Chapter 1 After getting my year-end bonus, I bought my grad student boyfriend a pair of limited-edition Jordans. I didn't expect to see them listed on Facebook Marketplace the very next day for twenty percent of the price. The box wasn't even opened. I bought them immediately. After confirming the pickup, I called my boyfriend. "Babe, do you like the little surprise I got you?" Brad sounded confused. "What surprise?" I smiled, feigning disappointment. "I hid a vintage Patek Philippe watch inside the shoe box. It cost over seventy thousand dollars. You didn't see it?" ... I was scrolling through Marketplace over the weekend when I saw a local listing. [Limited Edition Jordans, Size 10.5, Brand New in Box. Urgent Sale! Only $300!] I stared at the text, frozen. I had just bought these shoes two days ago. Same style, same size. Because they were limited edition and a rare size, I stayed up for three nights in a row to snag them on the drop. I spent over a grand to get them. Maybe they were fakes? I tapped on the post and swiped through the photos. I stopped cold when I saw the wrapping paper around the shoe box. It was matte grey with subtle silver embossing. Exactly what I had chosen. The standard shipping box was too plain, so I had gone to two different boutiques to find this specific wrapping paper. I picked the understated grey because I was afraid Brad would think it was too flashy. I told myself it might be a coincidence, but my fingertips were turning ice cold. I clicked on the seller's profile. The location was right here in Chicago. I sat in silence for a moment, then hit the "Message" button. "Hi, are these still available? Are they authentic? Why so cheap?" The reply was instant. "Don't worry, they're 100% real. Shipped directly from the flagship store. I haven't even taken the wrapping off." Then, he sent a screenshot of the tracking info. Receiver: Brad. Sender: My Amazon account name. I almost dropped my phone. The seller was definitely my boyfriend, Brad. I had sent him that exact tracking screenshot myself. My fingers went stiff. I took a deep breath and clicked on his seller profile, scrolling down. We'd been together for six months. Almost everything I had given him was listed there. The noise-canceling headphones I gave him for our one-month anniversary. Listed for $150. The gaming console for our 100-day anniversary. Listed for $250. The latest iPad Pro I bought him recently because he said he needed it for research. Listed for $600. All marked as "Sold." And a scarf. I had knitted it myself last winter. My fingers had blistered from the needles. He had hugged me then, swearing he'd wear it forever. Now it was listed for $10. The description read: Gift from a friend. Not my style. Just sitting around. I stared at those words, nausea rising in my throat. Since we started dating, Brad asked for gifts constantly. There was always a reason. One-month anniversary, 100 days, his birthday, his thesis proposal getting approved... I bought something every time. I've been working for two years; he's still in grad school. I figured he had no income, so I tried to spare him any expense. So even when his return gifts were just cheap snack boxes or freebies he got from online promos, I never said anything. I thought I was being understanding. Now I see it. To him, I was just an ATM. A new message popped up. "Hey beautiful, you still interested? If you're serious, I can lower the price a bit. I can ship it out today." Chapter 2 I stared at the message, a mix of emotions churning in my gut. Should I expose him right now, break up, and tell him to get lost? No, that would be letting him off too easy. After thinking for a moment, I backed out of the chat and changed the shipping address to my best friend Sarah's apartment complex. Once I confirmed everything, I clicked "Buy Now." The moment the payment went through, a new message popped up. "Thanks for the quick payment! I see you're local. I'll Uber Connect it to you right now! Please confirm receipt as soon as you get it, I really need the cash!" I stared at the text and replied: "Sure, send it." An hour later, I was holding the package at Sarah's place. The shoe box was pristine. The seal was unbroken. The gift card I had specifically asked the brand to include was still tucked into the side slit. He hadn't even opened it. "Aren't those the shoes you gave Brad?" Sarah frowned, leaning in. "What's going on?" I handed her my phone and let her scroll through the Marketplace history herself. Sarah flipped through a couple of pages, her face getting colder by the second. "That scumbag!" she hissed. "What are you gonna do? March over to campus and slap him?" I shook my head. "That's boring." If he dares to cash out on me, I'm going to make sure he loses everything. Just then, another notification popped up from the app. "Hey, the driver says it was delivered. Could you confirm receipt on the app? I really need the money urgently. Trying to buy a birthday gift for my girlfriend." I froze. Girlfriend? My birthday is in October. It's March. Which girlfriend is he buying a gift for? Sarah saw it too and let out a cold laugh. "Looks like this piece of trash isn't just using you for money, he's cheating too! Unbelievable." I didn't say a word. I clicked "Confirm Receipt." The second the money transferred, I picked up a utility knife from Sarah's counter. I gently sliced a cut across the outer wrapping of the shoe box. I took a photo and sent it to Brad's seller account. "Hi, I just started opening the package and noticed a tear here." Brad exploded immediately. "No way, lady! It was perfect when I gave it to the driver! Not a scratch on the packaging! You did that yourself!" "You didn't check it upon delivery. You already signed for it and now you're claiming damage? Who knows if you cut it yourself trying to get a refund? No way!" "You already confirmed the receipt! Whether it's broken or not has nothing to do with me now! Don't try to scam me!" Before I could reply, he blocked me. I smiled. That was exactly the guarantee I was waiting for. Whether it's broken or not has nothing to do with him. I switched to iMessage and called Brad immediately. He picked up, his voice cheerful. "Hey babe, what's up? Miss me?" I replied, "Yeah. Just wanted to ask, did you get the shoes? Do they fit?" Silence on the other end for a split second. "I got them," he said, sounding slightly unnatural. "They fit great. But honestly, babe... I don't really like them." "Oh? Why not?" "I'm a second-year grad student. I'm about to start interviewing for internships. Wearing thousand-dollar sneakers feels a bit... juvenile." He paused, softening his tone deliberately. "I know you meant well, but I need a mature, professional image right now. These shoes just don't suit me." I curled my lip. "Is that so? Then return them. The official site has a 7-day return policy. As long as you haven't worn them outside, you can return them. They cost over a grand. Return them and I'll get you something more mature." Chapter 3 "Don't!" he interrupted sharply. "But didn't you say you didn't like them?" "I... I actually wore them outside already," he said, speaking faster. "There's dirt on the soles, and I threw the box away. Definitely can't return them." "Oh," I drawled. "Never mind then. But do you really think they're childish?" "Yeah," his tone returned to that calm, almost lecturing vibe. "Chloe, don't buy me stuff like this anymore. I won't have many chances to wear it. I'm about to start my internship. If you really want to get me something, buy something practical." "Like what?" "Like a watch, or the new iPhone. That fits my status better. It looks good when I meet clients." I gripped my phone so hard my knuckles turned white. He hasn't even graduated, and he's talking to me about status. No wonder he thought the shoes were childish. He was setting the stage for this. I suddenly remembered when I sent him the order screenshot three days ago, he just replied with "Cool." I thought he was busy. I didn't expect him to be so disappointed he couldn't even fake enthusiasm. "You're right," I said slowly. "I agree. You're starting your career; you need to look the part." Brad sounded thrilled. "Right? I knew you'd understand! Actually, I saw a Longines watch, it's only about two grand, if you..." I cut him off. "That's why I hid a watch in the shoe box. A vintage Patek Philippe. You didn't see it?" Dead silence on the other end. I could only hear his breathing getting heavier. A few seconds later, Brad's voice cracked. "What?" "A Patek Philippe," I said innocently. "It's at the very bottom of the box, wrapped in velvet. You didn't open it? There's a handwritten letter from me in there too." "I..." He stammered. "You put a watch inside the shoe box?" "Yeah," I sighed. "If I knew you didn't like the shoes, I would have just given you the watch. That thing was so expensive. My heart hurt when I swiped the card." I heard a dull thud on the other end, like a fist hitting a table. Then, a girl's lowered, whiny voice: "What are you doing? Why are you mad..." Brad lowered his voice too, sounding frantic. "Because you wanted that bag! How else could I sell the shoes so fast?! This is a disaster! We lost big time!" The girl scoffed. "I told you they were limited edition. The price would go up if you held them. You're the one who insisted on selling..." "If I didn't sell them now, how would I get them in time for your birthday?!" I pretended not to hear their whispers and asked with concern: "Brad? Are you okay?" "Nothing," his voice was dry. "Chloe, did you just say... how much was that watch?" "Over seventy thousand," I said casually. "I was going to buy a new car, but I thought you needed a good watch for your interviews more. So I bought it." "Seventy thousand?" His voice started to tremble. "Where did you get that kind of money?" "Year-end bonus," I said, sounding aggrieved. "My project did really well this year. I got an eighty-five thousand dollar bonus. I spent almost all of it on your watch." "You..." He gasped. "Why didn't you tell me earlier?!" "I wanted it to be a surprise." I paused, then injected panic into my voice. "Wait, why are you asking like that? Is the watch missing?" "I... might have missed it..." He was rambling now. "I haven't looked at the box closely..." "Go look for it!" I shouted. "It's a classic model. Even second-hand, it's worth forty or fifty grand! If it's lost, I'm going to die!" I sent Brad a photo of the watch and the receipt from the boutique. "Look, this style suits you perfectly. It's a bit mature, but you can wear it for years." Chapter 4 Brad didn't speak. I could only hear his heavy breathing and the faint sound of the girl trying to comfort him in the background. After a long while, he squeezed out a sentence in a hoarse voice: "Chloe, something urgent came up. I have to go..." The moment he hung up, a notification popped up on my Marketplace app. "Hey! Are you there?! Urgent!" "Do you still have the shoes you just bought from me? Don't open them! I'll buy them back! $500? $1000? Whatever!" "Please!" I typed back slowly: "Just finished dinner. Was about to open them. What's up?" He replied instantly: "Don't open it! There's something really important in the box!" "What is it?" He typed for a long time, the dots dancing, before sending: "Actually, these shoes were a New Year's gift from my girlfriend. There's a handwritten letter inside. It's not worth money, but it means a lot to me. If she finds out I sold the shoes and the letter, she'll break up with me. Please, have a heart. Sell them back to me. I'll pay $2000. Okay?" I stared at the words "handwritten letter" and laughed. First it was a gift from a friend, now it's a girlfriend. Lying without blinking. Clearly not his first rodeo. I deliberately didn't reply. He panicked. "Why are you like this? I said I'd pay extra!" "Give me your address, I'll come pick it up right now!" "If you don't reply, I'm calling the police!" I took a screenshot of our chat where he said “Whether it's broken or not has nothing to do with me” and sent it to him. "Police? You said it yourself, once it's sold, it's not your problem! What, changing your mind now? Selling a gift your girlfriend gave you... you must be desperate for cash. I feel sorry for her!!" The typing indicator flashed for ages. Finally, he blurted out: "How much do you want to give it back?" I thought for a moment and typed a number: "$5,000." I expected him to curse me out and haggle. Instead, he agreed instantly. "Fine! Five grand! Done!" I raised an eyebrow. Seems a seventy-thousand-dollar watch is worth the investment. I reposted the listing. Brad bought it instantly. After paying, he sent a flurry of messages. "Use Uber Connect! I'll pay for the ride! Hurry!" "Pack it well! Don't let it get damaged!" I had Sarah's family driver call a courier. In front of the courier, I put the shoe box back into a bag and sealed it. I recorded the whole process and sent it to Brad. "Sent. Remember to confirm receipt when you get it." He replied, "Ok." After the courier left, I switched back to text messages and messaged Brad: "Babe, did you find the watch?" "Do you like the style? Should we exchange it for something else?" "Why aren't you answering? Are you busy?" He didn't reply to a single one. An hour later, the app showed delivered. A notification popped up: "Transaction Successful." Almost simultaneously, Brad's text came through: "Babe, I found the watch! It's beautiful! Suits me perfectly! Thank you! Love you!" I smiled. He probably hadn't opened the box yet and just wanted to stall me. Unfortunately, his peace only lasted ten seconds. Ten seconds later, my Marketplace inbox exploded.
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