The Mistress Maxed His Black Card

As I grit my teeth and buy the last box of discounted shrimp, a young woman dressed head to toe in designer brands is picking out imported seafood beside me.

She glances at me and casually drops a king crab into my cart.

"It's the holidays. Treat yourself better," she says with a carefree smile. "I'll pay for everything you buy today."

I am shocked when I see the five-figure price tag. I quickly try to decline her by waving my hands frantically.

She pulls out a black card and shrugs. "It's fine. My sugar daddy gives me more money than I can spend. If I don't use it, he'll get mad."

I force a laugh. "Sounds like he's really generous to you."

"He's alright, I guess. I can't spend money as fast as he earns it," she says nonchalantly.

After a slight pause, she goes on, "Speaking of which, his girlfriend is pretty dumb. She works nonstop for years just to help him pay off a debt that doesn't even exist. When I say I want him to cook on New Year's Eve, he immediately ditches his girlfriend to come be with me."

I freeze for a moment. My boyfriend, Eric Sterling, is in debt.

Just as I am thinking it can't be that much of a coincidence, my phone buzzes with a message from Eric.

He texts, "Anne, the company assigned me to an extra shift tonight. I get triple the pay. Buy yourself something nice to eat. I'll be home tomorrow."

A sharp ringing filled my ears, and the world around me spun into a blur.

When I didn't reply, Eric called me.

"Anne, why aren't you saying anything?" he asked gently.

As I listened to the familiar indulgence in his voice, I couldn't help but ask, "Can you come home today? We don't need the money anymore, okay?"

He paused briefly, then let out a soft chuckle. "Do you miss me that much? After we finish paying off the debt, we'll have all the time in the world."

Someone called for him in the background, and he quickly hung up.

I stared blankly at the hundred dollars he had just sent.

Next to me, the young woman let out a helpless sigh. "My sugar daddy just transferred another hundred thousand dollars and told me to buy something to spice things up. But honestly, nothing here costs that much. I'll get you a few outfits with the rest."

Before I could even respond, Susan Winslow had taken my hand, settled the bill at the supermarket, and ushered me into a high-end boutique.

As I stared at the string of numbers on the tags, I couldn't help but let out a bitter laugh.

After college, Eric's startup had collapsed. He was buried under debt and sank into a deep depression, and I worked multiple jobs every day just to see a spark of life return to his eyes.

For five long years, I had scrimped and survived on