Love on Ledger: My PhD Girlfriend Itemized Every Date

On the six-year anniversary of my relationship with my girlfriend, Sheila Loom, I buy some groceries with the intention to surprise her with a home-cooked meal. After I'm done, I head over to Sheila's place right away.

That's when the reel I was watching automatically skips to the next one. It's a live stream where people call in to discuss legal matters.

A familiar feminine voice drifts to my ears at that moment.

"My boyfriend shelled out 500 thousand dollars to put me through school. I've already paid ten thousand back to him.

"At first, I wanted to clear the debt before breaking up with him, but I don't want to wait any longer. If he insists on taking me to court after the breakup, can I still pay the debt off slowly?"

Almost immediately, comments flood into the comments section, chewing her out and calling her a heartless wench.

But the voice replies calmly, "If I truly were heartless, I wouldn't have paid him back to begin with. I no longer have feelings for him. Are you saying that I should sacrifice the rest of my life just so I can pay 500 thousand dollars back to him?"

My heart skips a beat at that moment. It's true that I've spent 500 thousand dollars putting Sheila through school over the years.

But I feel that I'm overthinking it, seeing as she's never brought up the matter of wanting to pay me back before.

After I call Sheila repeatedly for half an hour, she finally answers my latest phone call. At the same time, the woman's phone call that's connected to the live stream is cut off.

"It's my birthday today, Sheila—"

"Have you secretly come looking for me again? Didn't we agree that we'll only meet up after you've successfully gotten into college?"

I don't get to finish the rest of my sentence.

Suddenly, I catch a glimpse of the notebook sitting on the corner of Sheila's table. The first page shows "debt repayment ledger".

Some of the details are as shown.

"The SAT study materials I bought for him: 188 dollars."

"The Uber fees I've paid for him: 35 dollars."

"The cologne I've gifted him on his birthday: 380 dollars."

"Total: ten thousand dollars now paid."

Thinking of the feminine voice from the live stream earlier, my ears buzzed, a sharp, needle-like sensation spreading through them.

Even the cost of condoms was recorded as a 50-50 split in the ledger, as her reimbursements to me.

A sigh echoed through the microphone. "Can't you be a little more ambitious, Ben Hope? Do you really wish to live a life as unremarkable and ordinary as your name?

"I've bought the SAT prep materials for you. I've even highlighted all the important points. If you don't put in the work yourself, the gap between us will only continue to grow!"

My girlfriend, Sheila Loom, had always disliked how plain my name sounded. As such, she rarely called me by my full name, except for when she was particularly angry.

I took a deep breath, trying to sound calm. My voice still shook as I spoke. "Should we add the cost of you highlighting those key points to the ledger as well?"

Sheila seemed momentarily confused. "What do you mean? What ledger?"

She continued, holding back her anger, "That money you've saved up by fixing cars isn't going to be enough for me to marry you, Ben. I have a PhD. My boyfriend should at least have a bachelor's degree."

Just then, Sheila's roommate, Marilyn Rivers, walked into the room. She sized me up from head to toe as I sat there in an apron.

"Sheila's just sent me a text," Marilyn began awkwardly. "She told me not to let you into her room if I ran into you at the door."

A strange wave of shame washed over me. I stood, ready to flee.

The door lock beeped, and the door opened. My heart raced. I thought Sheila had returned.

Marilyn turned to face the visitor, her face lighting up with a smile.

"Are you here to return Sheila's study materials again? We just changed the door code. I didn't think you'd know it."

The man in gold-rimmed glasses replied nonchalantly, "Sheila told me the code as soon as you guys changed it."

I felt slightly at a loss. Earlier, I'd spent a whole hour waiting at the door because I didn't know the code to enter. I'd only managed to get in when I ran into Marilyn on her way back.

I supposed Sheila's so-called boundaries only applied to me.

The man noticed me when he turned around. He scanned me up and down as he asked, "And who might this be? Did you guys hire a cook? I thought Sheila usually cooks for herself."

Marilyn cleared her throat. She muttered awkwardly, "This is Sheila's boyfriend. His name is…"

For some reason, I couldn't bring myself to say my own name as I looked at the other man.

The man visibly stiffened before offering a perfunctory apology. "Oh, sorry. It's just that Sheila never mentioned she was seeing someone. That's why I didn't think about it like that."

He proceeded to pour me a cup of tea as though he was the man of the house.

"My name is Saul Harrison. Our department is having a get-together dinner later. Would you like to join us?"

I pushed the mug away reflexively.

"What's wrong?" Saul asked.

"Sheila is kind of a germaphobe. She never lets anyone drink from her mug."

Saul let out a laugh before picking up Sheila's mug and drinking directly from it.

"No way. I drink from her mug every time I come over. I've even broken a few of them."

I felt a bit dazed. I'd only just begun to realize how much of Saul's traces lingered in this room.