Petty Gifts, Big Payback
I ditched a shot at studying abroad to help my boyfriend, Gavin Censori, launch his startup. Stuck it out with him through seven brutal years.
Then boom—success hit, and so did the ghosting.
On Valentine's Day, he hit me with the classic "work's crazy" excuse. Instead of showing up, he had some random delivery dude drop off a box of cosmetic samples. Samples.
Later that night, his secretary Rebecca popped up on my feed, flexing hard.
Caption: [With a boss like this, why go home early?]
Pic: A box of high-end makeup. Same brand. Hers weren't samples.
I dropped a comment: [You're doing great at your sidechick job. Gold star.]
Gavin called instantly, losing it. "What's your problem? She's just an employee! I bust my ass making money for you, and you're always jealous!"
I laughed. Didn't even yell. Just dumped him.
Seven years, and I'd never touched a dime of his. Joke's on him—his precious startup? Secretly bankrolled by me.
Fast-forward three years. Business summit.
He rolled in wearing a tailored suit. The second he spotted me with a bag of bottles, his smirk kicked in.
"Didn't like those cosmetics I gave you, huh? Now look at you—reduced to bottle collecting?"