I Loaned My Best Friend $6,400—Then Karma Delivered the Twist of a Lifetime
I always knew my best friend Kyle was a little reckless, but I never thought he’d betray me like this. I never imagined I’d give up my future to save him—only for him to vanish. But what he didn’t know was that karma doesn’t forget. She just waits… for the perfect moment.
It all started on a Tuesday night, 11:47 p.m. My phone buzzed loud enough to make me jump. Kyle’s name lit up the screen. He never called this late unless it was serious.
“Alan, man, I’m in deep trouble,” his voice cracked like broken glass.
I sat up straight. “What happened?”
“My car’s totaled,” he gasped. “Some drunk moron ran a red light and smashed into me. Insurance won’t cover it. I need $6,400 by Friday or I’m done.”
My heart sank.
“I got this new gig with a rideshare app,” he rushed on. “And I still work weekends at the warehouse. But if I don’t have a car, I’ll lose both jobs. I’m screwed, man.”
That money… it wasn’t just a number. It was my escape plan. My one-way ticket out of this basement apartment with leaky pipes and neighbors who screamed at each other at 3 a.m. It was everything I had.
“I’ll pay you back in three months. Max. I swear on my mother’s grave,” he said. “You know I’m good for it.”
Silence stretched between us like a rope about to snap.
“Please, Alan. You’re the only one I can ask.”
I stared at the ceiling. The water stain looked like it was laughing at me.
“I’ll wire it tomorrow morning,” I finally said.
“Alan, I love you, man. You’re saving my life.”
The next day, I stood in front of the bank teller like I was being sent to the electric chair.
“$6,400 to Kyle?” she asked, fingers clacking on the keyboard.
“Yes,” I nodded.
She slid the receipt over the marble counter. My new balance stared up at me like a cruel joke: $127.43
As I walked home, my phone buzzed. A text from Kyle.
“Dude, you’re a lifesaver. I love you, man. Three months, I promise.”
Back in my apartment, I listened to the drip-drip-drip into the bucket under the pipe and whispered to myself, “Three months.”
Month 1
Me: “Hey man, how’s the new job going?”
Kyle: “Good, good. Still settling in. Should have some money soon.”
Month 2
Me: “Any updates on when you might start repaying me?”
Kyle: “Still tight right now. Give me a few more weeks.”
Month 3
Me: “It’s been three months, man.”
Kyle: “I know, I know. Just had some unexpected bills. I’m working on it.”
A few weeks later
Me: “Kyle, seriously. I need to know what’s happening.”
Kyle (five hours later): “Chill out, man. You’ll get your money.”
Week 16: “Kyle?”
No reply.
I called. Straight to voicemail.
“This is Kyle. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you.”
Except he never did.
One night, I was eating cereal for dinner again when I saw his Instagram story pop up.
Blue water. White beach. A drink with a little umbrella. And the caption:
“Living my best life in Sunset Bay! Grind now, shine later 💸🔥”
My spoon fell out of my hand. Milk splashed on the table.
Grind now? He was grinding my trust into the dirt.
Then came more posts. New chrome rims. Lobster at Marino’s, the expensive Italian place. Designer sneakers that probably cost more than my rent.
I screenshot everything. Not for proof. Just to torture myself.
While I was eating instant noodles again, he was sipping champagne.
“You okay?” my coworker Jim asked.
“Worse than if someone stole my dog,” I mumbled.
Five months. Then six. Then seven.
I blocked him. I told myself to move on.
“Karma will get him,” I whispered every time I looked at my empty fridge.
But nothing happened.
Until… yesterday.
I was working at my desk when I got a bank alert:
Incoming Wire Transfer: $10,100
Sender: Kyle
I dropped my coffee. It shattered on the floor. I stared at the screen. Ten THOUSAND dollars? My hands were shaking.
Then my phone buzzed again:
“DUDE! I SENT YOU MONEY BY MISTAKE. SEND IT BACK NOW!!”
I laughed. I actually laughed.
More texts followed:
“Alan PLEASE. That was for my car payment!”
“I’m serious, send it back!”
“Don’t be petty!”
Petty? I nearly threw the phone.
I stared at the number. $10,100.
I could keep it. All of it. Move. Start fresh. Finally breathe again.
But then I saw my reflection on my dark screen—tired eyes, scruffy beard, same shirt for the third day. I wasn’t Kyle.
I opened the banking app and returned $3,600.
Exactly what he didn’t deserve. But what he owed me—with a little extra for emotional damage.
Then I typed:
“I don’t need what isn’t mine. I’m not like you. We’re even now.”
I hit send. And blocked him.
My phone rang immediately. Unknown number. Then another. And another. I blocked them all.
Next morning, our mutual friend Derek called.
“Dude, Kyle’s saying you stole his money.”
I laughed. “Of course he is. What’s he telling people?”
“That you kept his money when he sent it by accident. But get this—he told me months ago that you gave him the $6,400 as a gift.”
“A gift? Are you kidding me?”
“That’s what I said. No one’s buying his crap.”
Apparently, Kyle owed everyone money. I wasn’t the first one. But I’d be the last.
That afternoon, I finally did it—I paid the deposit for my own place. My place.
A sunny one-bedroom in Riverside Heights. No mold. No leaks. No shouting neighbors. Real walls. Real peace.
The next day, my phone rang again. Unknown number.
“Hello?”
“Alan. It’s Kyle.”
I nearly hung up.
“I’m sorry, okay?” he said quickly. “I messed up.”
“You’ve got 30 seconds.”
“I was embarrassed… about how long it was taking. Things got complicated.”
“Complicated enough to post beach pics while I was living off cereal?”
“Please, I can explain.”
“Save it. We’re done. Stay out of my life.”
I hung up. Blocked the number again.
The universe has a funny way of balancing things. It took eight months, one ‘accidental’ wire transfer, and a lot of pain—but karma finally showed up.
Kyle thought he could take my money and vanish. But he forgot something important.
Karma doesn’t wear a watch. She doesn’t text warnings. But when she shows up—she always arrives on time.
I stood by my new window, sunlight pouring in, warm on my skin.
For the first time in forever… I smiled.
And to my reflection, I whispered:
“Grind now, shine later? No, Kyle. Grind always. Shine forever. And never trust a thief with your future.”