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?
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A Surprise Visit to My Long Distance Boyfriend Turned into a Disaster— Story of the Day
After my husband of eighteen years left me, I struggled to find love again at forty-one. Desperate, I joined a dating site and met a charming man named Juan. I took a leap of faith and traveled to Mexico to surprise him, but it turned out to be the worst decision.
My name is Lily, and I am 41 years old. Recently, my husband left me after 18 years of marriage, and I had no idea how to proceed. I married early in my life, so I didn’t have much experience meeting new people.
I couldn’t make new friends, and finding love in your forties is hard. So, I shut myself off and rarely left the house.
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In desperation, I registered on a dating site and started chatting with a handsome man from Mexico named Juan. He was so confident and gallant I couldn’t believe it was real. Very soon, our online flirtation was turning into something more.
Things developed quickly, and he began inviting me to visit him in Mexico. At first, I hesitated. What if he wasn’t who he seemed to be? What if I was just setting myself up for more heartbreak?
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But the thought of spending my days in the lonely routine I had fallen into pushed me to take a chance. I finally decided to surprise him by arriving unannounced.
I gathered my things for a few weeks’ trip, bought plane tickets, and was ready to go. I was really nervous. I wasn’t sure he would be the same as he was online, but I needed this. It felt like my last chance to be happy.
As I boarded the plane, my heart raced with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. The flight seemed to take forever, and I could only think about Juan.
Would he be as charming in person? Would he be happy to see me? I tried to calm my racing thoughts, reminding myself that this was a step toward a new beginning.
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It was difficult for me to reach Juan because it turned out he lived in a small town far from the airport. The journey was long and tiring. After landing, I had to find a taxi to take me to his town.
“Where!? Where!?” The taxi driver kept screaming at me because he couldn’t understand what I was saying. I could feel my frustration rising, so I quickly pulled out my phone and showed him the address.
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“See? Right here, I need you to take me to this town. How much?”
“Good, good, let’s go!” he answered, finally understanding.
Traveling had always been a challenge for me. I always seemed to find the worst ways to communicate with people, and my luck was notoriously bad. But this time, I felt like everything was going to turn out well, which gave me the courage to keep going.
The drive felt endless, winding through narrow, unfamiliar roads. I watched the scenery change from the bustling city to quieter, rural landscapes.
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The further we drove, the more anxious I became. I couldn’t help but wonder if I was making a huge mistake. But I pushed those thoughts aside, reminding myself that I was here to take a chance on happiness.
Finally, the taxi pulled up to a small apartment building. I paid the driver and stepped out, feeling a mixture of excitement and nerves. As I approached the building, I saw Juan just entering his apartment.
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“Juan! Surprise!” I called out, running towards him. I couldn’t wait to see his reaction.
He looked very surprised, and for a moment, I thought he was upset to see me. But then he suddenly smiled, and my heart calmed down.
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“Oh, it’s you! I wasn’t expecting you! Why didn’t you text me about your visit?”
“I’m sorry, I thought you would be happy to see me, Juan. You look so much better in person!” I said, trying to keep the mood light.
“Yeah! You too… Lucy…” he said, hesitating slightly.
“Lily…” I corrected him, feeling a pang of disappointment. He didn’t even remember my name. Maybe that was the first red flag I should have noticed.
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“Lily! Yeah, that’s what I meant. I’m sorry, sometimes American names are a bit confusing to me.”
Maybe he was right, I thought. I shouldn’t be so negative. He was so handsome, and his accent made me want to listen to him more and more.
He invited me into his apartment, and we sat down to talk. The conversation flowed easily; before I knew it, we laughed and shared stories as if we had known each other for years.
As the evening went on, we opened a bottle of wine. I felt my nerves melting away with each sip. Juan was charming and attentive, and I enjoyed his company more than I had expected.
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“So, what made you decide to come all the way here?” Juan asked, his eyes twinkling with curiosity.
“I just needed a change,” I admitted. “After my husband left, I felt so lost. Talking to you made me feel hopeful again.”
“I’m glad you came,” he said, his smile warm and reassuring. “It’s nice to meet you in person finally.”
We continued talking late into the night, the wine loosening our tongues and deepening our connection. Eventually, exhaustion caught up with me, and I could barely keep my eyes open.
“I think I need to get some sleep,” I said, stifling a yawn.
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“Of course, you must be tired from your trip,” Juan said, guiding me to a spare room. “Sleep well, Lily.”
“Goodnight, Juan,” I said, smiling as I drifted off, feeling content and hopeful for the first time in a long while.
But the next morning would bring a harsh reality I wasn’t prepared for. I woke up on the street, disoriented and confused. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a soft light over the unfamiliar surroundings.
My head throbbed, and I quickly realized that my phone and money were gone. I was left in my dirty clothes, feeling completely helpless.
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Panic set in as I looked around. People were starting their day, but no one seemed to notice me. I tried to speak to passersby, but my voice came out shaky and desperate.
“Please help! Anybody!? Call the police!” I shouted, hoping someone would understand.
But nobody did. They all glanced at me briefly before hurrying on their way, looking at me like I was homeless or worse.
The language barrier was like a wall between me and any potential help. I felt a wave of hopelessness wash over me, and tears began to well up in my eyes.
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Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, a tall man approached me. He had a kind face and wore an apron, suggesting he worked at a nearby restaurant. He spoke to me in Spanish, and his words were rapid and hard to follow. I shook my head, trying to convey that I didn’t understand.
He seemed to realize the problem and switched to broken English. “You… need help?” he asked, his voice gentle.
“Yes, please,” I replied, my voice trembling. “I don’t have my phone or money. I don’t know what to do.”
He nodded, his expression sympathetic. “Come… with me,” he said, gesturing for me to follow him. “I… Miguel.”
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“Lily,” I said, trying to manage a weak smile. I followed Miguel to a small, cozy restaurant just down the street. The aroma of freshly baked bread and coffee filled the air, momentarily distracting me from my fear.
Miguel led me to a back room, where he handed me some clothes – a simple dress and a pair of shoes. “You… change,” he said, pointing to a small restroom.
I nodded gratefully. “Thank you, Miguel.”
I changed into clean clothes inside the restroom, feeling a little more human. I splashed some water on my face and looked at my reflection in the mirror. Despite the situation, I felt a flicker of hope. Miguel’s kindness was like a lifeline.
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When I came out, Miguel had prepared a plate of food for me. Eggs, toast, and a cup of hot coffee. He pointed to the chair, indicating I should sit and eat. “Eat… you need strength,” he said.
I sat down and started to eat, the food filling the emptiness in my stomach. “Thank you,” I said again, my eyes welling up with gratitude.
Miguel smiled and nodded. “You… use phone after.”
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As I finished eating, I couldn’t help but reflect on the events that had brought me here. Juan had seemed so perfect, but now it was clear he wasn’t who he pretended to be.
The realization was painful, but Miguel’s unexpected kindness reminded me that there were still good people in the world.
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When I looked out into the hall to see how Miguel worked, I was stunned to see Juan in the distance. He was with a new woman, laughing and chatting as if nothing had happened.
My heart pounded in my chest, and anger surged through me. How could he just move on so easily after what he had done to me?
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I rushed back to Miguel, trying to explain what had happened. “Miguel, that man, Juan! He’s the one who robbed me! We need to call the police!” I said, my words tumbling out in a frantic rush.
Miguel looked confused, not fully understanding my English. I took a deep breath and tried again, speaking slowly and gesturing towards Juan.
“He stole my money and phone.”
Miguel’s face showed he still didn’t quite understand, but he nodded and looked concerned. I realized I needed to be clearer.
I grabbed a napkin and quickly drew a crude picture of a phone and a dollar sign, then crossed them out. “Juan took these from me,” I said, pointing to the drawing, then to Juan.
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Miguel’s face showed he still didn’t quite understand, but he nodded and looked concerned. I realized I needed to be clearer.
I grabbed a napkin and quickly drew a crude picture of a phone and a dollar sign, then crossed them out. “Juan took these from me,” I said, pointing to the drawing, then to Juan.
Miguel’s eyes widened in realization. He looked at Juan, then back at me. “Police?” he asked, mimicking holding a phone.
“Yes, but wait,” I said, an idea forming in my mind. “Can I borrow a waitress’s uniform?”
Miguel looked puzzled but nodded. He quickly fetched a uniform and handed it to me. I rushed to the restroom to change, my heart racing with both fear and determination.
Once I was dressed, I took a deep breath and adjusted the uniform. I needed to get that phone back.
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I walked out into the hall, trying to blend in with the other staff. My eyes were locked on Juan and the new woman he was with. They were engrossed in their conversation, oblivious to my presence. I approached their table, my hands shaking slightly.
“Excuse me, sir,” I said, using the most professional tone I could muster. “You dropped this earlier.” I handed Juan a napkin, hoping he would be distracted enough not to recognize me right away.
Juan looked up, mildly surprised. As he took the napkin, I quickly reached for his phone lying on the table. I grabbed it and hurried back to Miguel, my heart pounding in my chest.
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Miguel looked confused as I thrust the phone into his hands. “Look at the messages,” I said, opening the chat between Juan and me.
“And there are dozens of other women, too.”
Miguel scrolled through the messages, his eyes widening in shock. He looked at me, then back at Juan, who was still laughing with the woman.
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Miguel’s expression hardened with understanding and anger. He nodded and pulled out his phone to call the police.
Minutes later, the police arrived. They spoke with Miguel, who gestured towards Juan. The officers approached Juan’s table, and I watched as they questioned him. Juan’s face went from confident to confused to panicked in a matter of seconds. The police escorted him out of the restaurant, and I felt a wave of relief wash over me.
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Miguel turned to me with a look of concern and kindness. “You… okay?” he asked.
I nodded, tears of relief and gratitude filling my eyes. “Thank you, Miguel. You believed me and helped me. I don’t know how to repay you.”
Miguel smiled gently. “Good people help each other. You find a new start now.”
I realized that in this crazy journey, I had found someone who truly cared. Miguel’s kindness and support gave me the strength to face a difficult situation and become stronger. As I stood there, I felt a sense of hope for the future. I wasn’t alone anymore, and that made all the difference.
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If you enjoyed this story, read this one: Sam is a nurse whose only dream is to become a doctor. During her night shift, she meets a lonely little girl. Sam is shocked to find out that the girl will never be able to finish her list of dreams because of her illness. She decides to complete the girl’s tasks to make her feel better.
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