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?
5 Stories of People Who Became Homeless During Hard Times
It doesn’t take a lot to go from having a roof over your head to being out on the streets. All it might take is one bad choice or simply a cruel twist of fate.
1. Amber: I Had to Starve Myself for a Whole Week to Buy a Cellphone
My name’s Amber. Until recently, I was living what I thought was the dream life with my husband Louis and our son Allen. We seemed so happy. Then, suddenly, everything changed.
“We rushed into things, Amber. I can’t do this anymore!” Louis announced one evening. My heart just sank.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“Louis, you’re kidding, right? You can’t just leave us like that! What about Allen? He’s only two!” I pleaded.
“That’s the problem, Amber!” he retorted. “I’m tired of all the responsibilities. I need time for myself. I’ve found someone who gets what I’m going through!”
That night, as he walked out, I just fell apart. Once Louis was gone, reality hit me hard. I struggled to find a job while taking care of Allen alone.
Two weeks later, our landlady evicted us as I couldn’t pay the rent, and Social Services took Allen.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
That night, I was homeless and heartbroken. My baby, my child, was taken away from me.
I sold everything I had, including my phone, and that kept me going for a while. Then, the money ran out.
One evening, out in the cold, I remembered my dad’s warnings about Louis. “He’s not right for you,” Dad had said. I wish I’d listened. Desperate to reconnect with him, I decided to buy a phone to call him.
I knew that if I borrowed a phone to call him, maybe he wouldn’t pick up the first time or even the second. But I’d have to keep trying….
I starved myself for a week to save enough to buy a second-hand phone. My tears didn’t stop when I dialed Dad’s number.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“Hello?” he asked.
“It’s… Amber, Dad,” I sobbed into the phone.
“Amber, sweetheart! Is that you? Oh God! How are things going?”
“I need your help, dad!”
“Is-Is everything okay?”
“Just come as soon as possible, Dad!” I said.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
He arrived quickly. In a hotel room, I poured out my heart about the betrayal and my days on the streets. Dad comforted me.
The next day, Dad and I went to the orphanage to start the paperwork to bring Allen home. Once everything was finalized, Dad took Allen and me to New York.
He also hired a private detective to find out where Louis was. It turned out Louis had been cheating on me with his boss’s daughter.
When his boss found out the truth — that Louis was married and had abandoned his family — he fired him. Louis ended up living on the streets. It felt like justice was done.
Back home, with my dad and Allen, I felt stronger. Life had knocked me down but taught me resilience. And with Dad’s support, I knew we could face anything ahead.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Coming up next is Brandon’s story, a homeless man and father of 3 living in a tent. One day, he decided to help a stranger, ignoring his own needs, and his life was never the same again.
2. Brandon: I Gave My Last $2 to a Stranger at a Gas Station, the Next Day I Inherited His Company
Four months on the streets with my three kids taught me a lot about life’s harshness and the small acts of kindness that can keep hope alive.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
We lived in a tent near a gas station, a makeshift home barely shielding us from the cold. It was tough, but we managed to find moments of joy, making the best of it.
One chilly morning, as I counted the few coins I had left, I decided to head into the gas station to buy a can of beans — our planned dinner for the evening.
Inside, I stumbled upon a scene that jolted my heart. An elderly man stood at the counter, confusion written all over his face.
“I’m sorry, young lady, what did you say about the water being funny?” he asked.
“I said you don’t have enough money, sir!” the cashier snapped.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
“Yes, it is a sunny day!” he replied.
Suddenly, some young man in line grabbed the elderly man, yelling, “You need more cash!”
Watching this, my heart sank. The elderly man just wanted a bottle of water to take his pills, but his request for an affordable bottle was met with hostility. “If you can’t afford to pay, you’ll have to go!” the cashier shouted.
I couldn’t stand idly by. Stepping forward, I emptied my cup of change onto the counter. “Have a heart, lady,” I said, deciding to pay for the man’s water.
The cashier counted the money with distaste. “That’ll cover it,” she muttered. I left the can of beans and handed the water to the elderly man.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“Here you go, sir,” I spoke clearly, making sure he could read my lips.
“Why did you help me when you needed the money?” he asked me as we left the store, noticing my tent with kids nearby.
“If there’s one thing I’ve learned from being homeless, it’s that the world works when people are kind to each other,” I explained.
“But what are your kids going to eat?” he questioned.
“There’s a chance I’ll find some scraps at the fast food joint across the street,” I assured him.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
The next morning, two jeeps parked near our tent, and a man in a fancy suit stepped out.
“Mr. Grives’ last wish was for me to deliver this to you,” he said. There was a letter offering me the inheritance of his business.
“Is it a joke?” I asked in shock.
The man handed me legal documents. With a mix of apprehension and hope, I signed the papers. This could be the break my children and I needed, a chance to escape the streets.
We were driven to a huge mansion. “Can we put up a tent under that tree with pink flowers?” my youngest, Derrick, asked innocently.
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“We’re going to live inside that house, silly! Right, Dad?” my daughter Kelly chimed in.
As I nodded, the reality of our new life began to sink in. Yet, the moment I opened the doors, something was wrong. The house was in disarray — someone had been there.
“We’ve examined the entire perimeter of the house and found no sign of forced entry, sir,” the officer reported after I called 911.
That evening, I got an anonymous call. In a robotic yet menacing tone, the voice told me I had 24 hours to decline all that Mr. Grives’ left me, leave the house, or else I would lose everything I love.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
The mansion came with Mr. Grives’ loyal staff, and one of them warned me that this could be the doing of Mr. Grives’ eldest son, Christopher. I resolved to go to the cops in the morning.
But in the morning, my kids were vanished! Although the clever perpetrator had managed to hide his face from most of the CCTVs in and around the house, there was one he didn’t know about.
Mr. Grives’ staff watched in horror as they recognized the leader of three thugs drugging my children. It was Christopher.
From there on, the cops put everyone on the task of tracking Christopher, and didn’t rest until later that afternoon, when Christopher were spotted on the border of the state with my kids in the back of an old van.
Christopher was arrested, and my children were safe. But their fear had set in deep, and I had a choice to make: to heal and embrace the gift that kind soul left us, or to walk away, rebuilding from the start.
“Daddy, are we going to leave our home again?” Kelly’s question broke my heart.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
I wrapped my arms around them. “We’re going to be okay. You want to know why?”
“IBecause the most valuable thing we have is right here, in my arms. So long as we stick together, we’ll always be rich in the most important way: love.”
While Brandon was blessed with children who understand the value of kindness and love, Mr. Greg wasn’t. Coming up next is his story.
3. Mr. Greg: My Teen Daughter Humiliated the Homeless, I Had to Teach Her a Lesson
I always thought I was doing right things for my daughter, Jane. I made sure she had everything she needed, but I missed teaching her something crucial — compassion for others. This hit me hard a few days ago when I lost my wallet.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: YouTube/DramatizeMe
After a fruitless search, I returned home to find Jane mocking a homeless man and his daughter at our doorstep. The shock set in when the man handed me my wallet, untouched. I was moved by that man’s gesture.
But Jane dismissively called them “trash,” and spoke to them with so much disgust…it broke my heart. I knew I had to fix this.
That evening, I invited the man, Mark, and his daughter for dinner. It was my chance to teach Jane about generosity.
“Dad, check the money! He probably stole it!” Jane said as I checked my wallet. Everything was there.
“All the money is here, sweetie. You’re mistaken,” I told her.
Seeing Mark’s and Lolita’s discomfort, I invited them to stay for dinner.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: YouTube/DramatizeMe
“Why don’t you guys join us?” I said. “It’s the least I can do to thank you.”
During dinner, Jane gave them paper plates instead of proper dishes.
“Why not use the nice dishes I got you for your birthday?” I suggested.
As we ate, I encouraged Mark to share his story, but Jane kept interrupting with rude comments. Eventually, I lost my patience.
“Shut your mouth, Jane!” I snapped. “You don’t know nothing. Misfortune could strike anyone.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: YouTube/DramatizeMe
I then revealed a painful truth to Jane. “It’s my fault. I worked too much, especially after your mother passed. We were the same once,” I confessed. “Do you remember our ‘camping trips’? We were actually homeless.”
Jane was stunned. “How did we get back on our feet?”
“A kind man gave me a job. That changed our lives,” I said with a sigh.
Then, I looked at Mark. “And now, it’s my turn to pay it forward,” I told him.
Mark nodded. “All I did was what a decent human should do,” he said.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: YouTube/DramatizeMe
“I had no idea, Dad. I’m sorry,” Jane said after a pause.
“It’s okay, honey. It’s not too late to learn from this,” I told her.
When it was time for Mark and Lolita to go, I suggested, “Why don’t you both stay the night? We have plenty of room, and it’s getting late.”
Mark hesitated, then gratefully accepted. “Thank you, Greg. This means a lot.”
But I knew I wasn’t done helping them. Offering them a night’s shelter would not alleviate their problems. So I made a decision.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: YouTube/DramatizeMe
A little kindness costs nothing, guys, and I was ready to make sure that little Lolita and her dad had a good life.
The next day, I offered Mark a job as a driver and arranged a temporary home for them. “And I’ll help you until you’re back on your feet,” I promised.
“Oh, Really?” Mark gasped. “Nobody is this kind nowadays! I won’t let you down, sir,” Mark told me in tears. “Thank you so much!”
The smile on Lolita’s face that day made me realize I’d done the right thing. As for Jane…my Janie changed. She became a better person, and I’m so glad for that.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: YouTube/DramatizeMe
If you enjoyed reading these, you might also enjoy these three heart-stopping stories where ‘dead’ people turned out to be alive, shocking their loved ones.
We’re curious: What do you think about these stories? Tell us in the comments!
Note: These pieces are inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only.
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