For three months, I thought everything was perfect.
When Jason moved in, it felt like a natural step forward in our relationship. His lease was ending, my place had plenty of space, and I loved the idea of building a future together. We split groceries, shared chores, and spent cozy evenings on the couch binge-watching our favorite shows.
But all of that changed the moment he found out I owned the house.
I was eighteen when my dad handed me the keys.
“It’s not fancy,” he had said with a grin, “but it’s ours.
The old two-story building had been in our family for years. My dad bought it for a bargain, fixed it up himself, and kept it running through sheer determination. When he gave it to me, I knew what a privilege it was.
Each floor was like its own apartment, with separate entrances, kitchens, and bathrooms. I lived upstairs, and I rented out the downstairs to a sweet older woman named Maggie.
She paid $500 a month—way below market price—but I wasn’t in it for the money. The rent covered basic upkeep, and I handled everything else myself.
I never thought owning my home would be a problem.
Until Jason made it one.
One evening, while watching the news, a segment came on about rising rent prices. Jason groaned, shaking his head.
“Man, landlords are the worst,” he muttered. “They’re all about the money. They don’t care if people can’t afford a place to live.”
I stayed quiet, focusing on my tea.
“They just sit back and rake in cash while hardworking people struggle to make ends meet,” he continued. “It’s messed up.”
I didn’t know how to respond.
Because, technically… I was a landlord.
Not the kind he was ranting about—not greedy or exploitative—but still, I rented out a space.
I didn’t want to make things awkward, so I let it slide.
But a few days later, it all came crashing down.
It started with a knock on the door.
I wiped my hands on a towel and opened it to find Maggie standing there, looking worried.
“Hey, Maggie, everything okay?”
She frowned. “My freezer stopped working. I tried everything, but it’s just dead.”
I sighed, knowing I’d probably have to replace it. “I’ll pay for a new one,” I said. “Just send me the receipt, and I’ll reimburse you.”
Maggie smiled in relief. “Thanks, I really appreciate it. I’ll go shopping for one tomorrow.”
As I headed back upstairs, I realized Jason had probably heard everything.
Sure enough, he was sitting on the couch, his expression tense.
“Everything okay with Maggie?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I said casually. “Her freezer broke, but I told her I’d cover it.”
Jason raised an eyebrow. “You’re paying for her freezer? Why?”
I paused. “Well, the freezer was here when she moved in, so it’s kind of my responsibility.”
He frowned. “I don’t get it. Why would that be your responsibility?”
I felt my stomach twist.
“Because… it’s my house,” I admitted. “I rent it out to her.”
Jason’s entire body stiffened.
“You own this place?” His voice was sharp, more surprised than I expected.
“Yeah,” I said slowly, “I thought you knew.”
His jaw clenched. “No, I didn’t know. You never told me.”
“Well, it never came up,” I explained. “It’s not like I was hiding it.”
Jason stood up, running a hand through his hair. “I just… I can’t believe this.”
His reaction sent alarm bells ringing in my head.
For the next few days, Jason was distant.
Gone were the playful evenings, the inside jokes, the easy conversations. He barely spoke to me, and when he did, it was cold.
Then, one evening, he finally spoke.
“Still can’t believe you never told me,” he muttered, arms crossed.
I sighed. “Jason, I wasn’t hiding it. It just never seemed important. You never asked.”
He let out a bitter laugh. “Important? You’re a landlord. Don’t you think I had a right to know?”
I frowned. “Jason, why does this bother you so much?”
He shook his head. “Because I thought we were on the same page. I thought we saw the world the same way, but now… now I don’t know. Landlords take advantage of people.”
I felt anger rise in my chest. “I don’t take advantage of anyone. I charge Maggie way less than market rent, and I fix anything that breaks.”
“But you still own it,” he said. “And you still make money off someone else’s need for a home.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
“Jason, I use the rent to keep the house from falling apart. I’m not getting rich off of this.”
“But you’re still benefiting,” he snapped. “And if you’re making extra money, then I deserve half.”
My heart stopped.
“Half?” I repeated.
“You heard me,” he said, folding his arms. “If I’m living here, I should get my fair share of what you’re making.”
Something in me broke then.
I took a deep breath, my voice steady. “Let me get this straight. You think I should start giving you half of Maggie’s rent? Just because we live together?”
He didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
I stared at him, the man I thought I loved, and saw him for who he really was.
He didn’t see me as a partner.
He saw me as an opportunity.
I shook my head. “I’m not giving you half of anything.”
Jason’s face twisted in anger. “So, what? You’re just going to keep profiting while I get nothing?”
I stepped forward, my voice calm but firm. “If you’re so uncomfortable with this, then maybe you shouldn’t live here.”
His eyes flashed. “You’re kicking me out?”
“No,” I said. “You’re leaving.”
Silence filled the room.
Then, in a fit of rage, he grabbed the house keys and threw them against the wall.
I flinched as they clattered to the floor.
“Fine!” he shouted, his face red. “I’m done. I’m not staying here, not with you.”
He stormed out, slamming the door behind him.
The next morning, I woke up feeling lighter.
For too long, I had ignored the red flags. But now? I was free.
A soft knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts.
I opened it to find Maggie, holding a basket of freshly baked muffins.
“I heard about what happened,” she said gently. “I’m really sorry.”
I smiled, touched by her kindness.
“Honestly?” I said. “I’m not.”
And for the first time in a long time, I meant it.
💬 What would you have done in my situation? Let me know in the comments! And don’t forget to like and share!
