Andrew and I had been dating for only 3 months, but he had become everything I thought I wanted in that short time! That was until he pulled a stunt that made me reconsider his role in my life.
Let me fill you in on how we came to be.
I was 29, and my boyfriend, who was two years older, met me under the strangest of circumstances. One day, he had an unfortunate accident—he tripped in his office, landing palm-first onto a pair of scissors sticking out of a cup on his desk!
As an intern, I was the one to patch him up. He grinned through the pain, cracking self-deprecating jokes, and by the time I finished stitching him up, he had already asked for my number!
I was in medical school and was the intern on duty at the hospital where he was treated. I had the difficult task of stitching him up while he winced in pain but he still managed to delight me by cracking self-deprecating jokes.
Against my better judgment, I allowed him to flirt, and we exchanged numbers. Eventually, one thing led to another, and we started having coffee dates after my grueling hospital shifts.
I thought he was a wonderful man. We spoke about everything under the sun, including our childhood dreams and future ambitions. I opened up about how I was drowning in debt, barely scraping by in medical school in my pursuit to become a doctor and save lives.
But Andrew? He already had made it. He worked at a major tech company, pulling in six figures, and lived like money would never be a problem! Ironically, his parents were both doctors. They had wanted him to follow in their footsteps, but he rebelled, choosing coding over scalpels.
They cut him off and disowned him for it. Weirdly, I think he saw me as proof that his decision had been right. In hindsight, maybe that’s why he latched onto me so quickly—I was the struggling doctor he had avoided becoming.
From the start of our relationship, I insisted on splitting everything when we went out.
It wasn’t that I had extra money to burn—it was that I refused to be seen as someone who was “dating him for his wealth.” He always seemed amused by it, laughing and saying, “You’re different from most girls.”
I should have paid more attention to the way he said that.
Then came Valentine’s Day.
A week before, he teased me, grinning over the rim of his coffee cup. “I have something special planned for Valentine’s Day.”
I hesitated. “Where are we going? You know I can’t afford anything fancy right now. Please don’t forget that I need to know the cost upfront, ’cause you know I’m living paycheck to paycheck, and extravagant dates aren’t in my budget.”
“Don’t worry about it, it’s a surprise,” he said, waving me off. “Just trust me.”
I should have known better.
That night, he showed up in an Uber Black, not his car.
I frowned. “Did something happen to your car?”
“Nah,” he said, smoothing his tie. “Wanted to go all out for tonight.”
That nervous feeling in my stomach intensified, but I pushed it down.
Then we pulled up to one of the most expensive restaurants in the city—the kind where the menus don’t have prices because if you need to ask, you can’t afford it!
I turned to him the second we stepped inside. “Andrew, I really—”
“Relax,” he said, guiding me toward our table. “I’ve got this.”
He looked in his element when he ordered everything—fine wine, lobster, oysters, and risotto with white truffles! I barely touched my food, only eating a little here and there. Something felt off, and I kept thinking about being judged as a gold digger.
Andrew was unusually giddy, his phone propped up on the table, recording bits and pieces of our date. He kept grinning at the camera, saying things like, “Special night with my girl,” and, “Man, she really knows how to eat,” even though I didn’t eat much.
I laughed nervously, trying to ignore the pit forming in my stomach. But I must admit, the little I did eat that night tasted more delicious than anything I had ever eaten in my life! The food was amazing, and our outing felt like something out of a movie!
Then the check came.
$3,180!
I felt the blood drain from my face. Before I could even process it, Andrew picked up his phone and flipped the camera toward me.
“So, babe,” he said, his grin widening. “We’re splitting this, right?”
For a second, I thought I had misheard him.
I gave a small, uneasy laugh. “You told me not to worry about money tonight. You said you’d take care of everything, remember?” I replied, looking shocked, confused, and embarrassed.
My worst nightmare was about to become a reality—I was going to be branded a gold digger!
“Yeah, but come on,” he snorted. “You ate, didn’t you?”
My heart started pounding. “Andrew, you know I don’t have this kind of money.”
“You don’t?” His voice was light and playful. “Well, I guess you should’ve thought about that before you went in on all this food.”
I felt eyes on me. The restaurant had gone quiet. People were watching. The waiter stood frozen, holding the bill.
Then Andrew turned the camera toward himself and did something I will never forget or forgive.
“Mom, Dad, you always said I should’ve been a doctor,” he said, chuckling as he turned the camera between us. “Well, here’s what life would’ve been like if I had—dating someone who can’t even afford her own dinner!”
I couldn’t move. I could barely breathe.
He turned off the camera, casually tossed his credit card onto the bill, and smirked at the stunned waiter.
Then something inside me finally snapped!
I stood up so fast that my chair nearly tipped over! The heat of humiliation burned through my skin, but more than that, I felt anger! Andrew was still grinning, still holding his phone, but when I grabbed my coat and turned away, his smirk faltered.
“Wait, babe, where are you going?!” he asked, looking confused.
I didn’t answer. I ran and pushed through the restaurant doors, barely registering the cold night air as I flagged down a taxi with shaking hands and tears in my eyes!
My phone buzzed in my lap the entire ride home. Andrew kept calling over and over again, and when he realized I wasn’t going to answer, the texts started. Just as I was about to read them, my driver piped up.
“Uh, ma’am, are you okay? Do you need anything?”
“Hey, yes, so sorry about this. I just need some peace and quiet. I’ll be fine, thank you,” I replied sniffling softly, hoping he’d get the hint and leave me alone.
The driver nodded through his rearview mirror and focused on the road. I took the opportunity to glance at my phone.
It was a joke. A prank. You’re overreacting. I was just proving a point to my parents. I didn’t mean it. Please don’t be mad. Answer me…
I couldn’t believe him! He really thought that explanation was good enough to wipe away the pain of how he’d just humiliated me. I decided to ignore him before blocking his number.
I spent that night staring at the ceiling, the weight of everything pressing down on me. I couldn’t get over the betrayal, the embarrassment, and the realization that I had never really known him at all.
But the worst part?
The next night, he showed up on my doorstep! He kept calling my name and knocking like a policeman who was certain the criminal he was looking for was hiding inside!
Since he wasn’t quitting or getting the message, I decided to confront him. I opened the door just enough to look him straight in the eyes and threatened, “If you come near me again, I’ll file a restraining order.”
That’s when his smirk finally disappeared, and he left.
I sat in my tiny apartment, staring at my phone, unable to stop thinking about what had happened. Wanting some sort of support, I reached out to my best friend, Kara, but her response left me more confused.
“Are you sure you want to dump him over this? Don’t you want to reconsider?” she asked me over the phone.
I was stunned by her question. “He humiliated me.”
She sighed. “Yeah, but he paid in the end, didn’t he? It was just a joke. He’s rich, Jess. Maybe he was trying to impress his parents or something.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “Wealth doesn’t make someone a good person.”
Kara replied, “No, but it makes life a lot easier.”
But inside, I wasn’t so sure.
What do you think, dear reader? Am I wrong?
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.
Source: thecelebritist.com