My Ex's Lottery Ticket Won Five Million

Mike dumped all the things I'd given him outside my door.

I didn't even look at them; I just handed them over to the recycling lady.

She thanked me over and over.

I smiled and said, "These are just junk. If you want them, they're yours."

Mike's face darkened. As soon as the lady left, he demanded his stuff back.

I pointed to the worn-out box in the corner.

He crouched down and started digging through it. "Where's the lottery ticket? The one I gave you?" he asked, his eyes wide with panic.

I pulled a ticket from my pocket and tossed it to him.

He looked at it and immediately protested, "Shirley, this isn't the right number! You promised to return everything! Where's your honesty?"

"Aren't they all just lottery tickets? What's the difference?" I replied.

He lost it and shouted, "That ticket's different! It was a winner! I paid for it, so the money is mine! Give it back!"

Mike had always acted cool and calm. But now, over a lottery ticket, he was going nuts.

I calmly told him that legally, once he gave me the ticket, it was mine. Plus, I picked the numbers—he only put in two bucks.

"If you don't like it, feel free to sue me or talk to a lawyer."

Before he could react, I went inside and locked the door. He kept banging on it, but I threatened to call the cops, and he finally left.

I had just settled in at work when Mike burst in.

After last night's mess, I thought he'd come to cause more trouble. I was about to call security when he dropped to his knees.

"Baby, I'm sorry. I was wrong before. Please don't leave me," he begged, looking sincere.

"Yes, I was cheap and didn't buy you nice things. But I was saving for our future!"

"I'm serious about marrying you, and I wanted to save every penny for our life together. I thought you'd understand, but I didn't know you'd be so upset."

"Baby, I promise I'll be more generous from now on. I'll buy you gifts, give you spending money—please don't break up with me!"

He hadn't closed the door, so everyone at work could hear his dramatic plea.

I stood up and spoke loudly, making sure everyone heard.

"For my birthday, you gave me two bucks, then took another woman out for dinner and flowers. Why would I stay with you?"

"You couldn't spend on me because I wasn't good enough. Now that you've found someone who meets your standards, go be with her and leave me alone."

My coworkers started whispering, hearing what I said.

Mike ran over and tried to hug me. "Baby, you got it all wrong! The woman you saw that day—she's actually my cousin!"

—-

After I turned down Mike's attempt to reconcile, I found myself ostracized by my coworkers.

Thanks to Mike's popularity at the company, everyone easily believed his lies.

My colleagues praised Mike as if he were perfect, saying I was being unreasonable and ungrateful, quick to label him unfairly.

They reframed his stinginess as being good with money.

They even said Mike was their ideal marriage material, and if I broke his heart, they'd never let me hear the end of it.

I didn't care.

I started dressing up, changing my outfit every day and wearing jewelry.

When I was with Mike, he hated it most when I cared about my appearance, calling it a sign of vanity.

He'd tell me not to buy new clothes, saying two outfits to rotate were enough as long as they looked proper. He thought jewelry was useless.

He wouldn't let me wear makeup either, claiming he preferred my bare face.

He wanted me to save money for our future family.

I had to report to him before spending even a penny on myself.