My Cheap Boyfriend Paid The Price
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Summary
Dating Jack for seven years meant living by his rules.
Everything was split 50/50. Dinner, utilities, rent—even Valentine's Day gifts had to be balanced down to the penny against the receipt.
If he bought me a forty-dollar lipstick, I had to find a tie that cost exactly forty dollars to give him in return. If there was a two-dollar difference, he’d Venmo me the balance with the memo: "Adjustment."
My friends used to joke that my boyfriend was a walking spreadsheet. For seven years, I defended him: "That’s just who he is. He’s fair to everyone."





