I Paid My Parents’ Mortgage for Years—Was I Wrong to React This Way?

I Paid My Parents’ Mortgage for 8 Years — Am I Wrong for What I Did When My Sister Convinced Them to Leave Her the House?

I made mortgage payments to my parents for eight years with the explicit understanding that I would receive a bigger portion upon the sale of the house. However, everything changed when my sister returned home and persuaded them to leave the house to her. I was so angry at the treachery that I took a risk that completely upended the family.

I had been the quiet pillar of our family for eight years, discreetly paying my parents’ property taxes and mortgage when they retired.

My parents had given up a lot for me and my sister, Susan, after all. They had used up all of their retirement funds to pay for us college educations. Now that I had a wonderful career thanks to my degree, it felt only right to assist them.

But we had an arrangement, so it wasn’t charity. The agreement was straightforward: I would assist build the house now, and I would receive a higher portion to compensate for my investment when it sold. Clear, simple, and equitable.

Susan then returned home after losing her job.

My initial reaction was one of pity. After all, we are family, and everyone occasionally needs a safe haven. I even assisted her in reconverting her former bedroom—now Dad’s hobby room—into a living area.

She reassured us, “It’s just temporary,” as she dragged a Louis Vuitton luggage across Mom’s just swept floors. “The tech industry is so volatile right now, but I’ve got some really promising leads.”

I promised her as I folded her pricey clothes into the wardrobe, “We’ll figure it out.” “That’s what family does.”

However, it was not long until the old patterns appeared. You see, Susan has never handled money well. She had never saved any money; she had always lived paycheck to paycheck, using it all to keep up a nice lifestyle.

I observed my sister reverting to her typical behaviors. She occasionally took on freelance work and spent all of her earnings on takeout and fancy clothing.

“Why don’t you buy groceries and cook?” I asked her once. “Your money would go a bit further.”

Susan chuckled. “Sis, Mom does that! You are aware of my lack of culinary skills.

Susan always had a new outfit, a new manicure, or a new haircut to show off when I came over for Sunday lunch.

Her words, “Don’t worry so much, Em,” would dismiss my worries. “Something always works out.”

I retorted, “That’s not how life works,” as I watched her unpack yet another shopping bag one evening. “You can’t keep spending like you still have your tech salary.”

She produced a silk blouse with the price tag still on it. “For interviews, I have to keep up a professional appearance. In addition, it was discounted.

“Was the daily sushi delivery on sale too?” I pointed to a used takeout container that was still on her dresser and inquired.

“It was for Instagram. As a glamorous tech princess, I’ve been developing my own personal brand. It’s excellent for networking and spreading my name.

“Oh? You received employment offers via Instagram, then? I inquired.

“That’s not how it works.” She looked at me as if I were the most stupid person alive. “It’s more like an online portfolio showcasing my expertise.”

I didn’t believe a word she said, but my parents? They consumed it as if it were still warm from the oven, like freshly made biscuits.

A family supper was the tipping point. Susan made a great show of ordering takeaway from a fancy Italian restaurant for all of us.

My first clue that something was wrong should have been the presence of Mom’s fine china on the table.

“We’ve got big news for you, Carla,” she said, spinning noodles around her fork.

“I’ve been speaking with Mom, Dad, and myself. We have a lot of childhood memories at this place. It is ideal for bringing up a family. We’ve decided. As she pointed to our parents and herself, she said, “… that I should stay here permanently, to keep the place in the family.”

From the other side of the table, Mom and Dad smiled at her. My stomach dropped.

“What exactly do you mean by that?” I knew the answer when I asked.

Susan remarked smugly, “Well, you’re already handling the mortgage and property taxes,” In this manner, the house remains with us indefinitely. It’s mutually beneficial.

With a clatter on exquisite porcelain that was unusually loud in the sudden silence, I put down my fork.

“We didn’t agree on that. You recall our arrangement, don’t you, Mom and Dad? Regarding my investment.”

Mom was fiddling with her napkin rather than looking into my eyes. “Sweetheart, we didn’t anticipate a problem. Family is Susan. She also calls this place home.

“And if you want, I will definitely reimburse you for the money you have paid throughout the years. Naturally, once I’m upright again,” Susan hurriedly added.

It nearly made me chuckle. This sister had previously accrued $10,000 in credit card debt during a “self-care journey” that mostly involved spa treatments and workshops on crystal healing.

The same sister who, after spending all of her stock on herself, discontinued her “business opportunity” of selling essential oils three months after borrowing money from our parents.

“No,” I firmly answered. “That’s not going to work.”

Susan yelled, “Stop being so self-centered.” “It’s within your means. Right now, some of us are having difficulties.

“Then some of us should be trying harder to find a job instead of posting sushi reviews and fashion unboxings on Instagram,” I said.

“Those build my image!” She gave me a frown. “Please understand that you have no idea what it’s like to be a woman in technology. I have to promote myself in a specific manner.

At that time, my parents urged me to be more understanding of Susan. I remained silent after that since I didn’t want things to escalate into a major argument at the dinner table.

I had already made up my mind what I would do next.

I stopped making mortgage payments the following day. My parents called me in a panic when they received the bill at the end of the month.

When they discovered what I had done, they were astounded.

“You can’t do this!” Dad implored me to see reason while Susan screamed in the background.

“I’m doing this because I have, Dad. Despite your prior agreement with me, Susan used deceit to persuade you both to give her the house, and you allowed her to do so. I’m all for providing for my family, but I refuse to be exploited.

“Ignore her. She is only bluffing. In the distance, I heard Susan yell. Carla will change her mind. She always does.

However, I didn’t. You would have thought I had lit the house on fire myself when the foreclosure notice came three months later. I realized my opportunity at that point.

I went straight to the bank since they only wanted to recover their loss. The house was legally and unquestionably mine after they were pleased to sell it to me at a reduced price.

The ensuing family gathering was explosive. I brought everyone together in the living room, where we had spent decades celebrating birthdays and opening Christmas gifts.

“You can’t do this!” Susan’s face flushed as she screamed. “This is our family home!”

I slowly looked into her eyes. Yes, and it’s mine now. You all stated that you believed it would be better if it remained in the family. You didn’t get it from me. I simply quit being used by you.

Telling my parents, “I’ll give you six months to find a smaller place,” “I’ll also assist you with moving. However, this state of affairs is no longer viable.

I offered Susan two choices: either move out or pay market-rate rent. Assuming our parents would put pressure on me to back down, she went with option three.

However, an unforeseen event occurred.

I had been observing their younger daughter’s amazing sense of entitlement, and Mom and Dad finally noticed it when they watched Susan have her tantrum.

The months that followed were tense.

Susan alternated between trying to guilt me into altering my decision and ignoring me entirely. In the meantime, Mom and Dad discovered a lovely condo with two bedrooms.

It was little but doable, and I could see how relieved they were to be debt-free.

Last but not least was Susan’s spectacular finale. She lost it all while standing in the hallway with her possessions all around her.

She yelled, “You’re heartless!” “This was what I needed! Here, I intended to raise a family.

I felt a peculiar mixture of resolution and sympathy as I gazed at my sister. “Susan, no. You needed to accept accountability for your life.

Of course, she went. What was her option? When I last heard from her, she was preparing to launch a lifestyle blog and had moved in with a buddy.

I found a trustworthy tenant and converted the basement into a separate apartment. The mortgage was more than paid off by the rental revenue, making what had begun as a heartbreaking betrayal of family into one of my best financial choices ever.