Billing My Gold-Digger Ex

Mom just wired me $50,000 for my birthday.

I had my eye on two limited-edition Chanel bags running about fifteen grand each. I showed the pictures to my boyfriend, Travis, to get his opinion.

Travis bounced on his heels, buzzing with excitement. Skip the bags. Ask your mom for another hundred grand so we can put down the cash for a fully loaded Mercedes G-Wagon.

He caught my stare and quickly added, "You know, so it's easier for us to go on road trips."

A sharp scoff left my lips. I pulled out my card, paid for the limited-edition bag in full right then and there, and kicked the freeloading scrub to the curb.

Chapter 1

For my birthday this year, Mom wired me fifty grand.

Her text was incredibly casual.

[ I wired you fifty thousand. Buy whatever you want. ]

My hands shook slightly as I held the phone. I typed furiously into iMessage, buttering her up.

[ You're an actual fairy godmother! I love you! Best mom in the world! ]

My uncharacteristic grinning made Travis side-eye me. He held a tiny, pathetic bouquet of flowers in one hand. "What did your mom get you?" he asked, his brow furrowing. "Why are you so hyped?"

I looped my arm through his, beaming. "My mom wired me fifty grand for my birthday!"

A dismissive scoff left his lips.

I shoved my phone screen in his face. His eyes locked onto the bank balance. I could physically hear his breathing hitch and grow heavier.

"Fifty grand?" Travis choked out, his eyes wide. "Just for a birthday?"

I was too high on dopamine to notice the weird shift in his demeanor. I pulled up the photos of the two limited-edition Chanel bags I'd been obsessing over. "Look at these two. Which one should I get?"

Travis snapped out of his trance. His eyebrows pulled together. "How much are those?"

My eyes were still glued to the screen, debating between the black and the tweed. "Only about fifteen grand each," I answered casually.

"Only!"

My head snapped up at his sharp tone.

Travis sucked in a deep breath. A tight, forced smile stretched across his face. "Baby, let's not buy a bag."

He shoved that tiny bouquet into my hands and wrapped a heavy arm around my shoulders, pulling me close. "A bag is useless. Ask your mom for another hundred grand so we can put down the cash for a fully loaded Mercedes G-Wagon."

The warmth left my blood. I just stared at him.

The dead silence stretching between us must have finally tipped him off that this wasn't a normal request.

He shifted his weight, his eyes darting away before looking back. "You know, so it's easier for us to go on road trips. Haven't you always wanted to do a road trip down the Pacific Coast Highway? Once we get the Mercedes G-Wagon, I'll take you for a spin."

He said it with this arrogant confidence, like letting me sit in the passenger seat of a car he wanted was the ultimate prize.

I looked down at the tiny bouquet shoved into my hands. The edges of the petals were brown and withered. This definitely wasn't fresh from a florist; it looked like he had just snatched it out of the discount bucket at a gas station.

I wasn't a gold digger. I knew Travis grew up broke, and I never demanded expensive gifts from him. But handing me trash-tier flowers for my birthday? He clearly didn't give a damn about me.

I shoved his arm off my shoulders. "I'm not buying a car," I told him, keeping my voice flat. "And I'm definitely not taking out an auto loan."

Travis perked up, deaf to the ice in my tone. "Baby, you can put the car in my name! I'll pay off the monthly loan for you. You just need to ask your mom for that extra hundred grand so we can hit the down payment."

I stared at him, actually impressed by the sheer audacity. He was trying to gaslight me into handing over a massive pile of cash, and then expecting me to be grateful that he would pay the remaining loan on his new car.

I gripped the wilted bouquet and slammed the trashy flowers right into his face. "Stop feeding me this bullshit. If I can drop cash to buy a car outright, why the hell would I need a broke scrub like you to shoulder a loan for me?"

A flash of ugly impatience crossed Travis's eyes. I knew that micro-expression; it was his pre-tantrum face. But he swallowed it down.

He leaned in, trying to play the devoted boyfriend angle. "Baby, you're the one for me. I'm going to spend the rest of my life with you. Who cares whose name is on the title?"

"It doesn't matter. But you hate dealing with monthly payments, so just put it under my name, and I'll handle the logistics. Just imagine it."

"We cruise down the coast, stop wherever we want. It'll be amazing."

I crossed my arms, fixing him with a deadpan stare. "No."

Travis's face flushed ugly red. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he demanded, his voice cracking with sudden rage. "What's wrong with putting the car in my name? We've been together for four years, and you're suddenly going to be this calculating and stingy with me?"

We were standing in the middle of a crowded movie theater lobby. The noise around us dipped as heads turned to stare.

I clamped my jaw shut. Arguing with a freeloader in public was a waste of breath.

Chapter 2

I checked my phone screen. "Watch the movie yourself. My mom wants me home for dinner."

I spun on my heel and walked out. Travis chased after me, his voice pitching up in a relentless barrage of accusations.

"I misjudged you! I never thought you'd be this kind of woman. We've been together for years, and you're actually guarding your money against me!"

I ordered an Uber. Pulling the door open, I got in and looked back at him. "Then why don't you buy a massive pool mansion in cash and put my name on the deed?"

Travis snapped back instantly, "Why the hell would I buy you a house?"

A sharp, humorless laugh left my throat. "Then why the hell should I buy you a car?" I slammed the door shut.

Back in my bedroom, the adrenaline crash hit me. I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the wall. Travis and I had been together for four years.

He had his good moments. But the raw, ugly greed oozing out of him today made my stomach churn.

My phone screen lit up. It was a text from Travis, asking if I made it home safely.

My thumb hovered over the keyboard. A sliver of hesitation crept in. Maybe he still actually cared?

I kept it short.

[ Got home. ]

Travis spammed me with a row of kissing emojis, acting like the massive blowup in the theater lobby never happened.

[ What is my baby up to? ]

I needed to test the waters. I pulled up the photos of the two Chanel bags and hit send.

[ Which one looks better? ]

Silence.

The typing bubble popped up, disappeared, and popped up again, but no text came through. I decided to push the button.

[ I think I'll go with the first one. It matches more outfits. ]

That was the trigger. The typing bubble vanished, replaced by a rapid-fire barrage of voice memos. I tapped the first one.

"I literally just told you not to buy the bag! Don't buy it! What the hell is a fifteen-grand bag going to do for you? You think carrying that around makes you upper-class?"

The second memo autoplayed, his voice practically shaking. "You don't think about me at all! You refuse to let me use the money!

"You're a woman, you don't need assets. Men need assets!"

The third one hit. "Even if your mom gave you that money, a piece of that belongs to me! You're hoarding fifty grand just to buy a stupid purse. Are you out of your damn mind?"

I didn't even bother listening to the rest. My fingers flew across the keyboard.

[ It's the money MY mom gave me. What does that have to do with you? ]

[ Why the hell would I buy you a car? You're a delusional leech! ]

I was just getting warmed up, but when I hit send, a red exclamation point popped up next to the message bubble. Not Delivered. The coward had blocked me.

The word 'breakup' got stuck right in my throat. I squeezed the phone until my knuckles turned white.

Downstairs at the dinner table, Mom raised an eyebrow at me. "You aren't spending your birthday with your boyfriend?"

She had always hated my college romance with Travis. I used to fight her on it all the time. Now, the bitter realization hit meshe was right all along.

I swallowed my pride, sliding into the chair next to her and bumping her shoulder. "I wanted to spend my birthday with you, Mom."

A knowing smile spread across her face, even though she saw right through me. "Your mouth lies better than a man's."

I kept my mouth shut, but a sarcastic thought flashed through my mind: Yeah right. Men lie way better than anyone.

We had a quiet, comfortable birthday dinner. Looking at the fine lines around Mom's eyes, I felt a knot tighten in my chest. She had spent her whole life protecting me.

Why the hell should I let Travis manipulate me? I needed to respect myself, and respect the woman sitting across from me.

A few days later, the block lifted. A text from Travis popped onto my screen.

[ Tomorrow is Saturday. Don't forget. ]

I stared at the message for a second before it clicked. We had made plans weeks ago to drive down and meet his parents this Saturday.

Travis fired off two more texts in rapid succession.

[ This is your first time meeting my family. You need to make a good impression. ]

[ Buy my dad a few boxes of limited-edition Cuban cigars and a couple of bottles of top-shelf whiskey. Get two large jars of my mom's favorite La Mer face cream, plus a diamond necklace. Oh, and pick up some premium imported supplements for my grandma. ]

Chapter 3

I stared at the screen, the words dying in my throat.

[ Do you have any idea how much all of that costs? ]

Travis's reply dripped with contempt.

[ It's just money! My parents are planning to give you a welcome card with a couple hundred bucks in it anyway. ]

[ Besides, you literally just got fifty grand. What's the big deal about spending a little to show my parents some respect? Don't tell me you can't even make a basic effort. ]

The sheer entitlement nearly made me gag. Just because I had money didn't mean his family was entitled to bleed me dry. The words "we're done" sat heavy on my tongue, but I swallowed them down.

A new plan was already clicking into place in my head. I'll admit itI'm not a saint. After a guy disgusts me to this level, there is no way in hell I'm letting him walk away without a scratch.

I forced a sweet, agreeable tone into my text.

[ Okay! I'll book a place for tomorrow. You guys head over first and wait for me. ]

Travis instantly assumed we were back to normal. He fired back.

[ Make sure it's upscale. Book a five-star restaurant. If it's too cheap, my mom will get upset. ]

He was practically digging his own grave. I played right along.

[ Don't worry. I'll book the most exclusive place in the city! ]

I secured a private dining room at the most outrageously expensive five-star restaurant downtown and shot him the address.

Travis fired back instantly.

[ See? You're finally acting right. ]

The next day, Travis and his entire family arrived at the restaurant on time. He sent me a photo of the luxurious private room.

[ The vibe here is decent. Have you left yet? We're all here. ]

I texted him a picture of a sleek, expensive-looking whiskey box and some high-end shopping bags.

[ On my way. I'm carrying a lot of stuff, so just go ahead and order first. ]

Travis paused before replying.

[ Hurry up. We're waiting for you. ]

I was standing in my living room, leisurely watering my monstera plant. Less than ten minutes later, my phone buzzed with an incoming call from Travis.

I pressed a finger to my lips, shushing the private nail tech who had just walked through my front door, and swiped to answer. "I'm in the Uber," I lied smoothly.

"Traffic is a nightmare. Seriously, just order first. I'll be there soon."

I could hear the irritation grating in his voice. I kept my tone dripping with fake sweetness. "I've got all the gifts in my lap, so I'm moving a little slow."

"I'm already on the road. Just hold on a few more minutes."

I hung up before he could argue and forwarded him a fake screenshot of an Uber route.

The nail tech shifted awkwardly by the door. "Are you heading out now?"

I sank back into my plush sofa and smiled up at her. "If I was heading out, I wouldn't have hired you to come over."

The fake Uber screenshot must have bought his patience. He finally caved and placed the order.

Fifteen minutes later, my screen lit up with a new photo. The picture showed Travis's entire family seated around a massive mahogany table. The spread was insaneMaine lobster, Alaskan king crab, Beluga caviar, the works. They were all staring blankly into the camera, looking cold and entitled, just waiting to assert their dominance over their future "daughter-in-law."

[ Everyone is waiting on you. ]

I thought about the special delivery currently pulling up to the restaurant and burst out laughing. The nail tech looked up, startled.

"Oh, don't mind me," I beamed at her. "Your line work is just really pretty!"

Travis and his family sat in that private room, practically foaming at the mouth in anticipation. But the only person who walked through the door was a courier