Natalie discovered herself when her boyfriend consistently “forgot” his money when they ate out with his kids. Natalie kept paying the tab when her boyfriend “forgot” his money when they went out to dinner with his kids until she snapped. With her patience and money running low, she took a stand and disclosed who he was.
When I started dating Evan, I thought he was perfect. He was funny, engaging, and most importantly a loving father to Liam and Emma at 39. As a 32-year-old without children, I admired his obvious ease.
Or so I thought.
I saw fractures in his flawless image many months into our relationship.
It began softly.
Every week, we took his kids to supper. Evan always picked eateries, sometimes casual, sometimes posh.
“Come on, Natalie,” he grinned. “Let’s have fun!”
Kids squealed over sweets and tried new foods. Initially, I didn’t care. I thought he wanted to make memories with them and felt blessed to join.
Bills began piling up.
The first time Evan “forgot” his wallet, I didn’t hesitate.
He shouted, “Oh no, Nat!” feeling his pockets with a sorry look. “I must have left it home. Could you cover this? Of sure, I’ll repay you.”
Second time, I raised an eyebrow. By the third, my stomach knotted. On the sixth, I understood it wasn’t an accident.
But what should I do?
The kids were present, but not to blame. They had no clue I was barely surviving on two part-time jobs.
I stayed quiet for months.
Evan’s humiliation in front of Liam and Emma was unacceptable. They were innocent throughout. And they loved him. I wanted to preserve their paternal image.
“But you have to speak up, Nat,” my sister Laurel said. «This is just getting worse»
“But I feel guilty!” I argued, removing a baked pie.
“I understand. Unless you stop him, Evan will keep taking advantage. You left it too long. Natalie, please. Work for yourself.”
“How? Should I forget my card next time?
“If that’s what it takes!” she shouted. “May I have a piece of that pie? You know I love fresh-baked pecan pie.”
I kept telling myself it was fleeting and Evan would see how unjust it was to keep burdening me.
But he never did.
Or he ignored it.
He kept letting his kids order anything they wanted. Not basic kid’s meals. I mean fish platters, milkshakes with donuts, and desserts that cost more than my monthly groceries.
“They deserve to enjoy themselves, Nat,” Evan said with a grin. “Motherhood is strict. They deserve liberty.”
Nodding, I pretended to agree, my pulse racing as I gave the server my card.
What about his excuses? Always identical.
Forgot my wallet.
Left it in other jeans.
I didn’t imagine we’d need it tonight—just a drive.
He dismissed it each time.
He assured me, “You’ve got this, Nat.” “I’ll repay. Or I’ll cover the next.”
After nine months together, I had paid for more dinners than I could count, and my wrath was perilously near to boiling.
Friday night was the last straw. Just got paid from my second job, looking forward to a calm night at home.
I called Laurel to say, “I even bought some new nail colors, Sis,” as I headed home.
“Oooh! Anything I want?” With enthusiasm, she inquired.
“You mean, can you steal colors?” A chuckle.
“Exactly what I meant,” she laughed. “But what’s with Evan? If meals weren’t so expensive, you could go to the most expensive nail salon without batting an eye.”
A minute of silence. She was correct.
“I haven’t said anything to him yet,” I replied. But I’m tired. I’m losing interest in him. I’m working hard to avoid animosity.”
“Sounds like the resentment’s already taken root, Sis,” she said. “Do what you must. For yourself. Anyway, I have to run—a client just arrived.”
I entered my apartment thinking about making the two-ingredient flatbread with my leftover curry before painting my nails.
Evan and the kids entered my door. The youngsters’ excitement made me grin immediately.
“I don’t want to stay in tonight, babe,” Evan said. Want to go out. I believe kids need it too. They seemed sad when I took them up from their mom. Liam told me she was being tough when I inquired what was wrong.
“But, Evan,” I hesitated. I haven’t been paid.”
I loathed deceit. But it was a harmless falsehood. I thought it would finally motivate him.
“I’ll cover it this time,” he said.
I hesitated, but his gorgeous smile convinced me.
I’ll take the kids home to shower and get ready. I’ll pick you up, okay?
I nodded.
“Yeah, that sounds good,” I said. “I’ll prepare.”
Later, I texted Evan when he phoned to say he was leaving.
Keep your wallet this time!
His reply? Emoji laughter.
The kids were excited when we arrived at the pricier eatery. They were dressed up and excited, and I loved it. Evan always ordered appetizers, dinners, desserts, and beverages, resulting in a cost that made my stomach ache.
When the waiter cleaned our dishes, I leaned forward Evan.
“You cover this one, right?” I whispered. “I lack funds…”
His expression froze. He patted his pockets like clockwork, going from surprise to faux fear.
“Guess I left it in the other jeans I thought I was going to wear,” he laughed sheepishly.
My hands gripped the table edge as I watched him. The youngsters were laughing over their milkshakes, unconscious of the storm.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I responded dryly.
“Come on,” he begged, grinning again. Nat, you can cover this. Just one supper. I’ll repay.”
Too often had I heard that phrase. This time? I finished.
Evan didn’t understand I was ready.
I got up, grabbed my handbag, and faced him.
“No, Evan. Not paying for this.”
Completely bewildered, he blinked.
“You mean what?”
“I mean, I’m not paying for this dinner,” I told the waiter. “You anticipated this. You keep pulling this trick, and I won’t be your backup wallet anymore.”
Evan went crimson when the youngsters glanced up, puzzled and alarmed.
Hissed, “What are you doing?”
I smiled cordially at the waiter.
Please check separately. For my order alone. The rest is his.”
The waiter nodded, understanding the awkwardness. Evan panicked, feeling his pockets again in hopes of finding his wallet.
He growled, “You can’t just leave us here like this!”
“Watch me,” I said.
Softening my voice, I addressed Liam and Emma.
I’m sorry, folks. But this is unfair to me.”
I put on my coat and left the restaurant, my heart racing but my head held high.
Evan phoned me furious later that night.
He said, “Natalie, you embarrassed me in front of my kids!”
“No, Evan,” I said gently, closing the nail polish bottle on my coffee table. “You shamed yourself. I’m tired of paying for your meals for months.”
He attacked me, calling me selfish and accused me of starving his children.
Evan, they weren’t hungry. They ate plenty. I reminded you to bring your wallet. Stop manipulating me.”
“You don’t get it, Natalie! Not a parent! Single parent, I have the kids most of the time, and money is tight!”
“And so is mine!” I snapped. Evan, I work two jobs. Two. However, you let me pay for every meal without repaying me. Not a mistake, a pattern.”
I briefly believed he understood when he became quiet.
He mumbled something that shook me to the core.
Maybe you should rethink how you treat my kids. They deserve better.”
I laughed, fatigued and resentful.
“No, Evan. Their father should not influence others to obtain what he wants.”
I hung up, blocked his phone, and haven’t looked back.
Evan’s breakup wasn’t financial. It was respect. I deserve a relationship, not a pocketbook.
Someone who fixes problems, not just complains.
What about Evan?
Since I won’t bail him out again, I hope he’s finally using that wallet.
