My name is Jake, and if I had any doubts about where I stood in my family, they were erased the day I found out about the will. It wasn’t even some dramatic, sit-down moment where my parents dropped the news themselves. No, I found out entirely by accident, by sheer dumb luck.
It happened a few months ago when I was at their house, the same house I had been helping them pay for over the past five years. The mortgage, the occasional grocery runs, even fixing up things around the place, I was the one keeping it all together while my brother, Eric, did absolutely nothing. And when I say nothing, I mean nothing.
No job, no responsibilities, just lounging around waiting for life to hand him everything on a silver platter. Which, apparently, my parents were all too happy to provide. That day, I was helping my dad with some paperwork because, as usual, neither of them could be bothered to figure out how to do things themselves.
He had asked me to skin some documents for him, a bunch of legal and financial stuff, and I didn’t think twice about it, until I saw it. A folder labeled estate plan and last will and testament sitting right there in the stack. Now, I don’t normally snoop, but curiosity got the best of me.
After all, I had been the one making sure they kept a roof over their heads. It wasn’t exactly out of line to wonder how things were set up for the future. So I opened it, and that’s when I saw the words that made my stomach drop.
Everything, and I mean everything, was going to Eric. The house, their savings, their assets. Not a single mention of me, except for some generic line about loving both of their sons equally.
Yeah, sure. Equally. That’s why they made sure their golden child would inherit everything while the son actually keeping them afloat didn’t even get a footnote.
I felt like a fool. Here I was, bending over backward for them, making sure their bills got paid on time, making sure they never had to worry about food, while they sat back and planned for a future where I got absolutely nothing. And Eric? He wasn’t just lazy, he was entitled.
He never lifted a finger to help them, never contributed a dime, but he had somehow convinced them that he deserved it all. Maybe because he was the younger son, maybe because they just always babied him, maybe because he knew exactly how to manipulate them. Whatever the reason, they had made their choice.
I sat there staring at the paper, my hands shaking from a mix of rage and betrayal. How long had they planned this? Had they always intended for me to just be their free financial safety net with nothing in return? Did they ever even appreciate what I did for them? I had no idea how long I had been sitting there, but eventually, my dad noticed I wasn’t scanning anything. Hey, Jake, what’s taking so long? He asked, walking back into the room…
I didn’t even bother to hide the will, I held it up and looked him dead in the eye. So, this is how it is? I said, my voice unnervingly calm. Everything to Eric? After everything I’ve done for you? My dad’s face went pale for a second, but then he sighed, like I was some little kid throwing a tantrum.
Jake, it’s not what you think. Really? I snapped. Because it looks pretty damn clear to me.
I’ve been paying your mortgage, helping with groceries, fixing the house up while Eric does nothing, and you still decided he’s the only one who matters. Dad looked uncomfortable, but instead of actually explaining himself, he just muttered, it’s complicated. That was it.
No apology. No attempt to justify it beyond those two useless words. Just a weak excuse and an expectant look, like he was waiting for me to drop it and go back to being their personal ATM.
I should’ve walked out right then and there, but I wanted to hear it from both of them. So I called out for my mom. When she came in and saw the will in my hands, her reaction wasn’t much better.
She at least had the decency to look guilty, but the words that came out of her mouth made my blood boil. Jake, honey, you don’t need the inheritance, she said gently, like she was doing me a favor. You have a good job, you’re independent.
Eric, well, he struggles. We just want to make sure he’s taken care of. That was the moment something inside me snapped.
They weren’t even denying it. They knew exactly what they were doing, and in their minds, it was completely justified. They had spent years enabling Eric’s laziness, and now they were planning to reward it by handing him everything while I got tossed aside like an afterthought.
I took a deep breath, clenched my jaw, and set the will down on the table. Got it, I said, my voice eerily calm, glad to know where we stand. Then I turned and walked out of the house, ignoring their protest as I slammed the door behind me.
They had made their decision. Now it was time for me to make mine. I didn’t go back to their house after that.
I didn’t call. I didn’t check in. For the first time in years, I let them handle their own damn problems.
If they needed something fixed, they could figure it out. If they needed groceries, they could find their own way to the store. And most importantly, if that mortgage bill showed up, well, I wasn’t the one paying it anymore.
The silence lasted about two weeks. At first, I think they assumed I was just pouting and would come crawling back like always. Maybe they expected me to cool off and apologize for daring to question their decision.
But when the days kept passing with no word from me, and, more importantly, no financial help, you could practically feel the shift in their attitude. Then, one afternoon, my phone bust. Dad texted, the property taxes are due.
That was it. No he didn’t text, hey, how have you been? No, sorry for what happened. No, we really appreciate everything you’ve done.
Just a cold, transactional message as if I were still the walking bank they could tap into whenever they pleased. I stared at the screen for a moment, almost amused at how predictable they were. They really thought they could just demand money like nothing had happened? That I’d keep playing my part as their financial safety net, even after they made it clear I was disposable? I calmly typed back, I’m sure Eric will handle it, since the house is his and all.
It took exactly five minutes before my mom called. I let it ring. Then another text came through.
Mom texted, Jake, please don’t be like this. We need to talk. Oh, now they wanted to talk? Now that their bills were piling up and reality was finally slapping them in the face? I waited an hour before replying, there’s nothing to talk about
You made your choice. Now you can live with it. I figured that would be the end of it for the day.
I had made my stance crystal clear, and there wasn’t a single part of me that felt guilty about it. But then Eric decided to chime in. His text came in late that evening, and the second I saw his name pop up on my phone, I knew it was going to be something obnoxious.
Sure enough, when I opened it, I was greeted with pure entitlement. Eric texted, dude, why are you being such a drama queen? It’s not a big deal. Just help them out like you always do.
I nearly laughed. Not a big deal? He was really acting like I had no right to be mad about this. I typed back, nah, I think you’ve got it covered, since you’re the favorite and all.
Eric texted, oh my god, are you seriously mad about the will? Grow up, man. It’s just money. Oh, now it was just money.
Now that it was his to inherit, it suddenly didn’t matter? That hypocrisy was astounding. I shot back, then you won’t mind using some of that money to pay for the mortgage, right? Silence. A few minutes later, my mom texted me again, this time going full guilt trip mode.
Mom texted, Jake, we’re your parents. Family takes care of each other. We did so much for you growing up, and now you’re just abandoning us? I had to take a deep breath to stop myself from throwing my phone across the room.
Abandoning them? I had spent years making sure they never had to struggle, all while they coddled Eric and rewarded his laziness. And now that they finally had to deal with the consequences of their own decisions, I was the bad guy? I wasn’t falling for it. Not this time.
I responded, you made it clear I wasn’t part of the family when you left me out of the will. Now Eric can take care of you. I could imagine my mom gasping dramatically at that.
She always had a flair for acting like the victim, even when she was the one in the wrong. A few minutes later, my dad sent another text, and this one had me seething. Dad texted, we’re not asking for much.
