Excitement for their weekend getaway turned into frustration as Sarah’s friends dodged paying their share of the $2,000 cabin rental. Little did they know, she had a plan to make sure they didn’t get away with it.
Every year, my friends and I plan a girls’ weekend getaway. We take turns organizing, and this year, it was miy turn! I was excited to find the perfect spot: a cozy cabin nestled right on a sparkling lake.
We all squealed with delight when I sent the pictures.
A woman using her phone | Source: Pexels
The place looked like it came straight out of a magazine. It had a cozy cabin with a fireplace, stunning views of the lake, and even a hot tub.
The total cost was $2,000 for the three-night stay, which amounted to a very reasonable $250 each for our group of eight.
“Since I went ahead and booked the cabin, I covered the upfront cost,” I told my friends. “But to make things easier, I’d appreciate it if you could all pay me back before the trip. Does that work for everyone?”
A woman sitting in a living room | Source: Midjourney
“Sounds perfect, Sarah!” Mary chimed in first. “Thanks for taking care of that.”
“Absolutely, no problem at all,” echoed Ella.
“Great, that works for me too!” chimed in Brittany.
One by one, everyone around the table agreed.
“Yep, sounds good”
“No worries, I can do that.”
The confirmations rolled in. It seemed everyone was happy to handle their share and promised to pay me before the trip started.
Easy peasy, right?
Wrong.
Close-up of a woman’s face | Source: Midjourney
As the trip approached, the easy peasy turned into oh-so-frustrating.
First, it was Mary. “Hey Sarah,” she chirped, “my car needs new brakes, so I might be a little late on my payment. I’ll get it to you next week.”
A week later, it was Brittany’s turn. “Ugh, student loans are killing me this month. Can I hold off until next payday?”
“I just need to wait until my next paycheck,” Melissa told me.
Weeks went by, and as I reminded them to pay back, they came up with more excuses.
Close-up of a phone in a woman’s hands | Source: Pexels
Each excuse was new and none of them overlapped. It seemed like they were together in this.
Then came the radio silence. Nada. No texts, no calls, nothing from Ella, Dana, or even reliable old Lisa.
By the week before the trip, I was out $2,000 and feeling completely used.
The same people I called my “friends” had indirectly refused to pay me back. The people I trusted the most had suddenly decided to team up against me.
Why were they doing this?
A serious woman | Source: Midjourney
Had I done something wrong? Or was this an attempt to see how I would react to such a tricky situation? I didn’t know what it was, but it was making me super angry.
I knew I had to do something drastic, something that would make them understand I wasn’t a doormat.
As a result, I decided it was time to teach them a lesson they wouldn’t forget. Now, I’m not one for confrontation, but this was ridiculous.
The night before the trip, I took a deep breath and picked up my phone to execute the first step of my plan.
A woman using her phone | Source: Midjourney
I sent a group text, bubbling over with fake excitement. “Can’t wait to see you all at the cabin tomorrow! Gonna be the perfect weekend getaway!”
Little did they know, I had a devious plan brewing
The next morning, I woke up extra early and hopped out of my bed. Throwing on clothes, I raced out the door, eager to transform the cabin into our own little haven.
At the grocery store, I pushed my cart down the aisles.
A grocery cart filled with goods | Source: Pexels
A giddy smile appeared on my face as I filled it with fresh fruit, cheese, and enough snacks to satisfy an army. I even got the best selection of wine and juices. I wanted to make sure my friends were well-fed and taken care of.
After paying for the snacks and drinks, I got back into my car and drove towards the cabin. It was even more beautiful in person, the sunlight glinting off the lake like a million diamonds.
I stocked the fridge with everything that I had bought.
A woman putting something in the fridge | Source: Pexels
I even prepped a bonfire for that night, complete with cozy blankets and marshmallows.
The place looked perfect. I knew my friends would have the best time of their lives here.
But here’s the catch: I took the keys and the garage door opener with me when I left for an “errand.”
Before locking the cabin, I texted all my friends that I was out for an urgent task and would make it there by the time they arrived. They trusted me, just like I did when I asked them to pay me back.
However, they broke my trust, and so did I.
A woman holding a key | Source: Midjourney
If they wanted to have a good time in the cabin, they had to follow my rules. They had to earn their weekend getaway.
I wasn’t going to let them have a good time when all they did was ignore my texts and calls.
By lunchtime, my phone started blowing up. Frantic texts and calls poured in from my friends.
“Hey, Sarah, we’re here at the cabin, but the doors are locked!” Ella said.
“Did you forget something?” Mary asked.
A woman holding her phone | Source: Pexels
I kept my cool, replying with a simple, “Oh no! So sorry, guys. Must have left the keys at home. But hey, the good news is I’m on my way back now!”
Was I on my way back? No!
I was sitting at a nearby cafe, sipping on my favorite iced latte. I enjoyed reading their texts as they reached the cabin one after the other.
After I sent the last message, the frequency of their texts dropped. They felt relieved I was on my way back, but the truth was entirely different.
A woman in a coffee shop | Source: Midjourney
As their short-lived relief faded, they started calling and texting me again. This time, their messages were way more desperate. Some of my friends were angry, while others were struggling not to lose their temper.
“How can you be so forgetful, Sarah?” Lisa asked.
“I can’t believe you’re making us all wait like this!” Dana said. “I thought this was supposed to be a fun trip.”
Finally, I decided to drop the bomb.
A woman looking outside a window in a coffee shop | Source: Midjourney
I sent a calm message: “Look, I’ll be happy to come back and let you all in, but only once everyone has sent over their share of the rental cost.”
Silence.
Then, a flurry of activity.
Apparently, the prospect of a luxurious weekend getaway suddenly trumped car troubles, student loans, and all the other excuses they’d cooked up.
My phone buzzed with Venmo, PayPal, and Zelle notifications as payments started rolling in.
Within an hour, every penny was accounted for.
Close-up shot of a phone | Source: Pexels
“You guys could have done this before!” I said to myself before grabbing the keys and heading back to the cabin.
Their eyes lit up as soon as they saw my car. Some walked toward me, others to the door.
“Sarah! Finally!” Mary exclaimed, relief evident in her voice.
I stepped out of the car, keys in hand. “Oh, so now I’m ‘finally’ here? How convenient,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
The group fell silent, guilt spreading across their faces.
A serious woman | Source: Pexels
“Look, I’m sorry,” Brittany started. “But you have to understand, I really—”
I cut her off. “No, Brittany. You all made excuses. I trusted you, and you took advantage of that.”
Lisa stepped forward, trying to mediate. “Sarah, we messed up. But can’t we just put this behind us and enjoy the weekend?”
“Enjoy the weekend?” I scoffed. “After you all made me feel like a fool? After I had to practically blackmail you to get my money back?”
“We didn’t mean to hurt you,” Ella said softly. “We just didn’t realize—”
A woman speaking to her friend | Source: Midjourney
“Didn’t realize what? That $2,000 is a lot of money? That friendships are built on trust and respect?”
A tense silence fell over the group. For a moment, I thought confronting them was a bad idea. I thought they’d say they didn’t want to be there anymore.
I stood my ground despite the fear, letting the weight of my words sink in.
Finally, Mary broke the silence. She wrapped me in a giant hug.
“Sarah, I’m so sorry about the car thing. You were totally right to be mad.”
Brittany chimed in, “Yeah, me too. I’m sorry. We’re all sorry.”
A group of friends hugging | Source: Pexels
They all finally realized what they had done.
I took a deep breath, looking at each of them. “I’m glad you understand now. But remember, respect is a two-way street.”
We may not be planning any luxury cabin getaways anytime soon, but at least we’ll be doing it with a renewed sense of understanding and responsibility.
This whole experience definitely made for a memorable story, even if it wasn’t exactly the relaxing weekend I’d planned.
But hey, sometimes the best lessons come wrapped in a little frustration and a whole lot of determination.
What do you think?
A lakeside cabin | Source: Pexels
Here’s another story you might like: Eight hundred dollars plus. That’s what Jack’s “boys’ night out” bill came to, and he expected his wife, Lora, to foot it. Waitress Melanie, witnessing Lora’s despair, concocted a bold move to ensure Jack’s night didn’t end as he planned.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
My Partner Wants Half the Rent from My Dad’s Gifted House!
When my boyfriend moved in, everything felt great, until he found out I owned the house. I didn’t think it would be a big deal, but his reaction led to a fight we didn’t expect.
I was eighteen when my dad gave me the keys to my own house. It was an old two-story building that had been in our family for years. This gift meant a lot to me. We weren’t wealthy, not at all.
Dad bought the house for a great price from his grandmother’s cousin, and I knew how lucky I was. Every time I walked through the front door, I felt thankful
The house had its quirks. Each floor was like its own apartment, with separate entrances, kitchens, and bathrooms. I lived upstairs and rented the downstairs to a nice woman named Maggie.
She paid $500 a month—less than most places, but I wasn’t in it for the money. The rent just covered basic costs. I handled everything myself, which gave me a little independence.
Three months ago, my boyfriend, Jason, moved in with me. We’d been together for six months, and it made sense. His lease was ending, and my place had the space. Plus, it felt good to be building a life together.
He was easygoing about most things, and we split groceries evenly, which worked for both of us. We never really talked about finances beyond daily expenses.
He didn’t ask about rent, and I didn’t mention that I owned the house. It wasn’t that I was hiding it; it just didn’t seem important.
One night, while we were watching TV, a news story came on about rising rent prices. Jason groaned and said, “Man, landlords are the worst. They only care about money. It’s like they don’t think about people who can’t afford a place to live.”
I stayed quiet, sipping my tea, unsure of what to say. I didn’t know how to explain that I was technically a landlord. But I wasn’t like the ones he was talking about. I charged fair rent and didn’t try to take advantage of my tenant.
Jason continued, shaking his head. “It’s just wrong, you know? People shouldn’t profit from something as basic as housing.”
I nodded, trying to change the subject as soon as I could. We spent the rest of the night like usual, but his words stuck with me. What would he think if he knew I was renting out part of the house? I didn’t want to make it awkward, so I kept it to myself.
A few days later, I was cleaning the kitchen when there was a knock at the door. I wiped my hands on a towel and opened it to see Maggie looking worried.
“Hey, Maggie, everything okay?” I asked.
She frowned. “My freezer stopped working. I tried everything, but it’s just dead.”
“Oh no,” I said, stepping outside. “Let me take a look.”
I followed her downstairs to her apartment. Sure enough, the freezer was warm, and nothing seemed to be working. I sighed, knowing it was probably time to replace it.
“I’ll pay for a new one,” I said. “Just send me the receipt, and I’ll reimburse you.”
Maggie smiled, relieved. “Thanks, I really appreciate it. I’ll go shopping for one tomorrow.”
“No problem,” I replied. “I’ll make sure you get the money back quickly.”
As I headed back upstairs, I realized Jason had probably heard the whole conversation. He was sitting on the couch when I walked in, looking a bit confused.
“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 would you do that?”
I paused, unsure of how to answer. “Well, the freezer was here when she moved in, so it’s kind of my responsibility.”
He frowned. “I don’t understand. Why is that your responsibility?”
I could feel the tension rising. “Because… it’s my house. I rent it to her.”
Jason stared at me, his expression changing as he processed what I just said.
“You own this place?” His voice was sharper, more surprised than I expected.
“Yeah,” I said slowly. “I thought you knew.”
“No, I didn’t know,” he replied, his tone turning colder. “You never told me.”
“Well, it never came up,” I explained. “It’s not like I was trying to hide it.”
Jason shook his head, standing up. “I just… I can’t believe this.”
He walked over to the window, looking out as if trying to make sense of everything.
I stayed quiet, not sure what to say next.
The days after Jason found out I owned the house were tense. It wasn’t like before, where we’d laugh together while cooking or enjoy lazy evenings watching TV. He was distant and quieter, and something felt off. I didn’t want to push him, so I gave him space, hoping things would return to normal. But that didn’t happen.
One evening, I was cleaning up the kitchen when Jason walked in. He leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching me.
“Still can’t believe you never told me,” he muttered, almost to himself.
I sighed, putting down the dish towel. “Jason, I wasn’t hiding it. It just didn’t seem important. You never asked.”
“Important?” He laughed, but it wasn’t a happy sound. “You’re a landlord. That’s pretty important. Don’t you think I had a right to know?”
I opened my mouth to respond, but he cut me off.
“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 just… they take advantage of people.” His voice was tight, and he wouldn’t look at me.
“I’m not like that!” I said, stepping closer. “Maggie’s rent is fair, and I fix anything that breaks. I’m not some greedy landlord you see on TV.”
He shook his head. “But you’re still making money off someone else’s need for a home.”
I felt anger rising in my chest. “I don’t think you understand what I do. I’m not hurting anyone. I charge Maggie way less than the market rate. I take care of the place. I’m not some big landlord trying to exploit people.”
“But you still own it. And you still make money off her.”
“Yeah, to keep the house from falling apart! I’m not getting rich from this, Jason. You know that.”
He shook his head, standing up from the couch. “It’s all the same. It’s about power. You have something she needs, and you make her pay for it.”
The next morning, things came to a head. I was on the phone with Maggie, confirming she’d bought the new freezer and that I’d reimburse her. Jason walked in as I was finishing the call.
“So, you’re paying for that?” he asked, sarcasm thick in his voice.
“Yes,” I replied, keeping my tone steady. “The freezer was part of the apartment when she moved in. It’s my responsibility.”
He stared at me, frustration bubbling over. “Unbelievable.”
“Jason, I don’t know what you want from me,” I said, trying to stay calm. “What do you expect me to do?”
He folded his arms, his face hard. “I want you to stop being part of the problem. Either stop charging rent or give me half of what you’re making. If you’re gonna be a landlord, at least share the profits.”
I stared at him, stunned. “Share the profits? Jason, I’m not running a business here. The rent barely covers costs.”
“I don’t care,” he snapped. “You’re either with me, or you’re not. If you’re gonna keep profiting off people like that, then I deserve my share, too.”
Something in me broke then. “I’m not giving you half of anything. I’ve worked hard to keep this house running. If you think I’m going to start handing over money just because you don’t like how I manage it, then you’re out of your mind.”
Before I could respond, he grabbed the keys from the coffee table and threw them across the room. They hit the wall with a sharp clatter, and the next thing I knew, he swung his fist, aiming for the wall. The impact wasn’t strong enough to punch through, but it echoed in the room, sending a tremor through me.
“Fine!” he shouted, stepping back. His face was red, and he was breathing heavily. “I’m done. I’m not staying here, not with you.”
My hand shook as I reached for my phone. “Jason, stop,” I said, my voice trembling. “Just calm down.”
But he was already moving toward the door. I quickly typed a text to my dad: Please come now.
Jason didn’t turn around as he stormed out, slamming the door behind him. The house felt silent, suddenly too big and too empty. I stood there, still shaking, listening to the sound of his footsteps disappearing down the driveway.
Within minutes, I heard my dad’s car pulling up. He didn’t ask questions when he saw me on the porch, arms wrapped around myself. He just pulled me into a hug, holding me tight as I tried to catch my breath.
“He’s gone,” I whispered, still stunned by how quickly it had all fallen apart.
The next morning, I woke up to the sound of quiet knocking on my door. I still felt numb from the night before, Jason’s angry words echoing in my mind. I dragged myself to the door and opened it to see Maggie standing there with a small basket of freshly baked muffins.
“Hey, I heard about what happened,” she said softly. “I’m really sorry.”
I managed a weak smile, surprised she knew so quickly. “Thanks, Maggie. I’m okay.”
She handed me the basket. “I just wanted to bring these up. It’s nothing special, but I thought you could use something sweet.”
I took the basket, feeling warmth I hadn’t felt since Jason left. “You didn’t have to do that.
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