I always believed life had a strange way of testing us, pushing our limits, and revealing who truly stands by our side when the storm hits. I just never thought that test would come through my future mother-in-law.
That belief was put to the ultimate test several months ago when a tragic car accident left me with injuries so severe that the doctors were pessimistic about my full recovery.
A young woman in a wheelchair drinking coffee while staring out the window in thought. For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
They cautioned that even with extensive rehabilitation, I’d likely have a permanent limp, and for a time, I needed a wheelchair. Throughout this ordeal, my fiancé, Ethan, was an unwavering pillar of support. We even said to each other, “Nothing’s stopping our wedding, not even this.”
As our wedding approached, I found solace in the pages of my favorite books, seeking refuge from the harsh realities of physical therapy and doctor’s appointments. One evening, while I was lost in a novel, Ethan was in the lounge with his mother.
A young woman in a wheelchair reading. For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
I was thankful when his mother offered her help the previous night, which I thought she had come over to do. But oh, was I ever so wrong!
Their voices, usually clear and distinct, were now hushed to whispering tones. Curiosity piqued, I listened, unprepared for the chilling words that flowed from my future mother-in-law’s lips.
A woman talking to her son and daughter. For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“Son, you have to leave her otherwise…” She stopped mid-sentence before changing course, “Honey, you are so young and so handsome. Just imagine what a burden she will be for you!”
Frozen, my heart hammering in my chest as I waited for Ethan to defend our love, to speak up about how this wheelchair was only temporary. But silence followed. His silence was a gaping void that swallowed my hope whole.
A sad woman. For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Distraught, I wheeled myself to our bedroom, tears blurring my vision. I was hurt and confused, a storm that couldn’t find its calm. When Ethan entered, his face crumpled in worry at the sight of me crying.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice laced with genuine concern.
“You can leave me,” I managed between sobs. “I’d understand that.”
A woman crying into a pillow. For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Ethan’s confusion was palpable. “What? Why on earth should I leave you? You are the love of my life!”
“But why didn’t you say that to your mom? I heard everything!”
He rushed to my side, taking my hands in his. “Oh dear. I’m so sorry you heard that. But my reaction wasn’t at all what you thought. After hearing her words, a perfect plan came to my mind to teach my mom a lesson. I stayed silent because I needed her to think I might actually consider it. This was all part of my plan to show her how wrong she is about us, and about you.”
A man comforts his fiancée. For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Skeptical yet intrigued, I listened as Ethan unveiled his plan. “Let’s pretend we’re breaking up because of the injury. We’ll even stage a dramatic scene at our upcoming engagement party where I ‘decide’ I can’t handle the pressure. But here’s the twist—right after we pretend to break up, we’ll reveal the truth to everyone about how unsupportive and cruel my mom has been, exposing her in front of our friends and family.”
It was bold, risky, and fueled by the sting of betrayal. I was hurt enough to agree.
Couple hatching a plan. For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
The engagement party was a scene straight out of a drama. Under the twinkling lights and the watchful eyes of our friends and family, Ethan and I enacted our plan.
His performance was convincing, his feigned frustration bubbling over as he declared he couldn’t do this anymore. The room fell into a stunned silence, the air thick with shock and disbelief.
Then, the moment of truth arrived.
A visibly shocked reaction from one of the guests at the party. For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Standing (with some difficulty) I addressed the gathered crowd. “This was a test,” I began, my voice steady despite the pounding of my heart. “A test to show the true colors of someone who claimed to love me unconditionally.”
Ethan joined in, explaining our ruse and calling out his mother’s earlier words and lack of support. The impact was immediate.
My mother-in-law, caught in her own cruel game, was mortified. She stuttered apologies, her façade of politeness crumbling before everyone. The crowd’s reaction was mixed; some were shocked, others whispered among themselves, but the message was clear: no one would look at her the same way again.
A mortified woman staring out a window. For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
From that day on, she was much more cautious around us, her words measured, her actions careful. Ethan and I grew stronger, our bond fortified by the ordeal. We learned the hard truth about the challenges we faced, not just from life’s unpredictable twists but from those we least expected.
As I continued to heal, both physically and emotionally, I realized that this test, harsh as it was, taught us about the depth of our resilience and the unyielding strength of love.
A happy couple on the beach. For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
In the end, life’s trials did indeed reveal who stood by me — not just the man I loved, but the strength I harbored within myself. Wheels and all, I was ready to face whatever came our way, with Ethan truly by my side.
Those you love and choose to build a family with don’t always stand by you when it matters, and even that can be a lesson, as another woman found out when her future MIL turned her life upside down and used food to do it.
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.
My Boyfriend Demanded That I Give Him My Card to Pay Our Restaurant Bill
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?
If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one |
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.
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