I’ve been living with my boyfriend for three years. Before that, we spent a year together without sharing a home.
I never imagined I’d find myself in a situation like this.
But everything changed twenty days ago — the day my mother passed away and I inherited her house by the sea.
It’s a large place. A pool. A gazebo. Several bedrooms. A big yard.
I’m an only child. No siblings. No close relatives.
Legally and emotionally, that house is the only thing my mother left me.
“Now That We Have a House…”
My boyfriend and I currently live in a rented apartment in the city, about three hours from the coast.
And starting from the very day of the funeral, something about him shifted.
“Now that we have a house…”
“When we move there…”
“Finally, our own place.”
Every time he said it, I froze.
He spoke as if the house belonged to both of us — even though he knows perfectly well that it’s my inheritance. My property. My mother’s legacy.
What I Knew I Wanted
From the beginning, I was clear with myself.
I want to rent the house out short-term as a tourist property. The area is highly profitable. It would give me stable income, financial security, and a long-term project.
When I told him, he exploded.
He said my idea was “selfish.”
That I was thinking only about myself instead of “our future.”
That if we moved there, we’d save rent and “build something together.”
He spoke as if I owed him access to what I inherited.
Plans I Was Never Asked About
What scared me most was how he started making plans for my house without asking me at all.
His friends could come on weekends.
His family could vacation there.
He’d build a barbecue area “for everyone.”
All of this — without a single conversation with me.
As if I were just a decorative detail in my own story.
That’s when an internal alarm went off.
This wasn’t the first time he’d tried to interfere in decisions that were mine alone.
But this time, it crossed a line.
The Argument That Changed How I See Him
Yesterday, we had a serious fight.
I told him clearly: the house is mine. I decide what happens with it. And I want to turn it into a business.
Instead of understanding me, he said that if I wasn’t thinking about him, then there was no point in making life plans together.
I replied that the house is not a “life plan.”
It’s my mother’s inheritance.
His answer?
“Oh, so you always put your family before me.”
What He Never Asked
Today I watched him walk around the apartment repeating:
“It’s not fair that you don’t want us to live in our home.”
But what feels unfair to me is something else entirely.
He never asked:
If I’m ready to move to that place emotionally.
If I can live in the house where my mother spent her final days.
If I want to leave my city.
If I can quit my job.
If I’m even done grieving.
He only thought about what he wants.
The Question I Can’t Ignore
That’s why I’m writing this.
I don’t know if I’m overreacting — or if this is a very clear sign that I shouldn’t continue this relationship.
But one thing is certain:
Someone who truly loves you doesn’t try to claim what you inherited while you’re still mourning.
And that realization… changed everything.