Hi there, this is Patty. I can declare with confidence that I have had a great and happy life after 90 wonderful years. Since my husband passed away a few years ago, Angie, my daughter, and I have mostly been spending our time together.
I was ecstatic as my ninetieth birthday approached. My daughter had assured me that she would come see me and spend the day with my grandchildren.
Imagining my grandchildren brings me constant joy. It reminds me of the times when my spouse and I raised Angie. My grandchildren remind me of those special occasions because they look so much like her.
They also have a father who looks like Angie’s ex-husband, John. I loved John so much that I was devastated by their split. The closest thing I’ve ever had to a son was John. He had a big heart and was friendly. He still sends me a Christmas card every year, even now. While I had hoped for John and Angie to be back together, life has other ideas.
When my birthday finally arrived, I was overjoyed. But as the day went on, my enthusiasm gave way to anxiety. It was getting close to lunchtime, and Angie had not responded to me. I called her multiple times, but she didn’t pick up.
When I tried to call Angie again, the call went straight to voicemail. Since she was driving, I thought she wouldn’t be able to respond. But as time went on, it became evident that, like many other days, I would be spending this birthday alone.
I was about to give up when someone rang the doorbell. If my knees weren’t so weak, I would have immediately jumped up in excitement. I was quite happy with my birthday present from Angie and the kids, since it had been a long time.
My heart fell when I saw a manly figure through the glass of the entrance. When I answered the door, I saw a happy John with gifts and flowers in his hands.
“Happy Birthday, Mom!” He gave a kind greeting.
“John? Oh, you didn’t have to,” I said, startled and happy at the same time.
“A small token to honor your amazing day,” John stated as he passed the presents.
Is that the chocolate of my dreams? You remembered, huh? My cheeks flushed with joy as I exclaimed.
How could I overlook that? It’s all you ever eat,” John laughed in response.
You’re overly charming. Could you come to supper with me? Asking him to come in, I did.
Oh no. Not that I would want to bother. You must have plans. John answered modestly, “I just wanted to drop off your presents and see your gorgeous self.
“That’s absurd! I would like the company, and I don’t have anything planned. I insisted, “Plus, I’m making apple pie.”
“Pineapple pie? John chuckled as he entered, “You ought to have led with that.”
John, like my late spouse, is an amazing chef. John did the majority of the cooking while we were together during the day. I was just happy to have the company. It was during supper that John finally inquired about Angie.
Will Angie and the children be joining us then? I would really like not think that I was ambushing her or doing anything similar. Although I really didn’t plan to remain, I’m pleased I did, John remarked.
“That’s absurd! We are family since you are my grandchildren’s father. And unfortunately, I don’t think Angie will come with us today,” I sadly said.
“Oh, that’s disappointing to hear. John said, “You shouldn’t spend your birthday by yourself.
“I’m not alone now, son, thanks to you,” I murmured, taking hold of his hand. “John, thank you.”
“No issue. Would you mind telling me why she didn’t come? or the children, at any rate? They enjoy having time with you, John continued.
“They were meant to arrive, but Angie won’t take my calls. I genuinely don’t know what transpired, but I have no doubt she will contact me again,” I remarked.
“I don’t know what’s going on with her, but she ought to at least drop the kids off. I’m going to call her,” John urged.
To my astonishment, Angie answered the phone when John called her. John later explained to me the reason behind my daughter’s birthday stand-up.
As it happens, the kids, Angie, and her new boyfriend are all on vacation. She kept it from everyone! John told me, clearly distressed.
“Trip? Did she not inform anyone, too? Why would she act in such way? I enquired.
“Patty, your guess is as good as mine. How can she get away with taking my kids and without saying anything? John replied, looking just as confused.
Oh no. This is really disheartening. Furthermore, who is this man? I was even more perplexed as I answered, “I had no idea Angie had a boyfriend.
She had made a casual reference, but an entire vacation? It seems that they had been organizing it for approximately a month. I apologize, Patty, but I think your daughter went too far this time, John stated in a frustrated tone.
I unhappily answered, “Yes, this is disappointing.”
I was shocked to hear the news. Angie could have at least informed me that she wouldn’t be available. I spoke with Angie later. The damage was done, but she said she would see the kids as soon as possible. I was truly saddened, but I will always adore my daughter.
John’s presence thankfully lessened the blow. But Angie’s actions caused a serious wound. I don’t know how to trust her at this point. How should I respond in this circumstance?
My Boyfriend Ended Our Relationship and Gave Me an Invoice for All He ‘Spent on Me’
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.
We’ve all heard of crazy boyfriend or ex-boyfriend stories—I mean, when I was in college, it was a common sleepover story.
I’ve heard of the boyfriend who wanted to taste everything his girlfriend ate—before she did. And an ex-boyfriend who demanded that his ex-girlfriend help him study for finals because it was her fault that he wasn’t able to concentrate.
But I didn’t expect my relationship to turn into one of those stories.
I had been dating Henry for two years. We had met in college at a party and after a night of drunken conversation over fries, we ended up dating.
Our relationship wasn’t perfect—in fact, over the course of it, we had broken up three times.
“Come on, Kyra,” Henry said. “We either get back together or we break up for good.”
It was the defining moment in our relationship because Henry was the one who wanted to call the shots. He wanted us to stay together, and I wanted us to call it a day.
Over the years, Henry and I had gotten into enough fights, motivating me to turn to therapy to help me cope with the stress of it.
“And yet,” my friend Brent said, “you still remain with him.”
It was just another ordinary Friday evening and Henry had come over to my place. We were going to eat pizza and watch series until we fell asleep.
A few hours into the evening, Henry had fallen asleep on the couch and I casually reached over to grab his phone to check the time.
But I was completely unprepared for everything that followed.
Just as I picked up Henry’s phone, his screen lit up with a text message from another girl.
Hey, babe! See you later or are we meeting tomorrow?
“Hey, who’s this?” I asked, nudging him awake and handing him the phone with a puzzled look.
Henry snatched the phone from my hand in a fury, his face clouding over.
“Kyra, why are you reading my messages?” he snapped, his tone defensive.
“I was just looking for the time,” I stammered. “My phone is on charge in the kitchen. I wasn’t snooping or anything.”
Henry stood up, took a swig of his now room-temperature beer, and paced around my living room.
“This is my private stuff, Kyra,” he accused. “You shouldn’t be looking at all.”
Before I could process what was happening, Henry began putting his shoes on, and then he made a final decision about our relationship.
“I think we’re done here. I can’t trust you anymore!”
And with that, he left my apartment.
Stunned, I watched him leave. We were over in the blink of an eye after two years.
I couldn’t understand if I felt relief or devastation. I would miss Henry, of course, but at the same time—I didn’t think that this was the worst thing.
Henry had been emotionally manipulating me for a long time, but I had felt a familiarity with him. And that had made it easier to stay with him.
It was the comfort of being with a familiar person, despite the heartache that came with them.
I could hear my mother’s words loud in my head.
“Kyra,” she would say, “You’re too smart to be playing a game like this. Let go of the dead weight. Henry has been nothing but dead weight since your first big fight.”
And she would be correct.
I decided to take a shower, I needed to lull my body into a sense of relaxation so that I could just let go and sleep.
And then it truly dawned on me—the reason for the breakup now was because I had caught Henry cheating on me. At first, I was too stunned. I was stunned by the fact that he had walked out on me.
But I finally managed to realize that he had actually been dating another woman. And had no idea how long it had been going on for.
The thought was too much for me to comprehend. I had so many questions running through my mind—how long had Henry been cheating on me? Who was the other person? What would have happened if I hadn’t found out?
The next few days were a complete blur—I felt a sense of relief knowing that I was untied to Henry. But at the same time, I felt hollow and a bit raw.
I found myself crying—not for Henry, but for myself. And through it all, I couldn’t understand why I was so upset.
While making a cup of tea, an email pinged on my laptop, signaling me to my desk.
It was from Henry.
Hoping for an apology, I opened it immediately—only to find a detailed bill listing every single expense that Henry claimed to have incurred on my behalf over the duration of our relationship.
Kyra, please make the payment soon. I need to move on, and you need to make things right with me. I cannot believe I wasted so much time and money on you.
I saw red—a hazy fury took over my sight. My head pounded, and my heart was ready to burst with the flood of feelings that were unleashed by Henry’s email.
“This is insane!” I screamed at the screen.
I shut off my laptop and made myself some soup. Henry and his delusional state of mind could wait. I wasn’t going to pay anything back. I was done with him.
As I cut up some garlic bread, I had an idea.
My friend, Brent, who hated Henry—was a lawyer and he loved a challenge.
“Hey, it’s me,” I said, calling him while I waited for the soup to get ready. “I’ve got a bit of a situation with Henry, and I think I need to hit back with something clever.”
Brent was intrigued. He chuckled and asked me to explain.
“Tell me everything, Kyra,” he said.
The next day, I met Brent at a coffee shop, where we planned on thinking up the next step where I could get back at Henry.
Brent ordered us coffee and pastries, while I pulled up the email from Henry.
As we laid out his claims against my emotional tolls—the late-night anxiety, the therapy costs—he burst out laughing.
“This is actually genius. Let’s draft up a counter-invoice.”
Our response was meticulously calculated, and I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of satisfaction sending it back to him.
This inspired me to start a blog about my journey of recovery and empowerment. To my surprise, the blog resonated with many, and soon, a publisher reached out with an interest in turning my experiences into a book.
On the other hand, Henry’s pursuit for repayment dwindled, especially once he realized the potential public fallout and legal ramifications.
“I cannot believe that you did that, Kyra,” Henry said. “People are messaging me constantly now. Why would you embarrass me like that? Why would you post the invoice I sent you? You owe me!”
I sat in front of the TV and let Henry vent on speaker.
I had absolutely no intention of explaining myself. My blog did expose him—and sure, I did post the invoice. But it was my way of healing through the entire ordeal.
But as always, Henry had to make it about himself. He commented on some of the blog posts, stating that I was yet to pay him for everything.
In reply, other readers let him have it—calling him out on his selfishness.
When Brent came over for dinner, he sat down and chuckled.
“Looks like Henry got the message,” Brent said. “He has dropped all demands. It seems like he just didn’t want to risk any further exposure.”
In the end, not only did I manage to counter his pettiness with strength, but I also carved out a new path for myself.
This wasn’t just about a breakup recovery—it was a rebirth.
What would you have done?
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