He Sold My Gift, Then Cried for It

1 After getting my year-end bonus, I bought my grad student boyfriend a pair of limited-edition Air Jordans. The next day, I found them on a resale app, listed for a fifth of the price. The box was still sealed. I bought them instantly. Once they arrived, I confirmed the delivery and then dialed his number. “Hey babe, did you like the little surprise I got you?” He sounded confused. “What surprise?” I let out a small, wounded laugh. “The classic Patek Philippe watch I hid inside the shoebox. It’s worth over fifty thousand. You didn’t see it?” … I was scrolling through ReSell on a lazy weekend when a local listing caught my eye. [Limited-Edition Air Jordans, Size 11, Brand New/Unopened, Authentic! Needs to go fast! Only $400!] I stared at the screen, my mind blanking for a second. I’d just bought the exact same pair a few days ago. Same model, same size. Because they were a limited release and a rare size, I’d pulled three all-nighters camping online to snag them, paying nearly two thousand dollars. Had to be fakes, right? I clicked on the post and swiped through the photos. My breath caught when I saw the gift wrap on the shoebox. A pale grey paper with a subtle, silver-stamped pattern. It was the exact one I’d chosen. The official store packaging was too plain, so I’d gone to two different specialty shops, agonizing over the options before settling on this one. I’d picked the most understated grey I could find, worried he might think anything else was too flashy. I told myself it was just a coincidence, but a chill was already creeping up my fingers. I tapped on the seller’s profile. The IP address was in the same state. After a long moment of silence, I opened a chat with the seller. “Hi, are the sneakers still available? Are they authentic? Why are they so cheap?” A reply came back instantly. “Hey, don’t worry, they’re 100% legit. Shipped straight from the flagship store. The box hasn’t even been opened.” He followed up with a screenshot of the shipping confirmation. Recipient: Dan. The sender was my online store ID. My phone nearly slipped from my hand. The seller was my boyfriend, Dan. And that shipping screenshot? I was the one who sent it to him. My fingers felt stiff. I took a deep breath and navigated to his ReSell profile, scrolling down. In the six months we’d been together, almost everything I’d ever given him was on there. The brand-name headphones I got him for our one-month anniversary, listed for two hundred. The gaming console for our 100-day celebration, listed for four hundred. The new tablet he said he needed for his thesis research, listed for nine hundred. All of them were marked as “Sold.” And then I saw the scarf. The one I’d hand-knitted for him last winter, working until my fingers were raw and blistered. He had held me so tight when I gave it to him, promising he’d wear it forever. Now, it was listed for ten dollars, shipping included. The description read: Gift from a friend. Not my style. Unworn. I stared at those words, a wave of nausea washing over me. Looking back, the frequency with which Dan asked for gifts was absurd. And there was always a reason. Our one-month anniversary, our 100 days, his birthday, the day his thesis proposal was approved… I bought him something every single time. I had been working for two years while he was still in grad school. I figured he didn’t have an income, so I tried my best to make sure he never had to spend money on me. That’s why I never complained when his gifts to me were cheap snack boxes or little trinkets he’d won from some online referral game. I thought I was being understanding. Now I saw the truth. In his eyes, I was just an ATM. Just then, another message popped up in the chat. “Hello? You still want them? If you’re serious, I can knock a little more off the price. Can ship today.”

2 I stared at the message, a bitter mix of emotions churning inside me. Should I just confront him? Break up and tell him to get lost? No, that would be letting him off way too easy. After a moment’s thought, I closed the chat window and changed my shipping address to my best friend’s apartment complex. Double-checking the details, I hit “Buy Now.” The instant the payment went through, a new message appeared. “Awesome! I see you’re local. I’ll get a courier to bring it over right now! Please confirm the delivery as soon as you get it. I really need the cash!” I stared at his words for a second before typing back: “Fine, send it.” An hour later, I was at my best friend Sophie’s place, holding the package. The shoebox was pristine, the seal perfectly intact. The custom greeting card I’d asked the store to include was still tucked into the side. He hadn’t even bothered to open it. “Isn’t that the pair you got for Dan?” Sophie frowned, leaning in for a closer look. “What’s going on?” I handed her my phone, letting her read through the ReSell history. Her expression grew colder with every swipe. “That scumbag!” she seethed. “What are you going to do? Drive down to his campus and slap him?” I shook my head. “Where’s the fun in that?” If he wanted to cash in on my gifts, I was going to make sure he lost more than he could ever imagine. Just then, another notification popped up from ReSell. “Hey, the courier says it’s been delivered. Could you please confirm the receipt? I’m in a real hurry here, trying to get money together for my girlfriend’s birthday present.” I froze. Girlfriend? My birthday is in October. It was only March. Which girlfriend was he buying a gift for? Sophie saw the message too and scoffed. “So the jerk isn’t just using you as a piggy bank, he’s cheating on you too! Unbelievable!” I didn’t say a word. I just tapped “Confirm Receipt.” The moment the money transferred, I grabbed a small paring knife from Sophie’s fruit bowl and made a tiny, deliberate slice in the outer gift wrap. Then I took a photo and sent it to Dan’s ReSell account. “Hi, I just started opening the package and noticed the wrapping is damaged here.” Dan exploded. “What? No way, lady! It was perfect when I gave it to the courier! There wasn’t a single tear on it! You did that yourself, didn’t you?” “You didn’t check it on the spot, and now you’re claiming it’s damaged after you signed for it? Who knows if you didn’t slice it yourself? Trying to get a discount? Not happening!” “You’ve already confirmed the receipt! The condition of the item has nothing to do with me anymore! Don’t even think about trying to scam me!” And with that, before I could even reply, he blocked me. A slow smile spread across my face. That was the guarantee I was waiting for. The condition of the item has nothing to do with me anymore. I switched back to my phone app and called Dan immediately. He answered, his voice cheerful. “Hey babe, what’s up? Miss me already?” “Mhm,” I replied. “Just wanted to ask if you got the shoes. Do they fit okay?” There was a brief pause on the other end. “Yeah, I got them,” he said, his tone a little strained. “They fit great, but honey… I don’t really like them.” “Oh? Why not?” “I’m in my second year of grad school, about to start internships and look for a real job. Wearing sneakers that cost thousands of dollars just feels… a little immature.” He paused, then deliberately softened his voice. “I know you meant well, Mia, but I need to build a more professional image now. These shoes just don’t fit with that.” I felt the corner of my mouth twitch. “I see. Well, you should return them. The website has a seven-day return policy as long as they haven’t been worn. That’s almost two thousand dollars. We can get you something more professional with the refund.”

3 “Don’t!” he cut in hastily. “But you said you didn’t like them?” “I… I already wore them outside,” he said, his words tumbling out. “The soles are dirty, and I threw the box away. There’s no way they’d take them back now.” “Oh, well,” I said, drawing out the words. “I guess that’s that. But you really think they’re immature?” “Yeah,” he said, his confidence returning. He even adopted a slightly lecturing tone. “Mia, you shouldn’t buy me things like this anymore. I won’t get many chances to wear them. I’m about to start my internship. If you really want to get me something, you should get me something practical.” “Like what?” “Like a watch, or the newest iPhone. Those things fit my status. They’d look good when I’m meeting clients.” I nearly crushed my phone in my hand. A grad student who hadn’t even graduated was talking to me about status. No wonder he thought two-thousand-dollar sneakers were immature. This was what he was really after. I remembered how, three days ago, when I sent him the screenshot of the online order, all he’d replied was “k.” At the time, I thought he was just busy and didn’t have time to show excitement. Now I realized he was probably too disappointed to even pretend. “You’re right,” I said slowly. “You’re about to start your career. You should have some nice things to show for it.” Dan’s voice immediately brightened. “Right? You think so too? I was actually looking at this Longines watch, it’s about two thousand…” I cut him off. “That’s why I tucked a watch inside the shoebox. A classic Patek Philippe. Didn’t you see it?” The line went completely silent. All I could hear was his breathing, getting faster and faster. After a few seconds, Dan’s voice was barely recognizable. “What?” “A Patek Philippe,” I said, my voice dripping with innocence. “I put it at the very bottom of the box, wrapped in a velvet cloth. You didn’t open it? There was a handwritten letter from me in there, too.” “I…” He was stammering now. “You put a watch in the shoebox?” “Of course,” I sighed. “If I’d known you didn’t like the shoes, I would have just given you the watch by itself. It was so expensive, my heart ached when I bought it.” I heard a dull thud on his end, like a fist hitting a table. It was immediately followed by a girl’s whining voice, hushed and annoyed. “What’s wrong with you? Why are you freaking out…” Dan’s voice was a harsh, angry whisper. “It’s all your fault for wanting that bag! Otherwise I wouldn’t have sold the shoes so fast! Now look what happened! I’m ruined!” The girl huffed. “I told you those were limited editions! You could have waited and the price would’ve gone up. You were the one who insisted on selling them now…” “If I didn’t sell them now, how was I supposed to buy you a birthday present in time?” I pretended I hadn’t heard a thing and asked with concern, “Dan? Are you okay?” “I’m fine,” he said, his voice raw. “Mia, you said… how much was that watch?” “Around fifty-five thousand,” I said nonchalantly. “I was going to get a new car, but then I thought, you need a good watch to make an impression for your internship. So I bought it for you instead.” “Fifty-five… thousand?” His voice was trembling. “Where did you get that kind of money?” “My year-end bonus,” I said, my voice filled with faux-disappointment. “I had a great year at work, my bonus was sixty thousand. I spent almost all of it on you.” “You…” He gasped for air. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” “I wanted it to be a surprise,” I said. Then, my tone shifted to one of alarm. “Wait, why are you asking? Is the watch gone?” “I… I probably just didn’t notice,” he stammered, completely incoherent. “I haven’t really gone through the box yet…” “Well, you need to find it!” I urged him. “I bought a classic model. Even used, it’s worth over thirty grand! If it’s lost, I’ll… I’ll just die!” As I spoke, I sent him a picture of the watch and a photo of the official receipt from the boutique. “See? This model would look so good on you. It’s a bit mature, I know, but it’s a timepiece you could wear for years.”