My Boyfriend Made Me Save Every Penny, Then Spent a Fortune on His Childhood Sweetheart

1: 1

Harvey Gilbert hated waste. He couldn't stand people who threw money around.

So for the six years we were together, I scrimped and saved and worked hard to be the woman who knew how to make a dollar stretch.

Six years on the same phone, never once replaced.

One white dress worn for three full years.

Terrified he'd call me a spendthrift.

Even when my parents traveled all that way to visit, Harvey served them nothing but the leftovers from the fridge.

"There's still plenty of this food left. Waste not, want not."

They ate those leftovers and were doubled over with cramps that same day. Two days in the hospital.

They were so wrung out they could barely stand, and still they kept coaxing me.

"Harvey's a good boy, he knows how to run a household. Don't fight over something like this."

"It's just a little stomach trouble. We'll be fine in a few days."

After they were discharged, I took them back to their hometown. And when I came back, I found out.

Harvey was throwing a lavish spread for his childhood sweetheart Carol Fox and her whole family.

Carol sat there holding the newest iPhone, three different-style designer handbags lined up beside her.

"Are these all birthday presents for me?"

When he said yes, Carol lit up and planted a kiss on his cheek.

"You're still using a phone from three years ago, but you buy me the latest model. I knew I didn't misjudge you."

Harvey smiled, indulgent. "You're worth it."

The trash can was heaped with every kind of expensive leftover, and a cake somebody had taken one bite of and tossed.

None of them thought they were wasting a thing.

That was the moment I finally understood.

It wasn't that he hated waste.

He just hated wasting resources and money on me.

1

I stood in the shadow of the entryway, forcing a bitter smile, ready to turn and leave.

My keys slipped out of my hand and clattered onto the floor.

The noise pulled every set of eyes toward me.

"Who's there?"

Harvey's voice.

"Glory, when did you get back?"

He came toward me. No surprise on his face, no fluster, only a hard knot between his brows.

As if my sudden appearance had spoiled everyone's mood.

When I didn't answer, he glanced past my shoulder.

"Where are your parents?"

"I took them home."

My voice came out worn thin. All I wanted was to go rest, but then Carol clamped a hand over her nose and let out an exaggerated groan.

"What is that smell? It's disgusting!"

"Glory, don't tell me you fell into a septic tank and marinated in it?"

Her parents behind her covered their mouths and noses too. Harvey shot me a cold look and couldn't keep his brow from creasing.

"Gloria Finch, how much of a slob are you? How many days since you showered?"

The sudden humiliation swallowed my pride, but underneath the embarrassment, what I felt more clearly was grief.

"I haven't showered in days, Harvey. Shouldn't you know why better than anyone?"

He opened his mouth to argue, then saw the exhaustion in my eyes and the words died in his throat.

My parents spent two days and two nights in the hospital because they ate Harvey's leftovers.

Harvey never showed his face. Not once.

I stayed with them the whole time. Never changed my clothes.

Last night, when I noticed my clothes had started to smell, I texted Harvey and asked him to bring me a change of clothes.

I waited two hours before a cold little reply came back.

"Can't."

"It's Carol's birthday tomorrow. I'm picking her and her parents up from the airport."

"We celebrate her birthday together every year. This year's no exception."

Maybe that was what he was thinking of now. He waved a hand, irritated.

"Stop standing there being an eyesore. Go clean yourself up."

I didn't move. I looked at the three opened designer boxes on the coffee table.

The black quilted one was the classic.

The white one was a limited-edition pearl bag.

And there was a pink crocodile-skin one, so glossy you could tell it started in the six figures.

The trash can was piled with takeout containers.

And in those containers sat all the expensive food I only ever glanced at online before scrolling past.

King crab legs from a Japanese place with the meat still on them, foie gras from a French restaurant with a single corner bitten off, tossed in.

Even a huge fondant cake, a few bites taken and the whole thing thrown away.

"Did you want some too, Glory? Shame you came too late. It's all in the trash now."

Carol smiled over at me, her voice turning sweet and petulant.

"It's Harvey's fault. I told him not to buy so much, but he insisted. Such a waste, all that food we couldn't finish."

I looked up, not following.

"If you can't finish it, you can just keep the rest."

Carol shrugged. "I've never liked leftovers, not since I was little. Doesn't matter how pricey it is. I wouldn't eat the rest even if you fed the dog with it."

"Harvey knows that about me. So the trash can was the only option."