I Funded Their Trip With My Surgery Money

The glass door swung open. My boyfriend, Boaz Marshall, hurried out and grabbed my wrist.

"I can explain, Ari."

Three of my other childhood friends—Drake Owen, Evans Harding, and Finley Booker—followed Boaz out, showing none of the embarrassment one might expect after borrowing money from me.

But I could see four black cards resting on the table through the glass. They certainly weren't short on cash.

Just last month, Drake bought a new car worth 600 thousand dollars. Evans' investment account consistently held a seven-figure balance. Finley also often collected watches, each valued at well over 50 thousand dollars.

As for Boaz, he was even less strapped for cash.

The very day he borrowed my last 65 thousand dollars, he had just taken delivery of a new sports car.

"So, you borrowed the money I needed for my surgery, just to make sure I couldn't afford a plane ticket?" I asked in a trembling voice.

Cindy followed them out, a hiking backpack slung over her shoulders. She wore no makeup, her hair pulled back into a high ponytail, and her smile suggested she'd never known what it was like to be fatigued.

"Ari, they're just worried about your health. The weather on the snowy mountains is unpredictable. It's dangerous for you to come along."

My gaze fell to the hiking boots on her feet. They were the exact same pair I'd had my eye on for six months.

Ever since we started planning our post-graduation trip, I'd mentioned in our group chat, time and again, how much I wanted to see a real, snow-capped mountain. I had even put together a 20-page itinerary, bought a technical shell jacket, and followed online training videos every single day.

Boaz had promised that he'd watch the sunrise hit the snow-capped peaks with me once we reached the summit.

As it turned out, they remembered everything. They just decided Cindy should go in my place instead.

"I can take care of myself."

Finley let out a laugh.

"You?" he sneered. "You get winded just climbing two flights of stairs, and your pill organizer is bigger than your makeup bag whenever we travel. Don't we always have to take turns looking after you?

"But Cindy is different. She's backpacked through the Great Canyon all on her own, and she's even gone skydiving and scuba diving by herself. Traveling with her is completely stress-free."

Drake chimed in as well. "The last time we went camping, you had heart trouble in the middle of the night and woke everyone up. It was total chaos. We just wanted a relaxing graduation trip. Is that just too much to ask for?"

It was.

They could have said no to me.

They could have been upfront about finding me a burden, or even cut me out of the trip entirely.

Instead, they took turns making up excuses to drain the surgery fund I'd spent three years saving. Because they knew that as long as I had enough left in my account for a plane ticket, I wouldn't give up on that snow-capped mountain I'd longed to see.

Cindy pursed her lips. "Maybe I just shouldn't go."

"Don't even think about that," Boaz said, stopping her without hesitation. "The itinerary was designed based on your physical stamina. What's the point if you drop out now?"

He then looked at me and said, "Arianna, we're just holding onto the money for you for a bit. Just stay home and behave yourself. We'll give it back to you when we get back."

I held out my medical report.

"The doctor says I need to be admitted to the hospital within 48 hours."

He glanced at it but didn't take it.

"You've had this condition for years. Why does it suddenly become 'serious' right when we're about to leave?"

I slowly withdrew my hand.

When I was 18 years old and had my first episode, it was Boaz who carried me into the emergency room.

Back then, he told me my life was more important than anything else. But now, he was trading my life for a peaceful, uninterrupted vacation.

I turned on the voice recorder.

"You're saying that all 260 thousand dollars will be paid back within half a month, right?"

All four of them agreed at once, one after another. Boaz even reached out and ruffled my hair, saying, "Stop making a scene, Arianna Dawson. When we get back, we'll take you somewhere a bit safer for a mini-vacation instead."

I stepped back, dodging his hand.

My phone rang just then. It was the hospital nurse, calling to tell me I had only 48 hours left to settle the payment.

If I missed this hospital spot, there was no guarantee that I would ever get another chance for the surgery.