I used to believe in love and thought Valentine’s Day was about real connection. That was until I met Andrew, who changed my perspective.
We’d been dating for three months when things took a turn. Andrew, charming and successful, had an accident that led me to treat his injury at the hospital where I was an intern. Despite the pain, he was joking and flirting, and we quickly started dating. We bonded over our differences—he was financially stable, while I struggled with medical school debt.
Valentine’s Day arrived, and Andrew planned a surprise. I was nervous about the cost, but he assured me it was all covered. We ended up at an incredibly expensive restaurant, and he filmed our night, saying things like, “Man, she really knows how to eat.” When the check came, a shocking $3,180, he insisted we split it, even though he’d promised to cover everything.
Then, he turned his camera on me, mocking me for not being able to afford my dinner. I was humiliated, and as the waiter waited for payment, I grabbed my coat and left. Andrew’s calls and texts flooded in, explaining it was a joke, but I couldn’t forgive him.
The next day, he showed up at my door, and I threatened him with a restraining order. Even my best friend suggested I reconsider the breakup, pointing out his wealth, but I knew money doesn’t make someone a good person. The betrayal was too much to ignore.
So, was I wrong for ending things? What do you think?