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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.”

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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.”

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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.”

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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.”

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“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.

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“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.

Joan Collins Turns 91: Photos of Her Transforming Appearance through the Years

Her childhood was unconventional as she grew up during the Blitz period. Years later, Joan thought it would be great to do a film about growing up with her sister during this era but her dream hasn’t come to fruition.

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Even so, the actress said that as the war continued, she was just a child, unaware of the bombings. She would collect fragments of debris from the streets and store them in her cigar box each evening.

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She narrated, “We would draw silly pictures of Hitler. We were evacuated 10 or 12 times. We would be in the tube stations, and people would be playing their harmonicas and singing.”

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Despite the chaos, Joan Collins, who deeply loved her Anglican Briton mother, realized that she did not want to live the same life her mom lived. “Mummy was the 1950s housewife, very sweet and very docile,” she explained.
The actress had previously said that her mom, who died at the age of 52, died very young because she never spoke back to her husband.

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oan also shared that “My father never held back. I saw him as a figure to look up to more than my mother. I loved her to death but I considered her to be weak and I hated all the clothes she wore.”
The actress’s mother consistently wore girdles, suspenders, stockings, tight bras, underpinnings, and corsets, which Joan disliked.

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Joan, who took great care in her appearance, was voted the most beautiful girl in England by a photographers’ association when she was 18. The newspapers asked her dad what he thought about her daughter’s position, he replied, “I’m amazed. She’s a nice-enough-looking girl. Nothing special.”

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At this point, Joan had departed from the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art (RADA), developed a passion for French existentialism, admired the singer Juliette Gréco, and dreamed of becoming a celebrated stage actress.

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The focus on her appearance was even more as her film career progressed. Joan disclosed that in Hollywood, she faced daily verbal abuse.
She recounted how the makeup department gave her cruel nicknames, such as “Moonface” due to her baby fat and “Scrawny Legs” because of her thin legs. She remembered the department as a large group of women who were particularly harsh and unkind to her.

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In 1955, when Joan was 22, she was cast in the biopic about Evelyn Nesbit “The Girl in the Red Velvet Swing.” Evelyn was considered the most beautiful girl in New York and Joan was to play her.

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So, one day, Joan who was still in the Juliette Gréco character and thus had no makeup and was in jeans with scruffy hair, ran into her director Richard Fleischer. Richard told her, “Oh my God, I cannot look at you – you are so ugly. You cannot go around like that – put some makeup on, get your hair done, get a proper dress.”

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Just like her career, Joan’s personal life also had its ups and downs. When she was 17, still a virgin, the actress went on a date with actor Maxwell Reed, aged 31. He spiked her rum and coke and raped her.

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“I was 17, but I was the equivalent mentally of 12. We did not have sex education,” she noted. Shockingly, Maxwell became the actress’s first husband. When asked why she chose to marry her rapist, she answered, “Because I come from a generation where if you’re going to have sex, you get married.”

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However, when Joan learned that Maxwell wanted to give her to older men for $12,710 a night as long as he could watch, she stood up for herself. After four years of marriage, the two divorced.

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In her 20s, Joan lived with several men, including Sydney Chaplin and Arthur Loew Jr. She also had an affair with a married man who was eight years her senior. As much as the man was handsome, witty, and fascinating, Joan said the affair was utter hell and she never engaged in one again.

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Hollywood men, including directors, also went after Joan. In her autobiography, “Behind the Shoulder Pads,” the actress revealed that she was offered the role of Cleopatra in Joseph L. Mankiewicz’s film on the condition that she got along well with Buddy Adler, the head of Fox, and the chairman of the board.

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Joan, who was disgusted by how directors and producers, who were old men, took advantage of young actresses said no as she never wanted to be a part of that. The Cleopatra role was given to Elizabeth Taylor.

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In the memoir, Joan also wrote about having an abortion when she got pregnant at 26 with her fiancé, Beatty, a 23-year-old aspiring actor. Beatty convinced Joan to abort the baby because it would derail their career. Years later, she agreed with him, noting that if he had a baby, she would have had to say goodbye to her acting career.

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Joan went on to have three kids. She had her first two, Tara and Alexander with her second husband, Anthony Newley. Her last child, Katyana, is with her second husband Ron Kass.

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The actress’s third husband was Peter Holm and she is now married to Percy Gibson. Joan announced that she was engaged to Percy in December 2001 and then the pair got married in 2002 at Claridge’s Hotel in London, in front of 175 guests.
The lovebirds, who have been together for over two decades, met when Joan was featured in a touring production of the play “Love Letters” in the US. The Peruvian-born theatre manager also helped Joan edit her novel “Star Quality.”

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Many people talked when Joan and Percy Gibson got married because he is 32 years younger than her. Joan was asked to comment on their age difference and she said, “Well, if he dies, he dies.”
In 2023, Joan gushed about her marriage saying that she had found the right man in her current husband, “Oh yes, Percy and I have been married for 21 years and it’s just marvelous.”

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Now, Joan is in her 90s but she still has the youthful charm and grace in her presence. When asked if she has had cosmetic procedures done, the actress simply said with a shrug, “If people want to think I’ve had surgery, then…”

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Joan added, “You can tell [I haven’t] because I have lines and jowls. When I see women around my age I think: ‘Oh, really? My gosh, I look quite a bit…’ I think I look pretty good!”
The movie star is also needle-phobic and just couldn’t bring herself to have cosmetic work done on her. She attributes her good look, perfect complexion, and youthfulness to staying out of the sun.
She added that her mom taught her to moisturize her skin and use night cream, something she also taught her daughters. Joan’s lovely appearance still amazes her fans.

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In April 2024, Joan enjoyed a fun photoshoot for the New York Times Fashion and Style section. She looked radiant in a white cardigan paired with an off-white cap and black trousers.

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A fan, amazed by her look, said, “You are simply iconic, dear one, and stunning ♥️♥️.” Another admirer commented, “You always look so beautiful♥️.”
When she turned 90 in 2023, a fan shared a picture of Joan taken on the streets. The actress was in a modest flower dress styled with a white coat, a sun hat, and sunglasses. The fan captioned the post, “Happiest of birthdays to Dame Joan Collins, who turns 90 but easily looks at least 20 years younger.”

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At 91, Joan Collins is content with both her personal and professional life. Retirement isn’t on her agenda, as she plans to continue working because of her passion for it.
She acknowledged that performing her one-woman show and staying in a different hotel each night was exhausting, but the enthusiastic audiences and her love for her work made it a rewarding experience.

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