When Natalie’s boyfriend conveniently ‘forgets’ his wallet every time they dine out with his kids, a woman is left footing the bill over and over, until she finally has enough. With her patience and bank account drained, she decides to take a stand, uncovering his true colors in the process.
When I first started dating Evan, I thought he was perfect. At 39, he was charming, funny, and such a devoted father to his two kids, Liam and Emma.
As a 32-year-old with no kids of my own, I admired how he juggled everything with grace.
Or so I thought.
It wasn’t until months later that I noticed the cracks in his seemingly perfect persona.
It started small.
Once a week, we’d take his kids out for dinner. Evan always picked the restaurants, sometimes casual diners, sometimes pricier spots.
“Come on, Natalie,” he would say. “Let’s live a little!”
The kids loved it, squealing over desserts and new menu items.
At first, I didn’t mind it one bit. I figured that he wanted to make special memories with them, and I was happy to be part of it.
But then, the bills started piling up.
The first time Evan “forgot” his wallet, I didn’t think much of it.
“Oh no, Nat!” he said with an apologetic smile, patting his pockets. “I must’ve left it at home.
Can you get this one? I’ll pay you back, of course.”
The second time, I raised an eyebrow. The third time, I felt a twinge of unease.
By the fifth time, I knew it wasn’t an accident.
But what could I do?
The kids were there, and it wasn’t their fault that their dad kept conveniently forgetting his wallet. They didn’t know I was struggling to make ends meet, working two part-time jobs just to stay afloat.
For months, I bit my tongue.
I didn’t want to cause a scene in front of Liam and Emma. They were just innocent kids in this whole mess.
And they adored Evan. I didn’t want to shatter the image they had of him.
“But you’ve got to speak up, Nat,” my sister, Laurel, said. “This is just going to keep adding up.”
“But I feel bad!” I said, taking a pie out of the oven.
“Yes, I get that.
But you need to know that Evan is going to expect it. You’ve allowed it to go on for too long now. Please, Natalie.
For your own sake, I need you to sort this out.”
“How? Do you want me to forget my card the next time?”
“If that’s what it takes!” she exclaimed. “Now, can I have a slice of that pie?
You know I love pecan pie when it’s hot.”
I told myself it was temporary, that Evan would eventually realize how unfair it was to keep putting the burden on me.
But he never did.
Or, if he did, then he just ignored it.
Instead, Evan let his kids order freely. And I’m not talking about the kiddie meals. Oh no, I’m talking about seafood platters, fancy milkshakes with donuts hanging off them, and desserts that cost more than my groceries.
“They deserve to enjoy themselves, Nat,” Evan would say with a smile.
“Life with their mom is very strict. And… well. They deserve this.”
I would simply nod along, agreeing with him, hiding my anxiety as I handed over my card for the bill.
And do you know what?
Evan’s excuses never changed.
I forgot my wallet.
I left it in my other jeans.
I didn’t think we’d need it tonight.
I thought we were only going on a drive.
Each time, he acted like it was no big deal.
“You’ve got this, Nat,” he would say. “And I’ll pay you back. Or I’ll just cover the next one.”
By the time we’d been together for nine months, I’d paid for more meals than I could count, and resentment was bubbling over.
The final straw came on a Friday night.
I’d just gotten paid from my second job and was looking forward to treating myself to a quiet evening at home.
“I even bought new nail colors, Sis,” I told Laurel on the phone as I walked home.
“Oooh! Anything I’d like?” she asked joyfully.
“You mean, are there any colors that you could steal?” I laughed.
“That’s exactly what I mean,” Laurel laughed. “But, tell me.
What’s happening with the Evan thing? If you didn’t spend so much on dinners, you could go to the fanciest nail place and not even bat an eyelid.”
I was quiet for a moment. I agreed with my sister, of course.
“I didn’t say anything to him yet,” I said.
“But… I don’t know. I’m tired. And I’m getting… I’m losing feeling for him.
But I’m trying not to let the resentment grow.”
“The resentment seems pretty large already, Sis,” she said. “Do what you have to do. Please.
Do it for yourself. I’ve got to go, Nat, a client just walked in.”
I got into my apartment, thinking about the leftover curry I’d made the night before. And I contemplated the famous two-ingredient flatbread before doing my nails.
But that’s when Evan and the kids walked through the door.
The kid’s energy made me smile.
“I don’t want to stay in, babe,” Evan said. “I want to go out. And I think the kids need it, too.
When I went to pick them up from their mom’s, they were very quiet. And when I asked what happened, Liam just said that she’s being difficult.”
“But, Evan,” I said. “I haven’t gotten paid yet.”
I hated lying.
But it was a little white lie. And I hoped that Evan would get the hint.
“I’ll cover it this time,” he promised.
I hesitated, but when he reassured me with that easygoing grin of his, I caved.
“I’ll take the kids back to my place,” he said. “Just to shower and get ready.
And then I’ll come fetch you?”
I nodded.
“Yeah, that sounds perfect,” I agreed. “I’ll shower, too.”
Later, after Evan called to tell me that he was about to leave home, I texted him.
Don’t forget your wallet this time!
And what was his reply? A laughing emoji.
We arrived at the restaurant, a nicer place than usual, and the kids were thrilled.
They were both dressed up, and there was a joy to them that I loved. We ordered, with Evan ordering whichever appetizers, entrees, desserts, and drinks, racking up a bill so massive I could feel my stomach turning.
As the waiter cleared our plates, I leaned over to Evan.
“You’ve got this, right?” I whispered. “I don’t have the money…”
His face froze.
Then, like clockwork, he started patting his pockets, his expression shifting from confusion to mock horror.
“Guess I forgot it in the other pair of jeans I thought I was going to wear,” he said with a sheepish chuckle.
I stared at him, my hands gripping the edge of the table. The kids were busy giggling over their milkshakes, blissfully unaware of the tension rising between us.
“You’re joking,” I said flatly.
“Come on,” he said, flashing that familiar grin. “You can get this one, Nat.
It’s just one dinner. I’ll pay you back.”
I’d heard that line too many times. And this time?
I was done.
What Evan didn’t know was that I’d come prepared.
I stood up, grabbed my purse, and looked him dead in the eye.
“No, Evan. I won’t get this one.”
He blinked, confused.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I’m not paying for this dinner,” I said, loud enough for the waiter to overhear. “You knew this was coming.
You’ve done this every time, and I’m done being your backup wallet.”
Evan’s face turned red as the kids looked up, startled.
“What are you doing?” he hissed.
I smiled politely at the waiter.
“Separate checks, please. Just for what I ordered. The rest is on him.”
The waiter nodded, clearly sensing the awkwardness.
Evan started to panic, patting his pockets again as if his wallet would magically appear.
“You can’t just leave us here!” he said, his voice rising.
“Watch me,” I replied.
I turned to Liam and Emma, who were watching the scene unfold with wide eyes.
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