I Stopped Being Their Cash Cow, Now They're Begging

Every month, the second my twenty-thousand-dollar salary hit my account, I kept exactly two hundred for myself.

The rest, without fail, got funneled straight into the shared account for me, my best friend, and my boyfriend.

The summer after senior year, Tristram Henson and Naomi Sullivan both graduated straight into unemployment.

I couldn't stand watching them mope around all day, so I clapped a hand to my chest and reassured them.

"Don't panic. I'll earn the money. I've got you both."

That "got you both" stretched into a full year.

For that whole year, I pulled late nights and overtime every day, scrimping on everything, wearing clothes until the edges frayed because I couldn't bring myself to replace them.

Today, I sent the transfer like always, and a nearby account's post floated to the top of my feed.

In the photo, Tristram and Naomi had their faces pressed close together.

Their private little joint account had just received twenty thousand, with a note that read: the loyal pet's monthly tribute.

Someone had commented underneath:

"Who's that? So generous to you two?"

Naomi had replied with a grinning, teeth-baring emoji.

"A dog my boyfriend and I keep."

"Faithfully hands over our living expenses every single month."

Right before those two lines popped up, I'd just swallowed a bite of the dense, unleavened roll I'd bought that morning, and it lodged in my chest, leaving it tight and aching.

Now, I turned and dropped the rest of it into the trash.

Then I opened my banking app, screenshotted every transfer, one by one, and posted them in the little group chat that belonged to the three of us.

"I won't even round it for you. Two hundred sixty thousand total."

"Three days. Pay it back."

Push an honest person far enough and they'll curse; corner a dog and it'll bite too.

——

Unfortunately, less than three seconds after I sent it, Tristram, the group admin, deleted it.

He messaged me privately.

"Whatever the issue is, don't make a scene in the group."

"Naomi's going through a rough time right now. If she sees that, she'll read too much into it."

I asked them to pay back the money, and Tristram turned around and pinned an "acting out for no reason" label on me.

I took a sip of water, forcing down the tightness lodged in my chest.

"I'm not making a scene. I'm just asking you to pay me back."

He pressed on.

"Did something happen?"

"No."

"Then why are you suddenly demanding money?"

That last line hardened all at once into an interrogation.

I leaned against the hallway wall, staring at those words, and felt the strength drain out of my whole body.

Back when I first started giving them money, Tristram used to refuse over and over.

"I should be the one earning and taking care of you. Having it the other way around, what does that even look like?"

Naomi's eyes would go red too, and she'd grip my hand as she turned it down.

"One salary supporting three people. That's too much pressure on you."

I'd shake my head right in front of them, saying it was fine, that we'd get through this rough patch.

But in the end, I was the only one killing myself to get through it.

Last month, I was in a meeting and didn't check my phone, so when my salary landed I didn't transfer it right away.

Naomi fired off twenty messages in a row.

"Ellie Swanson, isn't it about time to send this month's living expenses?"

"Why aren't you answering me?"

"Ellie, is it that you… don't want to support us anymore?"

Tristram chimed in to hurry me along too.

"Whatever you're doing, reply the second you see this."

"Where's the money? When are you sending it?"

In the end, to apologize and make up for it, I didn't keep a single cent for myself.

So now, they took the whole thing as a given.

They'd even, behind my back, gotten into something murky between them.

My phone buzzed, and a message popped up.

I opened it. Tristram had sent me five dollars.

"Use this to tide you over for now, and don't go bothering Naomi."

"You only eat two rolls a meal anyway. It won't cost you much."