I Booked a $2,000 Rental for a Group Trip, but No One Paid Me Back Their Share of the Cost – They Didn’t Get Away with It

Excitement for their weekend getaway turned into frustration as Sarah’s friends dodged paying their share of the $2,000 cabin rental. Little did they know, she had a plan to make sure they didn’t get away with it.

Every year, my friends and I plan a girls’ weekend getaway. We take turns organizing, and this year, it was miy turn! I was excited to find the perfect spot: a cozy cabin nestled right on a sparkling lake.

We all squealed with delight when I sent the pictures.

A woman using her phone | Source: Pexels

A woman using her phone | Source: Pexels

The place looked like it came straight out of a magazine. It had a cozy cabin with a fireplace, stunning views of the lake, and even a hot tub.

The total cost was $2,000 for the three-night stay, which amounted to a very reasonable $250 each for our group of eight.

“Since I went ahead and booked the cabin, I covered the upfront cost,” I told my friends. “But to make things easier, I’d appreciate it if you could all pay me back before the trip. Does that work for everyone?”

A woman sitting in a living room | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting in a living room | Source: Midjourney

“Sounds perfect, Sarah!” Mary chimed in first. “Thanks for taking care of that.”

“Absolutely, no problem at all,” echoed Ella.

“Great, that works for me too!” chimed in Brittany.

One by one, everyone around the table agreed.

“Yep, sounds good”

“No worries, I can do that.”

The confirmations rolled in. It seemed everyone was happy to handle their share and promised to pay me before the trip started.

Easy peasy, right?

Wrong.

Close-up of a woman's face | Source: Midjourney

Close-up of a woman’s face | Source: Midjourney

As the trip approached, the easy peasy turned into oh-so-frustrating.

First, it was Mary. “Hey Sarah,” she chirped, “my car needs new brakes, so I might be a little late on my payment. I’ll get it to you next week.”

A week later, it was Brittany’s turn. “Ugh, student loans are killing me this month. Can I hold off until next payday?”

“I just need to wait until my next paycheck,” Melissa told me.

Weeks went by, and as I reminded them to pay back, they came up with more excuses.

Close-up of a phone in a woman's hands | Source: Pexels

Close-up of a phone in a woman’s hands | Source: Pexels

Each excuse was new and none of them overlapped. It seemed like they were together in this.

Then came the radio silence. Nada. No texts, no calls, nothing from Ella, Dana, or even reliable old Lisa.

By the week before the trip, I was out $2,000 and feeling completely used.

The same people I called my “friends” had indirectly refused to pay me back. The people I trusted the most had suddenly decided to team up against me.

Why were they doing this?

A serious woman | Source: Midjourney

A serious woman | Source: Midjourney

Had I done something wrong? Or was this an attempt to see how I would react to such a tricky situation? I didn’t know what it was, but it was making me super angry.

I knew I had to do something drastic, something that would make them understand I wasn’t a doormat.

As a result, I decided it was time to teach them a lesson they wouldn’t forget. Now, I’m not one for confrontation, but this was ridiculous.

The night before the trip, I took a deep breath and picked up my phone to execute the first step of my plan.

A woman using her phone | Source: Midjourney

A woman using her phone | Source: Midjourney

I sent a group text, bubbling over with fake excitement. “Can’t wait to see you all at the cabin tomorrow! Gonna be the perfect weekend getaway!”

Little did they know, I had a devious plan brewing

The next morning, I woke up extra early and hopped out of my bed. Throwing on clothes, I raced out the door, eager to transform the cabin into our own little haven.

At the grocery store, I pushed my cart down the aisles.

A grocery cart filled with goods | Source: Pexels

A grocery cart filled with goods | Source: Pexels

A giddy smile appeared on my face as I filled it with fresh fruit, cheese, and enough snacks to satisfy an army. I even got the best selection of wine and juices. I wanted to make sure my friends were well-fed and taken care of.

After paying for the snacks and drinks, I got back into my car and drove towards the cabin. It was even more beautiful in person, the sunlight glinting off the lake like a million diamonds.

I stocked the fridge with everything that I had bought.

A woman putting something in the fridge | Source: Pexels

A woman putting something in the fridge | Source: Pexels

I even prepped a bonfire for that night, complete with cozy blankets and marshmallows.

The place looked perfect. I knew my friends would have the best time of their lives here.

But here’s the catch: I took the keys and the garage door opener with me when I left for an “errand.”

Before locking the cabin, I texted all my friends that I was out for an urgent task and would make it there by the time they arrived. They trusted me, just like I did when I asked them to pay me back.

However, they broke my trust, and so did I.

A woman holding a key | Source: Midjourney

A woman holding a key | Source: Midjourney

If they wanted to have a good time in the cabin, they had to follow my rules. They had to earn their weekend getaway.

I wasn’t going to let them have a good time when all they did was ignore my texts and calls.

By lunchtime, my phone started blowing up. Frantic texts and calls poured in from my friends.

“Hey, Sarah, we’re here at the cabin, but the doors are locked!” Ella said.

“Did you forget something?” Mary asked.

A woman holding her phone | Source: Pexels

A woman holding her phone | Source: Pexels

I kept my cool, replying with a simple, “Oh no! So sorry, guys. Must have left the keys at home. But hey, the good news is I’m on my way back now!”

Was I on my way back? No!

I was sitting at a nearby cafe, sipping on my favorite iced latte. I enjoyed reading their texts as they reached the cabin one after the other.

After I sent the last message, the frequency of their texts dropped. They felt relieved I was on my way back, but the truth was entirely different.

A woman in a coffee shop | Source: Midjourney

A woman in a coffee shop | Source: Midjourney

As their short-lived relief faded, they started calling and texting me again. This time, their messages were way more desperate. Some of my friends were angry, while others were struggling not to lose their temper.

“How can you be so forgetful, Sarah?” Lisa asked.

“I can’t believe you’re making us all wait like this!” Dana said. “I thought this was supposed to be a fun trip.”

Finally, I decided to drop the bomb.

A woman looking outside a window in a coffee shop | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking outside a window in a coffee shop | Source: Midjourney

I sent a calm message: “Look, I’ll be happy to come back and let you all in, but only once everyone has sent over their share of the rental cost.”

Silence.

Then, a flurry of activity.

Apparently, the prospect of a luxurious weekend getaway suddenly trumped car troubles, student loans, and all the other excuses they’d cooked up.

My phone buzzed with Venmo, PayPal, and Zelle notifications as payments started rolling in.

Within an hour, every penny was accounted for.

Close-up shot of a phone | Source: Pexels

Close-up shot of a phone | Source: Pexels

“You guys could have done this before!” I said to myself before grabbing the keys and heading back to the cabin.

Their eyes lit up as soon as they saw my car. Some walked toward me, others to the door.

“Sarah! Finally!” Mary exclaimed, relief evident in her voice.

I stepped out of the car, keys in hand. “Oh, so now I’m ‘finally’ here? How convenient,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

The group fell silent, guilt spreading across their faces.

A serious woman | Source: Pexels

A serious woman | Source: Pexels

“Look, I’m sorry,” Brittany started. “But you have to understand, I really—”

I cut her off. “No, Brittany. You all made excuses. I trusted you, and you took advantage of that.”

Lisa stepped forward, trying to mediate. “Sarah, we messed up. But can’t we just put this behind us and enjoy the weekend?”

“Enjoy the weekend?” I scoffed. “After you all made me feel like a fool? After I had to practically blackmail you to get my money back?”

“We didn’t mean to hurt you,” Ella said softly. “We just didn’t realize—”

A woman speaking to her friend | Source: Midjourney

A woman speaking to her friend | Source: Midjourney

“Didn’t realize what? That $2,000 is a lot of money? That friendships are built on trust and respect?”

A tense silence fell over the group. For a moment, I thought confronting them was a bad idea. I thought they’d say they didn’t want to be there anymore.

I stood my ground despite the fear, letting the weight of my words sink in.

Finally, Mary broke the silence. She wrapped me in a giant hug.

“Sarah, I’m so sorry about the car thing. You were totally right to be mad.”

Brittany chimed in, “Yeah, me too. I’m sorry. We’re all sorry.”

A group of friends hugging | Source: Pexels

A group of friends hugging | Source: Pexels

They all finally realized what they had done.

I took a deep breath, looking at each of them. “I’m glad you understand now. But remember, respect is a two-way street.”

We may not be planning any luxury cabin getaways anytime soon, but at least we’ll be doing it with a renewed sense of understanding and responsibility.

This whole experience definitely made for a memorable story, even if it wasn’t exactly the relaxing weekend I’d planned.

But hey, sometimes the best lessons come wrapped in a little frustration and a whole lot of determination.

What do you think?

A lakeside cabin | Source: Pexels

A lakeside cabin | Source: Pexels

Here’s another story you might like: Eight hundred dollars plus. That’s what Jack’s “boys’ night out” bill came to, and he expected his wife, Lora, to foot it. Waitress Melanie, witnessing Lora’s despair, concocted a bold move to ensure Jack’s night didn’t end as he planned.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

My Mom Told Me Not to Visit for 3 Months Due to ‘Renovations’ — When I Decided to Surprise Her, I Discovered the Gory Truth She Was Hiding

For three months, Mia’s mom insisted she stay away while her house was being renovated. But something didn’t sit right. When Mia arrives unannounced, she finds the door unlocked, the house eerily pristine, and a strange smell in the air. Mia is about to stumble upon a devastating secret.

The city was just waking up as I drove through its empty streets. Early morning light painted everything in soft hues, but I couldn’t shake this gnawing feeling in my gut. Something was wrong.

A woman driving | Source: Midjourney

A woman driving | Source: Midjourney

I gripped the steering wheel tighter, my knuckles turning white. Mom’s voice echoed in my head as my memory replayed all those hurried phone calls and weird excuses. “Oh, honey, I can’t have you over. The house is a mess with all these renovations.”

But three months without seeing her? That wasn’t like us. We used to be thick as thieves, her and me.

I worried about what had changed as I waited at an intersection. Mom had always been house-proud, constantly tweaking and updating our home. But this felt different.

An intersection | Source: Pexels

An intersection | Source: Pexels

Her voice on the phone lately… she always sounded so tired. Sad, even. And every time I’d try to press her on it, she’d brush me off. “Don’t worry about me, Mia. How’s that big project at work going? Have you gotten that promotion yet?”

I knew she was keeping something from me, and I’d let it slide for far too long.

A woman driving | Source: Midjourney

A woman driving | Source: Midjourney

So here I was, way too early on a Saturday morning, driving across town because I couldn’t shake this feeling that something was terribly wrong.

As I pulled up to Mom’s house, my heart sank. The garden, usually Mom’s pride and joy, was overgrown and neglected. Weeds poked through the flower beds, and the rosebushes looked like they hadn’t seen pruning shears in months.

“What the hell?” I muttered. I killed the engine and rushed to the gate.

A woman walking up a front path | Source: Midjourney

A woman walking up a front path | Source: Midjourney

I walked up to the front door, my footsteps echoing in the quiet morning. When I tried the handle, it turned easily. Unlocked. That wasn’t like Mom at all.

Fear prickled across my skin as I stepped inside. There was no dust, or building materials in sight. No sign of a drop cloth or any paint cans either. And what was that smell? Sharp and citrusy. The place was too clean, too sterile. Like a hospital.

“Mom?” I called out.

No answer.

A woman standing in a hallway | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in a hallway | Source: Midjourney

My eyes swept the entryway, landing on a familiar photo on the side table. It was us at the beach when I was maybe seven or eight. I was grinning at the camera, gap-toothed and sunburned, while Mom hugged me from behind, laughing.

The glass was smudged with fingerprints, mostly over my face. That was weird. Mom was always wiping things down, keeping everything spotless. But this… it looked like someone had been touching the photo a lot, almost frantically.

A chill ran down my spine.

A woman holding a framed photo | Source: Midjourney

A woman holding a framed photo | Source: Midjourney

“Mom?” I called again, louder this time. “You here?”

That’s when I heard it. A faint creaking came from upstairs.

My heart raced as I climbed the stairs. The quiet felt heavy, pressing in on me from all sides. I tried to steady my breathing as I walked down the hallway toward Mom’s room.

“Mom?” My voice came out as a whisper now. “It’s me. It’s Mia.”

I pushed open her bedroom door, and the world seemed to tilt on its axis.

A bedroom door | Source: Unsplash

A bedroom door | Source: Unsplash

There she was, struggling to sit up in bed. But this… this couldn’t be my mother. The woman before me was frail and gaunt, her skin sallow against the white sheets. And her hair… oh God, her beautiful hair was gone, replaced by a scarf wrapped around her head.

“Mia?” Her voice was weak, barely above a whisper. “You aren’t supposed to be here.”

I stood frozen in the doorway, my mind refusing to process what I was seeing.

A woman standing in a doorway | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in a doorway | Source: Midjourney

“Mom? What… what happened to you?”

She looked at me with those familiar brown eyes, now sunken in her pale face. “Oh, honey,” she sighed. “I didn’t want you to find out like this.”

I stumbled to her bedside, dropping to my knees. “Find out what? Mom, please, tell me what’s going on.”

She reached out a thin hand, and I clasped it in both of mine. It felt so fragile, like a bird’s bones.

“I have cancer, Mia,” she said softly.

People holding hands | Source: Pexels

People holding hands | Source: Pexels

Time stopped and my world narrowed down to how dry her lips looked as she spoke and the hollow feeling in my chest. I couldn’t breathe.

“… undergoing chemotherapy for the past few months,” she finished.

“Cancer? But… but why didn’t you tell me? Why did you keep this from me?”

Tears welled up in her eyes. “I didn’t want to burden you, sweetheart. You’ve been working so hard for that promotion. I thought… I thought I could handle this on my own.”

A woman sitting in bed | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting in bed | Source: Midjourney

Anger flared up inside me, hot and sudden. “Handle it on your own? Mom, I’m your daughter! I should have been here! I should have known!”

“Mia, please,” she pleaded. “I was trying to protect you. I didn’t want you to see me like this, so weak and…”

“Protect me?” I cut her off, my voice rising as tears blurred my vision. “By lying to me? By keeping me away when you needed me most? How could you do that?”

A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney

A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney

Mom’s face crumpled, and she started to cry, too. “I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I’m so sorry, Mia. I thought I was doing the right thing. I didn’t want to be a burden.”

I climbed onto the bed beside her, careful not to jostle her too much, and pulled her into my arms.

“Oh, Mom,” I whispered. “You could never be a burden to me. Never.”

We sat there for a long time, just holding each other and crying. All the fear and pain of the past few months came pouring out.

A sad woman | Source: Midjourney

A sad woman | Source: Midjourney

When we finally calmed down, I helped Mom get more comfortable, propping her up with pillows. Then I went downstairs and made us both some tea, my mind reeling with everything I’d learned.

Back in her room, I perched on the edge of the bed, handing her a steaming mug. “So,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “Tell me everything. From the beginning.”

And she did. She told me about the diagnosis, the shock, and the fear. How she’d started treatment right away, hoping to beat it before I even knew something was wrong.

A woman lying in bed | Source: Midjourney

A woman lying in bed | Source: Midjourney

“But it spread so fast,” she said, her voice trembling. “By the time I realized how bad it was, I was already so sick.”

I took her hand again, squeezing gently. “Mom, don’t you get it? I love you. All of you. Even the sick parts, even the scared parts. Especially those parts. That’s what family is for.”

She looked at me, her eyes filled with a mixture of love and regret. “I just… I’ve always been the strong one, you know? Your rock. I didn’t know how to be anything else.”

A woman glancing to one side | Source: Midjourney

A woman glancing to one side | Source: Midjourney

I smiled through my tears. “Well, now it’s my turn to be the rock. I’m not going anywhere, Mom. We’re in this together, okay?”

She nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Okay.”

I moved back in with Mom later that week. I also took time off work and called in every favor I could to get Mom the best care possible, even if all we could do was keep her as comfortable as possible.

We spent her final days together, sharing stories and memories, laughing and crying together. And when the end came, I was right there beside her.

A woman lying beside her mother | Source: Midjourney

A woman lying beside her mother | Source: Midjourney

“I’m sorry, Mia,” she whispered. “I wanted… I never took you to Disneyland… I promised to take you camping in the mountains… so many promises I’ve broken…”

“It’s not important.” I moved closer to her on the bed. “What matters is that you were always there for me when I needed you. You always knew how to make me smile when I was sad, or make everything better when I messed something up.” I sniffed. “I don’t know what I’m going to do without you, Mom.”

Her eyes cracked open, and she smiled faintly at me.

Close up of a woman's eyes | Source: Midjourney

Close up of a woman’s eyes | Source: Midjourney

“You’re going to be okay, Mia. You’re so strong… my amazing daughter. I love you so much.”

I put my arms around her and hugged her as tightly as I dared. I’m not sure exactly when she slipped away, but when I eventually pulled back, Mom was gone.

I stayed there for a long time, trying to hold onto the warmth of our last hug as sobs racked my body, replaying her last words in my mind. Trying to keep her with me, no matter how impossible that was.

A woman grieving | Source: Midjourney

A woman grieving | Source: Midjourney

Saying goodbye to Mom was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. But I wouldn’t trade those moments I spent with her for anything in the world.

Because in the end, that’s what love is. It’s showing up, even when it’s hard. It’s being there, even in the darkest moments. It’s holding on tight and never letting go.

Here’s another story: My name is Larissa, and I’m just a regular woman trying to keep up with the demands of life. Between work and everything else, I sometimes forget to slow down and focus on what really matters. But nothing could have prepared me for the day I returned to my childhood home, only to find it reduced to rubble and my mother missing.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

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