

Someone using their banking details for a transaction | Source: Pexels

I laughed, remembering my own scheme. “How’s he taking it?”

“He’s FURIOUS! Keeps texting me to stop, but I remind him I’m paying him back, just like he asked.”

“Sounds like you’ve got this under control,” I replied, laughing at her ex’s misery.

“Thanks to you,” Jenny said. “I don’t feel powerless anymore.”

Two women hugging | Source: Pexels

Two women hugging | Source: Pexels

We chatted for a while longer, sharing stories and laughing about our past relationships. Jenny’s plan wasn’t just about revenge; it was about regaining power like I had. As we ended the call, I felt a sense of pride.

Not only had I managed to turn a ridiculous demand into a source of empowerment for myself, but I’d also inspired someone else to do the same. And that felt EVEN better than the revenge itself!

A happy woman smiling | Source: Pexels

A happy woman smiling | Source: Pexels

My Mom Put My Car Into Her Storage Unit to Punish Me – When I Saw What Else She Was Hiding There, I Went Pale

I craved adventure and freedom, but it came at the cost of my mother’s tears. One day, she put my car in her storage unit to punish me for coming home late. I did what any 17-year-old boy would do. I stole the keys to the unit to retrieve my car, but what I found hidden there shattered my heart like glass.

Do you love your mother? What a silly question to ask! I often dreaded coming home, you know. Mom’s questions fired at me the moment I walked in. “Where were you, Eddie? Why are you late? Bla bla bla!” I couldn’t understand why she was suffocating me with her constant concern. If only I’d known then what I know now, I would’ve given anything to hear her scold me again.

Portrait of a sad teenage boy | Source: Midjourney

Portrait of a sad teenage boy | Source: Midjourney

It was the autumn of 2021. I was 17, craving adventure and independence. Every day, it was the same routine. I’d barely get my key in the lock before my mom Charlotte’s voice would ring out from inside.

“Eddie? Is that you?”

I’d brace myself, knowing what was coming next. The moment I stepped through that door, she’d be there, arms crossed, eyes narrowed, brimming with tears.

God, not again! I’d roll my eyes.

A teary-eyed woman | Source: Midjourney

A teary-eyed woman | Source: Midjourney

“I was worried sick, and you don’t even care. How could you be so irresponsible?”

The questions came rapid-fire, each one making me feel smaller, more suffocated. I’d try to answer, but my words always seemed to fall short.

“I was just out with friends, Mom. We lost track of time.”

“Lost track of time? Eddie, you know better than that. This is unacceptable. You need to start taking me seriously.”

An annoyed teenage boy frowning | Source: Midjourney

An annoyed teenage boy frowning | Source: Midjourney

“I’m 17, Mom. You don’t need to worry about me every second.”

But she did worry. Every. Single. Second. A lot lately. Weird. And it was driving me crazy.

I didn’t understand then. How could I?

I was too caught up in my own world, too eager for freedom to see what was really happening. But looking back now, I wish I’d paid more attention. I wish I’d seen the fear behind her questions, the love behind her worry.

Because soon enough, I’d understand why she held on so tight. And when I did, it broke my heart.

A worried woman | Source: Midjourney

A worried woman | Source: Midjourney

The day everything changed started like any other. I came home late, way past curfew. Mom was waiting in the living room, the dim light casting shadows across her face.

“Eddie, we need to talk about this.”

I sighed, dropping my backpack by the door. “Mom, please. Not tonight. I’m tired.”

“You’re tired? I’ve been up for hours, wondering where you were and if you were safe. I haven’t eaten a thing because I was so worried about you.”

“I’m fine, okay?” I snapped. “Why do you always have to make such a big deal out of everything?”

A frustrated teenage boy frowning | Source: Midjourney

A frustrated teenage boy frowning | Source: Midjourney

She flinched, and for a moment, I saw something in her eyes. Hurt, maybe, or disappointment. But it was gone in an instant, replaced by anger.

“You’re grounded,” she sternly said. “And I’m taking your car keys.”

“What? Mom, you can’t do that!” I protested, but she had already turned away.

“We’ll talk about this in the morning.”

I stomped up to my room, slamming the door behind me. I didn’t know it then, but that would be the last time I’d slam a door in her face.

A boy gaping in shock | Source: Midjourney

A boy gaping in shock | Source: Midjourney

The next morning, my car was gone. Just gone. I ran back inside, panic rising in my throat.

“Mom! My car’s missing!”

She looked up from her coffee, her face calm. “I moved it, Eddie. You’ll get it back when you start showing some responsibility.”

I couldn’t believe it. “You can’t just take my car! Grandma gave it to me! You have no right—”

“I’m your mother. I’m doing what’s best for you.”

I stormed back to my room, furious and determined to get my car back. That’s when I hatched my plan. I knew she had a storage unit. It had to be there.

A boy storming upstairs | Source: Midjourney

A boy storming upstairs | Source: Midjourney

I waited until she left for a doctor’s appointment, then snuck into her room to find the keys. It felt wrong, but my anger overshadowed my guilt.

I had to get my freedom back. My car was my pride and love. It was my everything.

When I reached the storage unit, I felt a surge of triumph. I’d show her. I’d get my car and prove I could be responsible.

But when I opened that door, I FROZE.

A startled teenage boy | Source: Midjourney

A startled teenage boy | Source: Midjourney

Boxes. Dozens of them. Gift-wrapped. All neatly labeled with my name and future dates?

My stomach dropped as I read the labels: “18th birthday,” “Graduation,” “First job,” “Wedding,” and “Baby Shower?”

With shaking hands, I opened the box marked for my 18th birthday. Inside was a brown leather jacket, the exact one I’d been eyeing for months. How did she know?

I reached for another box, this one labeled “Graduation.” It was full of letters, all addressed to me, all in her handwriting.

A pile of gift-wrapped boxes | Source: Midjourney

A pile of gift-wrapped boxes | Source: Midjourney

The truth hit me hard as I sat there on the cold concrete floor, surrounded by pieces of a future Mom had carefully planned for me.

The doctor’s appointments. The exhaustion. The way she’d been holding on so tight.

Mom was sick. Really sick.

My eyes welled up as I pieced it all together. She wasn’t punishing me. She was PREPARING. Preparing for a time when she wouldn’t be here to see these milestones.

A teary-eyed teenage boy | Source: Midjourney

A teary-eyed teenage boy | Source: Midjourney

I don’t know how long I sat there, crying among the boxes of my future. All I know is that when I finally left that storage unit, I wasn’t the same person who had entered it.

I hurried home in a daze, my anger replaced by a crushing guilt. How could I have been so blind? So selfish?

I slipped quietly into the house, returning her keys as if I’d never touched them.

The anger that had consumed me for weeks was gone, replaced by guilt. I’d been so wrapped up in my own problems that I’d completely missed what was happening right in front of me.

A key hung on a holder | Source: Midjourney

A key hung on a holder | Source: Midjourney

Later that night, Mom was in the kitchen, stirring something on the stove. She looked up, surprise flickering across her face.

“Eddie? I thought you’d be out with friends.”

I crossed the room in three strides and wrapped my arms around her, hugging her tighter than I had in years.

“Eddie? What’s wrong?”

I pulled back, looking into her eyes. “Nothing’s wrong, Mom. I just… I love you. You know that, right? After Dad left us, you were my rock.”

A teary-eyed woman in the kitchen | Source: Midjourney

A teary-eyed woman in the kitchen | Source: Midjourney

She cupped my face in her hands, her eyes searching mine. “Awwww, of course, I know that, sweetie. I love you too. And I’ll always be your rock, okay?”

I helped her finish dinner that night, and we ate together at the table for the first time in months. We talked about everything and nothing, and I soaked up every word, every laugh, and every moment.

As I was clearing the dishes, I turned to her. “Hey, Mom? I’m sorry. For everything.”

She smiled a sad, beautiful smile, one that I’ll never forget. “Oh, Eddie. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

But I did. And I was determined to make it right. Without letting her know that I knew her secret.

A teary-eyed boy smiling | Source: Midjourney

A teary-eyed boy smiling | Source: Midjourney

The next few months were different.

I stopped going out late and stopped fighting her on every little thing. Instead, we spent our evenings watching old movies, looking through photo albums, cooking, and just being together.

One night, as we sat on the porch swing, watching the sunset, she turned to me.

“Eddie, there’s something I need to tell you.”

I knew what was coming, but it still felt like a punch to the gut when she said the words.

“I’m sick, honey. And it’s not getting better.”

A sad woman sitting on a swing | Source: Midjourney

A sad woman sitting on a swing | Source: Midjourney

I took her hand, squeezing it gently. I didn’t want to know what it was that was going to steal her away from me.

“I know, Mom. How long have you known?”

She sighed, looking out at the fading light. “A while now. I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t know how. I didn’t want to burden you.”

“Mom, You could never be a burden. Never.”

We sat there in silence, watching the stars come out one by one. And for the first time in a long time, I felt at peace.

The last few months with Mom were the best we’d ever had. We didn’t waste time on arguments or petty disagreements. Every moment was precious, and we both knew it.

Silhouette of a boy with his mother on the beach | Source: Midjourney

Silhouette of a boy with his mother on the beach | Source: Midjourney

She told me stories from her childhood, taught me how to cook her famous lasagna, and showed me old home videos I’d never seen before.

And through it all, she never complained, never showed fear. She was so strong, right until the end. And then, the day I dreaded came.

Mom slipped away in her sleep, a small smile on her face. And though I thought I was prepared, the loss hit me harder than I could have imagined.

A cemetery | Source: Midjourney

A cemetery | Source: Midjourney

Months passed.

On my 18th birthday, I opened the box she’d left for me for this day. I put on the brown leather jacket, feeling closer to her somehow. And I read the first of many letters she’d written, her words bringing both tears and comfort.

“My dearest Eddie,” it began. “If you’re reading this, it means I’m not there to celebrate this day with you. But know that I’m with you, always. I’m so proud of the man you’ve become.”

I read those words repeatedly, hearing her voice in every sentence.

A boy wearing a brown leather jacket | Source: Midjourney

A boy wearing a brown leather jacket | Source: Midjourney

It’s been two years now, but I still have those boxes.

Some days, I think about opening another one, but then I stop myself. It’s like I’m saving Mom for later, piece by piece because even though she’s gone, she’s still somehow with me.

I’ve learned that love doesn’t end with death. It lives on in memories, in the lessons we’ve learned, and in the person we’ve become because of that love.

Mom taught me that. She taught me so much, right up until the end. And maybe, when the time is right, I’ll open the next box, and she’ll teach me something new all over again.

A pile of gift boxes on a bed | Source: Midjourney

A pile of gift boxes on a bed | Source: Midjourney

But for now, I’m holding onto the memories we made in those last precious months. The laughter, the quiet moments, and the love that filled every second. Because in the end, that’s what matters most.

Love. Family. The time we had together.

And I’ll cherish every moment, just like she taught me to.

A thoughtful boy smiling | Source: Midjourney

A thoughtful boy smiling | Source: Midjourney

To those who’ve just finished reading my story, I have one request: go and hug your mother. Right now. There’s no force more powerful, more pure than a mother’s love. Cherish it while you can. Never take her for granted, and please, never hurt her with harsh words or thoughtless actions.

You see, God doesn’t walk down from the heavens. He’s already sent us angels in the form of our mothers. Hold onto yours tight, and never let go. Because one day, like me, you might find yourself wishing for just one more hug, one more scolding… and one more chance to say “I love you.”

Love you, Mom. Forever & Ever. 

A woman's tomb | Source: Midjourney

A woman’s tomb | Source: Midjourney

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.


*