My boyfriend, Rick, and I just got engaged, and he wanted to move in with me. We were excited about starting this new chapter together. But when I told the landlord, Miles, he said the rent would be double because two people would be living there, and “they have two incomes.”

“This isn’t fair!” I protested. “Why should we pay double just because my fiancé is moving in?”

The landlord shrugged. “Those are the rules. Take it or leave it.”

Rick and I thought it over and decided we couldn’t afford the new rent. So, I went back to Miles.

“We can’t pay double,” I said. “It’s too much for us.”

The landlord’s eyes narrowed. “You’re violating the house rules. You had parties and caused disturbances.”

I was shocked. “That’s not true! We never had any parties!”

But Miles was firm. “You need to move out. You have one month.”

Feeling helpless, I left. Rick and I tried to find a solution, but Miles had made up his mind. I later realized that the landlord had seen how I upgraded the apartment with the washer and dryer and decided to rent it to someone else at a higher price. It wasn’t about the rules; it was about money.

As I packed my things, I felt a mix of anger and sadness. I loved this apartment. It was my home for two years, and now I was being forced to leave because of greed. Rick tried to comfort me.

“We’ll find a better place,” he said. “Somewhere we can both be happy.”

I nodded, but it was hard to stay positive. We started looking for a new place, but nothing felt right. Everything was either too expensive or not what we wanted. The stress was getting to me.

With nowhere else to go, we moved into Rick’s apartment, but it was way too small for two people to live comfortably. Nonetheless, we made it work while we looked for another place.

I finished moving everything out of my old apartment and took my washer and dryer with me since I had bought them. Rick had a pair, but they were old and kept breaking down. I thought that would be the end of the apartment debacle.This morning, I woke up to multiple missed calls from my old landlord. I had left my phone number and new address in case any mail was delivered to my old place. I called him back, and he asked me why the washer and dryer were gone.

A washer and a dryer | Source: Pexels

He started freaking out. “I said in the ad that the place had a washer and dryer! I raised the rent because of them! The new tenants have already signed the lease, and they don’t want the place without them!”

It was early, I hadn’t had my coffee yet, and I was tired of this man. “Those appliances belong to me. I bought them. I still have the receipts and the texts from you when I moved in, explaining I was buying them myself.”

He wasn’t listening. “If you don’t bring them back, I’ll call the police!”

“Go ahead and call them,” I said, my voice shaking with anger. “See what happens.” Then I hung up.

Personally, I didn’t think I was in the wrong. I bought those appliances, and they weren’t cheap. Rick was on my side, but today, a coworker said they thought I was being an asshole for not telling Miles I was taking them. In my opinion, it should have been obvious. I paid for them, so why would I leave them behind?

The next day, the police showed up with my Miles in tow. He had followed through on his threat. I felt a mix of anger and anxiety as I let them in, shooting him a fiery glance in the process.

“What’s going on?” one of the officers asked.

“She stole from me!”

The officer silenced him with a stare.

I took a deep breath and explained everything. “This man, whose flat I rented, wants to keep my washer and dryer. I bought them myself. I have the receipts and texts acknowledging that I bought them and he knew I bought them with my own money.”

The officer nodded. “Can we see the receipts and texts?”

“Of course,” I said, handing over the documents.

The officer reviewed them and then looked back at me. “It seems like you have proof that the appliances are yours. We’ll need to take your statement.”

I nodded and told them everything that had happened, from Miles’s demands to his threats. The officers listened carefully, taking notes

After I finished, the officer said, “Thank you for your cooperation. We’ll file this report. It looks like you’re in the clear. Sir, I suggest you stop harassing this woman because you’re too cheap to buy appliances of your own. If you keep doing this, she’ll have every right to get us to show up at your doorstep. Personally, I think she has been extremely patient already.”

I felt a wave of relief wash over me. “Thank you, officers.”

The greedy little landlord scuttled out without me even asking him to leave. Seeing his red face was the best way this could have ended, honestly.

They left, and I sank onto the couch, exhausted from the ordeal. Rick sat beside me, putting his arm around my shoulders.

“You did the right thing,” he said softly. “Don’t let anyone make you feel otherwise.”

“I know,” I replied, leaning into him. “But it’s still stressful.”

We still didn’t have a nice place, but to my surprise, my work bestie had been working behind the scenes.

“You know, there’s a small house not far from here,” she told me over lunch. “It’s been empty for a while. I could give you the contact info for the owner.”

My spirits lifted a bit. “That would be amazing. Thank you so much!”

She handed me the details, and that evening, Rick and I went to see the house. It was small but charming, with a little yard that would be perfect for relaxing after work. The rent was reasonable, and the owner was kind.

“This place is perfect,” Rick said, squeezing my hand.

I smiled, feeling a glimmer of hope. “Yes, it is. Let’s make it our new home.”

“It’s only a shame that we don’t have a washer and dryer installed for you,” the owner sighed as we peeked inside the cupboards.

I glanced over at Rick and we both laughed. “Don’t worry, Lynn. We have that sorted already.”