I’m 27, and I’ve never been particularly lucky in love. Most of my dating history is made up of short connections and polite endings. So when I matched with her and everything clicked—easy conversation, shared laughs, no forcing—it felt different.
After a couple of great dates, I asked her to be my girlfriend. She said yes… and suggested I meet her family. She mentioned it would “mean a lot” if I paid for dinner. I assumed it would be her parents. No big deal.
I was wrong.
When we arrived at the restaurant, her entire extended family was already there—cousins, aunts, uncles—all staring at me like I was late to an interview. No one spoke to me. Not one question. Once seated, they ordered without hesitation: expensive steaks, seafood, bottles of wine. My girlfriend avoided my eyes.
When the bill came, my stomach dropped. $400.
She looked at me expectantly. When I said I wasn’t paying for everyone, her face hardened. The table went silent. That’s when it hit me—they hadn’t come to meet me. They came to eat.
As tension grew, the waiter discreetly slipped me a note: “She’s not who she says she is.” He later explained he’d seen this pattern before—with her.
I paid my share and quietly left.
I didn’t feel embarrassed. I felt free.
That night, I found online warnings that confirmed everything. For once, I walked away early—before it cost me more than money.
