I Walked Away—and Stopped Paying the Bills
I left that house that same day and didn’t look back.
I stopped calling.
Stopped being their 24/7 on-call handyman, chauffeur, and financial planner.
At first, they stayed quiet. I think they assumed I’d cool off and return to my “dutiful son” role. They waited two weeks before texting.
My father’s message was as cold as the paper I’d read:
“Property taxes are due. Can you send the money?”
No greeting. No concern. Just another transaction.
I texted back: “I think Eric can handle it. It’s his house now.”
The Guilt Trip Began
That’s when the real manipulation started.
Mom: “Jacob, don’t be like this. We need to talk.”
Eric even chimed in: “Dude, you’re making a big deal out of nothing. Just help them like always.”
But I didn’t budge.
Because I finally understood: They never saw me as an equal. Just a provider.
And now that I’d stopped giving, they were falling apart.
When They Showed Up at My Front Door
They didn’t stop at texts and calls.
They drove to my building in Chicago.
The front desk buzzed me: “Your parents are downstairs. They say it’s urgent.”
But now, suddenly, they needed help—and they came in person.
I went down to meet them. Mom, Dad, and of course, Eric—standing like a united front.
Mom crossed her arms, tears in her eyes. “Jacob, please. We’re a family.”
Dad tried to look authoritative. “You’re being selfish.”
Eric? He just stood there looking bored, like it was beneath him to even be involved.
I Finally Spoke My Truth
I let them talk.
And then I said what I should have said years ago.
“No. You made your choices. You gave everything to Eric. So let him take care of you now.”
Mom gasped. “We thought you’d understand.”
I nodded. “I do. I understand that I was never your son—I was your solution. And I’m done.”
Then I turned and walked back inside.
