My fiancé and I have been living on separate coasts for over three years. Between the pandemic, my company folding, and my fiancé not finding anything bigger than a shoebox in his area, it didn’t make any sense to sell my house. It does now. My fiancé finally got a townhouse, my new job is completely remote, and I have had offers left in my mail about the house.
My problem is that last year, I let my old college friend “Sara” and her young daughter move in with me after she separated from her dirtbag boyfriend. Sara was struggling both financially and emotionally. She couldn’t afford a place of her own and wanted to keep her daughter in the same school. Her only other option was to move back in with her racist parents (her daughter is biracial and her dad died when she was a baby). We have a legal lease, but I wanted Sara to save money to get back on her feet. The agreement was she would pay for the internet and put the rest of the “rent” in a savings account. A studio here costs $1500 per month. Sara got the entire top floor of my three-bed room house. She should have at least $20K in savings. Instead, she has $200. All this came out in a fight after I told Sara she needed to start looking for a new place since I was planning on selling “everything” at the end of August (my fiancé has much nicer furniture than me). Her lease ends in July.
Sara freaked out and asked me I how could “betray” her like this. I told her I gave her over a year to get back on her feet, but she always knew this was temporary. I get to live my own life. Then the truth came toppling out: Sara had taken on outrageous debt to pay off legal fines I didn’t know she owed, get a car note she couldn’t afford, and “help” out some friends (who can’t pay her back). We screamed at each other. I called her a complete moron, and she accused me of wanting her and her daughter to be homeless. I told her that was her fault—she was a piss poor mother to get her daughter into a position like this. Then she hit me. She didn’t make skin contact, but my glasses went askew. I left and locked myself in my bedroom. Sara kept knocking on my door and crying she was sorry until her daughter came home. We haven’t talked since, other than vague pleasantries.
My fiancé thinks I need to cut Sara a check for $5K to get them out of the house and maybe pay moving and storage costs. Rent has gone sky high in our area. Sara will not be able to afford to keep her daughter here even if give them that. And my friendship to Sara is dead—she lied to me, used me, and hit me. I am still fond of her daughter, and I feel sick about forcing her into the embrace of the family who hates half off what she is. This isn’t my fault, but is it my responsibility? What should I do?
— No Good Deed