My Boyfriend Poured His Drink On My Head At Our Anniversary Dinner And Said “You Deserve Worse.”

The restaurant felt like it was closing in around me. Marello’s has this low, warm light that flatters everyone — except, apparently, me that night. The table of men across from us had been halfway through a bottle of Barolo when I walked in, laughing and elbowing each other like they owned the room. Christopher met me with that charm he always uses when he wants something: small, practiced smile, a kiss on the cheek that smelled faintly of gym sweat and aftershave. I told myself it was fine, that maybe he wanted to share the night with his friends. I told myself a lot of things that night I knew were lies.

We sat. I ordered the salmon because I like to pretend I eat well on special occasions. He ordered for them. Nathan, who I’d met twice before, launched into a story about some crossfit challenge and I tried to make conversation like a normal person does when the people you love suddenly behave like strangers. I laughed at the wrong moment, I smiled when my cheeks were hot, and I kept waiting for the evening to right itself. But that moment never came.

It came apart instead.

Christopher looked at me across the table and, as if rehearsed, said, “When are you finally going to lose weight?” The words were small but shaped like a knife. I thought for half a second he was joking, some bizarre private joke that I didn’t know the punchline to. His friends fell quiet. The restaurant noise dimmed. I remember the way the server’s face froze for a second like she wasn’t sure whether to retreat or intervene.

“I’m serious,” he said. “You’ve gained fifteen pounds since we started dating. It’s embarrassing.” The laughter that followed was not the sympathetic kind; it was predatory. I felt something in me twist. You try to prepare yourself for humiliation, but nobody prepares you for that kind of cold, public contempt coming out of someone who once kissed your forehead and told you you’d be okay.

“Can we talk about this later?” I murmured, meaning not in front of his buddies, meaning not like this. He shook his head, though, as if the moment demanded an audience. “No. Let’s talk now.” He said it like he was setting an appointment for me to be small.

Then he said the thing that cut wider. “My ex Catherine was way hotter than you. I’m starting to think I downgraded.” It wasn’t commentary. It was a verdict, handed down to me in a room full of people who clearly thought this was comedy. I heard my own breath, loud and odd in my ears. The color left my face. My hands were suddenly heavier than they should be.

I tried to make a joke. I tried to tell myself this was a sick test. Maybe if I laughed, it would be over. Maybe it would be enough. But he didn’t laugh. He reached for his wine glass in a slow, deliberate way, and for a heartbeat I thought — absurdly — that he was about to clink his glass to end the cruelty. Instead he poured the whole glass of red wine over my head.

Warm, sticky liquid soaked through my hair and down the front of my dress. It ran into the hollow of my collarbone and soaked the first page of the napkin on my lap. People gasped. A few of his friends laughed; others shifted uncomfortably. The man I loved looked at me and said, loud enough for everyone to hear, “You deserve worse.” I sat there, stunned, wine dripping off my chin, the velvet of the dress I had picked carefully for him ruined, and all I could feel was this strange, crystallized clarity: nothing about this was accidental.

I stood up. No one reached for me. No one offered a towel. Christopher laughed with two of his friends as if they’d just watched a magic trick, and I realized in that slow, awful second that the trust I had placed in him had been weaponized. I left. I didn’t make a scene. I didn’t wait for apologies or promises. I walked out into the cold Milwaukee night with red wine cooling on my skin and dignity burning like a coal in my chest.

Jenna opened her apartment door before I even knocked. She’s lived downtown for years and has an iron will about what she tolerates from people. She took one look at my soaked dress and pulled a robe over me without comment. “You look like someone tried to drown you in pinot noir,” she said, then guided me to the couch with this no-nonsense efficiency I loved about her. Her eyes were full of a hundred questions but she let me breathe first.

Sitting there in a borrowed robe, the night replayed under my skin. It’s the little details that keep sticking: the way his smile had hardened the second the server turned away, the glance he gave Nathan like they’d rehearsed the timing, the cold precision of “You deserve worse.” The phrase echoed in my skull like a verdict. I wasn’t hysterical; I was methodically taking inventory of the life I had with him because the practical things always matter after betrayal. Where are the keys? What documents are in the apartment? What can he touch? What can’t he touch?

We signed a lease together four months ago on a two-bedroom in Bay View because two incomes made the world easier, because he pitched it as the “next step,” because the rent was doable and the place had light. Both our names are on that lease. All of my life — the remnants of my dad’s framed photos, my textbooks for the continuing education classes I scrape pennies for, my laptop where I keep invoices and shifts and plans — they’re there. I can see them if I close my eyes, a scatter of things that are mine but that he now legally shares.

And then there’s the bank account.

I replayed the conversation in my head like an audio file you can’t stop. The thing is, there were signs. I’m looking back now and seeing them so clearly.

Continue in the c0mment

So, Christopher and I have been together for 2 years as of today. 2 years. And this man planned an anniversary dinner at this upscale place downtown called Marello’s, except he invited six of his friends without telling me. I showed up thinking it was just us, wearing this navy blue dress I bought specifically for tonight.

And there’s this whole table of his buddies from his gym already seated and halfway through a bottle of wine. Whatever, I thought. Maybe he wanted to celebrate with friends, too. I’m not someone who makes a big deal about stuff like that. Honestly, I was just happy to have a nice evening out. I sat down next to Christopher, ordered the salmon, and tried to make conversation with his friend Nathan, who I’ve met maybe twice before.

About 20 minutes in, right after our appetizers arrived, Christopher looked at me across the table and goes, “When are you finally going to lose weight?” I legitimately laughed because I thought he was making some weird joke I wasn’t getting. His friends got quiet, but I was still smiling like an idiot, waiting for the punchline.

He wasn’t joking. He leaned back in his chair and said, “I’m serious. You’ve gained 15 lbs since we started dating. It’s embarrassing.” The entire table went silent. I could feel every single person staring at me. I tried to keep my voice steady and said, “Can we please talk about this later?” Meaning, not in front of your entire friend group, but he actually shook his head and said, “No, let’s talk now.

” Then this man looked me dead in the eyes and said, “My ex Catherine was way hotter than you. I’m starting to think I downgraded.” I sat there for what felt like an hour, but was probably 10 seconds, completely frozen. My face was burning. I could feel tears starting, and I was trying so hard not to cry in front of everyone. I finally managed to say, “Why are you doing this?” Christopher picked up his wine glass.

I thought maybe he was going to toast or something to break the tension. Instead, he reached across the table and poured the entire glass of red wine over my head. It soaked into my hair, ran down my face, completely drenched the front of my dress. I just sat there in shock, wine dripping off my chin onto my lap.

He put the empty glass down and said loudly, “You deserve worse.” And his friends laughed. Not all of them, but Nathan and this guy Philip were actually laughing like this was the funniest thing they’d ever seen. I stood up, grabbed my purse, and walked out. I didn’t say a word. I didn’t make a scene.

I just left, got in my car, drove straight to Jenna’s apartment, and now I’m here. Here’s what I need everyone to understand. I’m not some doormat who’s going to cry about this. and then take him back when he apologizes. I’m not that person. I’m the girl who paid her own way through vette tech school while working two jobs.

I’m the one who moved to Milwaukee from my hometown in Illinois with $800 in my bank account and built a whole life here by myself. I don’t take disrespect and I sure as hell don’t let men treat me like garbage. But I also need to be smart about this because here’s what I haven’t mentioned yet.

We signed a lease together 4 months ago on a two-bedroom apartment in Bay View. Both our names are on it. All of my stuff is there. my clothes, my laptop, my textbooks from continuing education courses, photos of my dad who passed away 3 years ago. Literally everything I own. And here’s the other thing. About 6 weeks ago, Christopher convinced me to add him to my savings account as a joint holder.

He said it was because we were building a life together and couples should have shared finances. He made this whole speech about trust and partnership and how his parents had always shared everything like an idiot. I actually thought it was romantic. I went to the bank during my lunch break and added him.

There’s about $8,000 in that account. It’s everything I’ve saved from working overtime shifts at the clinic, plus money my dad left me that I’ve been carefully putting away for emergencies. So, yeah, I left the restaurant with wine in my hair and my boyfriend’s laughter ringing in my ears. But I’m not stupid.

I can’t just storm back to the apartment and start throwing his stuff out when half of it is technically his legal residence, too. And I definitely can’t give him any warning that I’m about to burn his entire life down because he has access to money that took me years to save. Jenna’s letting me stay here tonight. She already offered to go with me tomorrow to get my stuff.

And she’s texting her brother Benjamin to see what my options are for getting Christopher off the lease and out of my apartment, but right now I’m just sitting here still in this wine stained dress trying to process what the hell just happened. The thing is there were signs. I’m looking back now and seeing them so clearly.

Like 2 months ago when we went to his company picnic and he introduced me to his co-workers, he made this joke about how I eat like a linebacker. Everyone laughed but it felt mean. or three weeks ago when I suggested we go hiking and he said, “Why? You’re just going to complain about being tired anyway.” But tonight was different. Tonight he humiliated me in public on our anniversary in front of his friends.

He poured wine on me like I was trash. And those men laughed. I keep replaying it in my head. The way he looked at me when he said I was a downgrade from his ex. The sound of the wine glugging out of the glass. Philip’s laugh. Jenna came out of her bedroom about an hour ago and found me sitting here in the dark.

She asked if I wanted to talk about it and I told her the whole story. She literally said, “We’re going to destroy him.” And I love her for that, but I need to be strategic. I can’t just react emotionally even though every cell in my body wants to march back to that restaurant and dump an entire bottle of wine on his head in front of whoever’s still there.

First thing tomorrow, I’m going to the bank the second it opens and removing Christopher from my savings account. I don’t care what excuse I have to make. Then Jenna and I are going to the apartment while Christopher’s at work. usually doesn’t get home until 6:00 p.m. And I’m packing every single thing that belongs to me.

But that’s just the beginning. He thinks he embarrassed me tonight. He thinks he humiliated me in front of his friends and I’m going to go cry about it and maybe beg him to take me back. He has absolutely no idea what’s coming. Update. Okay, so remember how I said I was going to be strategic? Yeah. Well, things got messy and I found out information that makes this whole situation so much worse than I thought.

I barely slept at Jenna’s. Around 5:00 a.m., I was just staring at her ceiling, replaying the wine pouring over my head on repeat. And finally, I got up and got dressed because there was no point trying to sleep anymore. Jenna woke up around 6:30 and found me already sitting on her couch with my shoes on, keys in hand.

She didn’t even ask, just grabbed her stuff and said, “Let’s go deal with the bank first.” We got to Chase right when they opened at 8:00 a.m. and I marched straight up to this banker woman named Samantha, who I’ve worked with before for other account stuff. I told her I needed Christopher removed from my savings account immediately.

Like right now, this second, Samantha started pulling up my account and asking standard questions about why. And I straight up told her, “My boyfriend publicly humiliated me last night and I don’t trust him with access to my money anymore.” She got this look on her face like she understood exactly what kind of situation this was.

And she started typing faster. Then she stopped. She looked at the screen, then at me, then back at the screen. She asked me when was the last time I checked my account balance. Like actually looked at the transactions, not just the main number. I said I checked it last week. Why? She turned her monitor to show me.

And there were three transfers from my savings to Christopher’s personal checking account. One for $2,000 5 days ago, another for $1,500 3 days ago, and one for $3,000 yesterday morning, hours before our anniversary dinner. I pulled out my phone with shaking hands and logged into my app. The balance showed 1,247.

I’d been so focused on the wine incident and getting out of that restaurant last night that I hadn’t even thought to check my bank account. And this morning, I was so angry and sleepd deprived that I just wanted to get to the bank. I didn’t think to look first. He took $6,500 of my money while planning to humiliate me that same night.

While knowing he was going to pour wine on me in front of his friends, Jenna started going off right there in the bank. She was saying, “We need to call the police. This is theft. He can’t just take her money.” But Samantha explained that because he’s a joint account holder, legally, he’s allowed to withdraw or transfer funds.

It’s technically his money, too, once his name is on the account, even though I’m the one who put every single dollar in there. I removed him from the account right then. Samantha processed it immediately. But the money was already gone. $6,500 of my savings, my emergency fund, money my dad left me, just gone. Transferred to Christopher’s account where I have zero access and zero legal right to get it back without going to court.

We left the bank and I was shaking. Not crying, not sad, just furious. Jenna kept asking if I wanted to wait and calm down before going to the apartment, but I said, “No, we’re going right now.” I wanted my stuff out before Christopher got home from work, and I wanted to be gone before I did something I’d regret. We got to the apartment in Bay View around 9:30 a.m.

I used my key, walked in, and immediately started throwing my clothes into trash bags because I didn’t even want to take the time to fold anything. Jenna was helping me pack up my bathroom stuff when my phone started ringing. Christopher calling me like nothing happened. I answered on speaker and before I could say anything, he launched into this explanation about how he was so sorry about last night.

He’d had too much to drink. His friends were being idiots and peer pressuring him. He didn’t mean any of it. The wine was an accident. He was gesturing with his glass and it just slipped. He felt terrible. I asked him about the $6,500. Just flat out said, “I know you transferred my money to your account. Explain that.

” He went quiet for like 10 seconds. Then he started talking fast, saying he was going to tell me he’d needed it for something important. He was going to pay me back next month when he got his bonus from work. He kept saying, “It’s our money anyway. We’re building a life together. What’s mine is yours?” I told him, “That’s not how joint accounts work when one person contributes 100% of the funds.

And also, you don’t get to take someone’s money and then pour wine on them at dinner. Where the hell did my money go? What did you need $6,500 for?” And this is where it gets insane. Christopher admitted that he’d been helping his friend Nathan with some expenses. Nathan’s going through a divorce and needed money for his lawyer and his new apartment deposit.

Christopher felt bad for him and wanted to help out. So, he took my money to give to his friend. He gave $6,500 of my savings to Nathan. Nathan, who laughed when Christopher poured wine on me. Nathan, who I’ve met exactly twice. Christopher took money that I saved from working overtime shifts, money my dead father left me, and handed it to his gym buddy who’s going through a divorce. I completely lost it.

I was screaming into the phone asking what gives him the right to give my money away. Asking if he’s lost his entire mind, asking if he seriously thought I wouldn’t find out. Jenna was in the background yelling that we’re pressing charges. And Christopher started backtracking saying it was a loan to Nathan.

He’s going to get it back and return it to me. It’s not like the money’s gone forever. Then he said the thing that made me see red. He said, “Maybe if I wasn’t so selfish about money, he wouldn’t have felt like he needed to take it without asking. Maybe if I was more generous and understanding about his friend’s situations, he would have felt comfortable just asking me to help Nathan.

” He literally tried to make this my fault. Like, I’m the problem for not wanting to hand over thousands of dollars to a man I barely know. I hung up on him. Jenna and I kept packing and about 20 minutes later, Christopher came bursting through the apartment door. His face was all red and he was breathing hard like he’d run up the stairs.

He started demanding to know what I was doing. Why was I packing my stuff? We needed to talk about this like adults. I told him I’m getting my belongings and leaving. And also, he has until the end of the month to find a new place because I’m getting him off the lease. Christopher actually had the nerve to say I can’t kick him out.

He lives here, too. His name is on the lease. I reminded him that my name was on the lease first. I signed it 4 months ago and added him a week later because he said his apartment was too small for both of us. I’m the primary lease holder. I’ve been paying the full rent every month because he claimed he was saving up for a car.

And now I know where his money’s been going. Straight to Nathan’s divorce lawyer. Apparently, we started fighting right there in the living room, both of us yelling. Christopher kept saying I was overreacting. The wine thing was a drunken mistake. The money thing was just him trying to help a friend. He said I was being dramatic and making this into something bigger than it needed to be.

I asked him point blank, “Did you plan to humiliate me at dinner? Did you transfer my money knowing you were going to treat me like garbage that night?” He didn’t answer right away. That pause told me everything. He knew what he was going to do at that restaurant. He took my money first, secured it in his account, and then publicly degraded me, knowing I’d probably leave him.

When I said that out loud, Christopher’s entire face changed. He stopped trying to apologize and started getting defensive. He said, “Fine. You want the truth? I’ve been unhappy for months. You’re not the person I thought you were when we started dating. You’ve let yourself go. You’re always tired from work. You never want to do anything fun anymore.

And yes, Catherine was hotter than you. There it was. The real reason he’d been planning this. The money transfer wasn’t about helping Nathan. Or at least not just about helping Nathan. It was about securing funds before he blew up our relationship. He knew I’d leave after what he did at the restaurant.

He wanted me to leave, and he made sure to take a chunk of my savings first. Jenna told him to get out of the apartment so I could finish packing. Christopher said, “No, this is his home, too. He’s not leaving.” So, I told him, “Fine. Sit there and watch me pack every single thing I own and move out of your life.” He stood there in the kitchen while Jenna and I carried bags to her car.

Every trip past him, he tried to talk to me, saying we could work this out. Maybe we just need some space, maybe couples counseling. I ignored him completely. On my last trip out, carrying a box with my dad’s photos and my veterinary textbooks, Christopher grabbed my arm. He said he loves me.

He made mistakes, but everyone makes mistakes and I’m being unfair by not even trying to work through this. I looked him dead in the eyes and said, “You poured wine on my head in front of your friends and stole $6,500 from me to give to one of those friends. There is no working through this. Let go of my arm.” He let go. I walked out.

Jenna and I loaded the last of my stuff into her car and her brother Benjamin’s truck. He’d shown up halfway through to help and we left. Now I’m back at Jenna’s apartment with all my belongings in trash bags and boxes scattered around her living room. Benjamin’s looking into what legal options I have for getting my money back.

But he’s already warned me that because Christopher was a joint account holder, it’s going to be really hard to prove theft. I might have to take him to small claims court. And even then, there’s no guarantee. But here’s what I keep coming back to. Christopher planned this. He didn’t just have a bad night and lose his temper.

He transferred money on Tuesday and Thursday and then treated me like garbage on Friday, knowing I’d probably leave. He secured my money first and then burned everything down. And the thing about Nathan needing money for his divorce, I don’t even know if that’s true. For all I know, Christopher and Nathan are splitting my $6,500 right now.

Someone in the comments on my last post said I should check if there’s more going on that I don’t know about. And honestly, I’m starting to think there is because this level of planning, this level of cruelty doesn’t come from nowhere. Tomorrow, I’m going to the leasing office to see what I can do about getting Christopher off the lease.

Benjamin’s coming with me because apparently these situations can get complicated. But tonight I’m just sitting here surrounded by trash bags full of my life trying to figure out what I missed. Final update. Okay, so this update is going to be messy and probably some of you will think I went too far, but honestly, I don’t care anymore.

I got my life back and Christopher got exactly what he deserved after everything that happened in my last update. moving all my stuff out, finding out Christopher stole $6,500, him admitting he gave Nathan $2,000, and refusing to say where the rest went. I was stuck at Jenna’s apartment trying to figure out my next move.

Benjamin was saying the small claims court process could take months. Franklin at the leasing office said getting Christopher off the lease would take even longer. I was looking at possibly half a year of legal BS while Christopher sat in my apartment that I’ve been paying for. I called my mom Wednesday night because I needed to vent to someone.

I didn’t tell her everything, just that Christopher and I broke up and it was really bad and I was staying with Jenna for a bit. My mom’s not stupid though. She kept asking questions and I ended up telling her about the wine at dinner. I still didn’t mention the stolen money because I knew if I told her that she’d tell Billy and Billy would lose his mind.

Well, my mom told Billy anyway. Not about the money, just about the wine. And that was enough. Thursday morning, my phone rang at like 7:00 a.m. Billy, he said he was getting in his truck right now and driving to Milwaukee. I tried to tell him it wasn’t necessary. I was handling it. But he said, “No, you’re not. You’re sleeping on your friend’s couch while that [ __ ] is in your apartment.

I’m coming.” I said, “Billy, please don’t do anything crazy.” He said, “I’m not going to do anything crazy. I’m just going to have a conversation with Christopher about respect.” Then he hung up. Billy showed up at Jenna’s around 9:00 a.m. Came in, gave me this huge hug, and then said, “Okay, where does this piece of [ __ ] live? And what’s the full story?” I told him everything.

the anniversary dinner, the wine, Christopher’s friends laughing, the $6,500, finding out he’d been planning to leave me for months, the woman named Ariana he’d been seeing, all of it. When I got to the part about the stolen money, he stood up and said, “That’s it. We’re going to get your money back right now.” I tried to explain that legally Christopher had a right to the money since he was on the joint account.

Billy said, “I don’t give a single [ __ ] about legal.” Jenna and I went with him. We drove to the apartment and Billy didn’t even knock. Just used my key and walked right in. Christopher was on the couch with his laptop, wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt. He saw us walk in and immediately jumped up saying, “What the hell? You can’t just walk in here. This is my home, too.

I’m calling the police.” Billy walked right up to him and said, “Go ahead. Call them. While you’re at it, explain to them why you stole $6,500 from my sister.” Christopher backed up, saying, “It wasn’t stolen. It was a joint account. He had every legal right.” Billy said, “Legal. Legal. Everyone keeps talking about legal.

You know what I think about legal? Nothing. You poured wine on my sister’s head in front of a room full of people and then stole her money. That’s all I need to know. Christopher said Billy needed to leave or he really would call the cops. Billy said, “I’m waiting. Call them.” They stared at each other for like 10 seconds. Christopher didn’t call anyone.

Billy said, “Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to open your banking app right now and transfer back whatever money you still have.” Christopher said he couldn’t. He’d already spent some of it. Billy asked how much he had left. Christopher said he didn’t know. Maybe $4,000. Billy said, “Then you’re transferring $4,000 right now.

” Christopher said, “No, he wasn’t doing that. Billy couldn’t make him.” That’s when Billy grabbed Christopher by his shirt and slammed him against the wall. Not pushed, slammed. Christopher’s head hit the wall and he made this sound like all the air got knocked out of him. Billy got right in his face and said, “My sister worked overtime shifts to save that money.

My dad, who’s dead, left her that money, and you took it so you could leave her after you humiliated her? You’re the worst kind of coward and you’re going to give her money back or I’m going to make you regret every single decision you made in the last month. Christopher tried to push Billy off and Billy punched him right in the face hard.

Christopher’s head snapped to the side and he dropped to his knees holding his face. Blood starting to come out of his nose. Billy said, “Get up.” Christopher stayed on the floor saying Billy couldn’t do this. This was assault. He was calling the police. Billy said, “Then call them, but you’re transferring that money first.

” Christopher got up slowly, his nose bleeding. He got his phone out with shaking hands and opened his banking app. Billy stood right behind him watching the screen. Christopher transferred $4,200. Billy made him show the confirmation. I checked my account on my phone. $4,200 had just come in. Billy said, “Now you’re going to tell me where the rest of the money is.

” Christopher said he gave $2,000 to Nathan months ago. Nathan’s been paying him back in installments. Billy said, “How much has Nathan paid back?” Christopher said, ” $800.” Billy said, “So Nathan has won $200 of my sister’s money. Give me his number. Christopher tried to say Nathan didn’t have the money anymore. It went to his lawyer.

Billy said, “I don’t care. Give me his number.” Christopher gave him Nathan’s number. Then Billy said, “You’ve got 2 weeks to get out of this apartment.” Christopher started to say something about the lease. And Billy grabbed him by the shirt again and said, “I don’t want to hear about the lease. You’re going to be gone in 2 weeks or I’m coming back and we’re not going to have a conversation next time.

” Christopher just nodded, still holding his bleeding nose. We left. In the car, Billy called Nathan right there on speaker. Nathan answered and Billy said, “This is Billy. I’m the brother of the woman whose money Christopher stole. I understand you got $2,000 of that money.” Nathan started stammering, saying, “Christopher told him it was a loan. He didn’t know it was stolen.

He’d already paid back $800.” Billy said, “I don’t care what Christopher told you. You’ve got $1,200 that belongs to my sister, and you’re going to return it. All of it.” Nathan said he didn’t have $1,200. He’d used it for his lawyer. he could maybe get $500 together. Billy said, “You’ve got until Saturday to get me $1,200 or I’m driving to wherever you live and we’re going to have the same conversation I just had with Christopher.” Nathan said, “Okay, okay.

He’d figure it out. Just give him until Saturday.” Billy hung up and looked at me. Said, “You’re getting your money back. All of it. I don’t care what I have to do.” I asked if Christopher would actually call the cops. Billy said, “Maybe, but what’s he going to say? I came over to talk about him stealing from you and things got physical. Let him call.

I’ll deal with it. Christopher never called the police. Friday afternoon, I was at work when Gerald Dean came in with her two dogs for their appointment. We got to talking while I was checking in her dogs and she asked how I was doing. I don’t know why, but I just told her. Told her I’d broken up with my boyfriend.

Told her he worked at her husband’s company. Told her his name was Christopher. She said, “Wait, Christopher?” I said, “Yeah, how did you know?” She said he’s on her husband’s team. She’s met him a few times at company events. Then I don’t know what came over me, but I just started telling her everything.

About the anniversary dinner, the wine, the stolen money. About how Christopher had been planning to leave me for months. About how he’d been seeing someone else named Ariana. Then I told her about things Christopher had said about her and her husband. I didn’t have recordings or proof, just things Nathan had mentioned to me.

How Christopher would mock her appearance to the guys at the office after she’d leave. How Christopher thought her husband was clueless and easy to manipulate. how Christopher had bragged about doing things to his boss’s food and drinks when he wasn’t looking. I didn’t know exactly what, but Christopher had implied it to his friends.

Geraldine went completely still. She said, “Christopher did what to my husband’s food?” I said, “I don’t have proof, but Nathan told me Christopher used to brag to their gym friends about messing with his boss’s food and drinks because he thought it was funny.” Geraldine looked like she was going to be sick. She said she needed to go.

She needed to talk to her husband immediately. She left without even finishing the dog’s appointment. just grabbed them and walked out. That weekend was a blur. Saturday morning, Nathan showed up at Jenna’s apartment with an envelope. He had won $200 in cash. Said he’d borrowed money from his girlfriend and his mom to get the full amount.

He handed me the envelope and said he was sorry. He didn’t know the money was stolen. He wanted nothing to do with Christopher anymore. So now I had $5,400 back. Still missing $1100, but way better than nothing. Monday morning, I got a text from Geraldine. She said her husband had called Christopher into a meeting Friday afternoon.

Christopher denied everything. Said I was lying. Said I was a bitter ex making up stories. But Geraldine’s husband didn’t believe him. He said the stories were too specific, too detailed, and matched up with concerns he’d had about Christopher’s behavior for months. Christopher was fired, not for provable theft or assault, but for conduct unbecoming and loss of trust.

Geraldine said her husband felt physically ill thinking about what Christopher might have done to his food over the months. Then Christopher started blowing up my phone, saying Billy assaulted him and he was pressing charges, saying I’d lied to his boss and got him fired, saying I’d ruined his life. I didn’t respond to any of it.

Wednesday, Franklin from the leasing office called me. Said Christopher had contacted him saying he’d be moving out by the end of the month. Said Christopher claimed he couldn’t afford the apartment anymore without his job. Franklin asked if I’d be taking over the full lease, and I said yes, absolutely. The next two weeks were tense.

I was terrified Christopher would actually press charges against Billy, but he never did. Benjamin said Christopher probably realized that pressing assault charges would open him up to me pressing theft charges and it would all come out about the money and the joint account and how he’d planned the whole thing. Christopher moved out the last week of November.

Billy drove back up to Milwaukee to be there when it happened just to make sure there was no drama. Christopher had a black eye that had faded to yellow green and a still swollen nose. He wouldn’t even look at Billy, just packed his stuff and left. I’m writing this from my apartment. My name is the only one on the lease now.

I got $5 $400 of my $6,500 back. I’m still missing $1 to $100 and I’ll probably never see it. But honestly, I don’t even care anymore. Some people might say Billy went too far. That violence isn’t the answer. That we should have done everything legally through the courts. But you know what? The courts would have taken 6 months and cost thousands in legal fees and I might not have gotten anything back.

Billy took one afternoon and got me $4,200 back immediately. Nathan gave me another $1,200 because Billy scared him into it. I’m back in my apartment months earlier than I would have been through legal channels. Yeah, Christopher has a black eye and a broken nose. And honestly, he earned it. He poured wine on my head in front of his friends. He stole from me.

He planned the whole thing for months. He deserved every second of what Billy did to him.