It started like something out of a carefully curated romance, all soft lighting and practiced charm, until the bill arrived and shattered the illusion. Line by line, from dinner and flowers to a chilling charge for so-called “emotional labor,” the truth surfaced: this wasn’t generosity, it was a ledger of expectations. Friends helped turn the tables with a playful mock invoice, and when his mask slipped, the anger and blame that followed exposed just how da frag… Continues…
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