I was rich, so I tested my broke girlfriend’s love by pretending…….
Skyla once left a note on my refrigerator reminding me that coffee wasn’t breakfast. It was all I had left of my broke girlfriend after she disappeared for five days, unaware that the serious illness I’d confessed to was a lie designed to test her loyalty. When she finally returned
and placed something before me, I covered my face and cried like a child.
The first time Skyla watched me throw away a coffee machine, she thought I’d lost my mind.
“It stopped working,” I explained.
“Did you try cleaning it?”
“I bought another one.”
She glanced at the replacement sitting on my counter.
“Archie, the old one probably just needed descaling.”
“I don’t even know what that means.”
“Clearly.”
She brought the discarded machine home.
Two days later, she sent me a picture showing it working perfectly.
FIXED. COST: $4.
I burst out laughing.
That was Skyla.
At twenty-four, she was finishing college while working evening shifts at a restaurant.
Her car made an awful sound whenever she turned left. Her laptop needed several minutes to start, and she bought secondhand textbooks while budgeting carefully for groceries after paying rent.
Meanwhile, I ran a successful business and came from a wealthy family where checking prices was practically unheard of.
We’d been together for nearly two years.
Whenever I offered to cover her tuition, Skyla declined.
“I need to know I can do this myself,” she’d say.
My parents interpreted things differently.
One Sunday, Mom questioned whether Skyla understood our family’s wealth.
“She’s met you, Mom,” I said. “She knows you’re comfortable.”
“That’s not what I asked, Archie.”
Dad expressed his concerns more openly.
“Be careful. Some people know how to wait until you’ve let your guard down.”
My friends shared similar suspicions.
One had recently endured a bitter breakup and insisted his former girlfriend had stayed because of his lifestyle.
“Your girlfriend’s broke, Archie. You’re telling me she doesn’t see an opportunity?”
Initially, I defended Skyla.
She’d never requested money.
Was that because she genuinely didn’t want it?
Or had she figured out that asking would make me suspicious?
Once those doubts appeared, I started questioning ordinary gestures.
When she prepared dinner at my apartment, I wondered whether she was trying to impress me.
When she remembered an important meeting, I questioned whether she was deliberately keeping me happy.
One evening, she arrived carrying her unreliable laptop. Its screen flickered whenever she moved it.
“Let me buy you a new one,” I said.
“No, thanks. I’ve got a repair appointment.”
“Skyla, I can afford it.”
“It’s okay, baby.”
“Then why won’t you let me?”
Please click the Continue Reading button below to keep reading.
Comments (0)