$1,000 for a new mattress—“Because the one you bought gave him back pain.”

$100 for a meal-planning course—“Because he only learned to eat properly after meeting me.”

She even ended with: “I’ve invested in fixing him. It’s only fair you contribute.”

I was speechless. Who does this?!

At first, I drafted a furious response. Then I thought, No, this calls for something better.

“Subject: Response to Invoice for Outstanding Expenses

Dear Stephanie,

Thank you for your email—it gave me quite the laugh! However, I noticed you forgot a few expenses, so I’ve prepared my own counter-invoice:

$10,000 for managing all household responsibilities while Matt played video games for five years.

$15,000 for emotional labor—reminding him to call his mom, go to the dentist, and pay his bills.

$5,000 for lost brain cells from listening to his terrible business ideas (including an app that matched people based on their favorite pizza toppings).

Total: $30,000.

Payable in full by next Friday.

Warm regards,

Your predecessor”

I hit send. And for fun, I CC’d a few mutual friends.

Within hours, my phone blew up.

“Emma, this is legendary.”

“I’m framing this and putting it in my kitchen.”

Stephanie lost it, trying to justify herself. But the more she talked, the worse she sounded.

Eventually, Matt called. “Emma… I’m sorry. I had no idea she’d do that.”

It was the first apology I’d ever gotten from him.

“Matt,” I said, “it’s fine. Just make sure you pay that invoice.”

The cherry on top?

A few weeks later, at a party, someone asked Matt if he ever paid me back for all the emotional labor.

He turned bright red and left early.

Now, anytime Stephanie’s name comes up, someone inevitably says: “Oh, you mean the one with the bill?”

And honestly? I regret nothing.