We'd been dating for a few months, he made me feel seen, and I was hooked.
One Saturday, he suggested we go to the superstore. I thought it was going to be a casual errand — grab some snacks, maybe some toiletries. I didn't realize it was going to become the day my perception of generosity would be… challenged.
We strolled through the aisles, laughing about absolutely nothing. I picked up some candy, jokingly waving it in front of him. "You're spoiling me," I said, grinning.
He shook his head, placing it in the basket for me. "What am I here for?" he replied, the corner of his lips tugging up in that signature smirk of his.
It felt like one of those rom-com moments — warm lighting in my head, soft music, the whole cliché. When we got to the register, he pulled out his card and paid for everything.
I nearly did a little happy dance in my mind jokingly. Oh my man, my man, I thought, trying to suppress my giggles so he wouldn't notice.
We got home, chatting about the mundane — laundry, his weird obsession with organizing socks, my latest attempt at cooking something edible. And then… the text came.
Zain: "I have calculated the amount of your stuff. That comes to $4.78. Please transfer to my account."
I stared at my phone as if it had suddenly transformed into a live grenade. $4.78?! My jaw dropped. My initial thought: maybe he just didn't have much on him and wanted to even it out later.
I didn't respond immediately — I had to process. Then I just… sent the money. Thanks, I typed. Simple. Clean. No drama.
I shook my head and laughed quietly to myself. Okay, maybe that was just one of those weird things, I thought. He's probably struggling today or something.
But the pattern started to emerge. Over the next few weeks, I noticed how Zain would treat money in ways that didn't make sense to me.
He'd spend on unnecessary things for himself — a new gadget here, a fancy meal there — but when it came to buying anything for me, suddenly it became a calculation exercise.
It was bizarre. But I loved him. And love has this funny way of making you overlook red flags.
In between all that… I realized something about myself. I liked taking care of people. I liked buying gifts, surprising him randomly, just because. It wasn't about showing off or making him feel indebted — I genuinely loved seeing him smile. He mentioned once, casually, that he liked a particular book; the next time I saw it at the bookstore, I snatched it up for him without a second thought. He casually said he wanted a certain snack during one of our errands; I grabbed it the next time I was at the store, slipping it into his bag with a little grin, imagining the little nod of approval he'd give me.
Sometimes, it was small things, like picking up his favorite coffee on my way to meet him, or grabbing a quirky little gadget that reminded me of him. Other times, it was… less small. Like the time I found the perfect watch — not just any watch, but one I knew he had casually mentioned admiring during one of our chats. I didn't even hesitate. It was six hundred dollars, a ridiculous amount, and my bank account screamed when I bought it. But seeing him slide it onto his wrist, eyes lighting up like a kid in a candy store, made it all worth it. I watched him twist the band, turn it, smile at it like it was magic — and in that moment, I felt this… warmth, this joy I couldn't really explain.
Whenever I transferred money to cover both our expenses, I never asked for reimbursement — even when he reminded me about it once or twice. I guess part of me felt it balanced out somehow. I was putting my love into little gestures, little moments, and that felt like currency in its own way. Money could come and go, but the thought, the intention behind my gifts, the little sparks of happiness I saw in him — that was priceless.
It wasn't like I expected something in return, though. I didn't tally up what I spent or expect a thank-you every single time. But I did notice the way he sometimes hesitated, how he'd double-check the receipt or make a note of "how much we owe each other." It was… confusing. But I brushed it off. I told myself that love isn't a ledger, and maybe he just had a quirky way of showing care.
Until another incident confirmed my suspicions.
It was a weekday, and we decided to grab a few things from the mall together. I had a list of random snacks and toiletries; he had some clothes and a game he'd been eyeing. We put our stuff in the same basket because, well… convenience, right?
When we got to the cashier, I noticed him carefully separating my items from his.
"Separating them?" I asked, a laugh slipping from my lips.
He gave me a small, serious nod. "Just makes it easier to calculate."
I choked back a giggle, shaking my head. This was ridiculous. He had money — not the kind that needed counting over $5 here or $10 there. I'd seen it. But here he was, treating my $15 of snacks like it was a mortgage.
He paid for his stuff, then waited politely for me to pay for mine. I tried not to laugh out loud, but I couldn't help it. This guy… I thought, still smirking.
I didn't say anything — I just paid, letting the absurdity roll off me like water. Deep down, though, a tiny seed of doubt had been planted. If he really wanted to treat me like his girl, would he make me pay for my own snacks?
I overlooked the incident, as usual, until he did something I never saw coming.