Roommate Took Over Her Ex-Roommate’s Half of the Security Deposit — Then Refused to Return a Cent When Asked

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When one roommate decided she wanted out before the lease was up, she thought she had a clean plan: find a replacement, collect her share of the security deposit, and move on. But in the original post, the roommate staying behind says she’s now being accused of “stealing” money—because she agreed to cover the full lease but refused to hand over cash for the departing roommate’s deposit.

The disagreement isn’t just about who pays what. It’s about timing, paperwork, and a security deposit that’s tied up with the landlord until someone actually moves out. Add in a new job, a pregnancy, and the pressure of suddenly being responsible for a whole apartment, and what might have been a simple handoff turned into a tense standoff.

They moved in together, but one person did most of the setup

The two roommates moved in together in September under a one-year lease set to end in late August. According to the person posting, she handled most of the legwork to secure the place—finding the apartment, touring, meeting with the landlord—while her roommate’s main task was signing the lease.

Living together sounded mostly calm. They didn’t spend a lot of time together and, when problems came up, the poster says she addressed them directly. Money was tight for both of them, but the arrangement worked—until her roommate announced she planned to break the lease early.

The roommate wanted out, but the replacement plan didn’t come together

A couple of months before the post, the roommate said she intended to leave early and find someone to take over her share. The poster says she agreed in principle, but with one boundary: since her roommate was the one breaking the lease, finding the replacement would be her responsibility.

Months passed, and the poster says only one potential subletter came through to tour the apartment. That person was younger and didn’t have a job, which didn’t exactly calm fears about whether rent would be paid reliably. On top of that, the departing roommate allegedly listed the apartment at the wrong price online—$800 instead of $825, not including utilities—making it harder to set expectations and potentially attracting people who couldn’t actually afford the real total.

Then came the sticking point: the roommate expected a subletter to pay her back for her portion of the deposit—$825—essentially treating the move-out like a private transfer of her deposit interest.

A new job changed the math, and the deposit became the fight

At some point during the back-and-forth, the poster got a new job that paid significantly more. Instead of continuing to wait on a shaky replacement process, she decided she’d rather take over the full lease herself and stop stressing about who might move in on short notice.

That’s when the departing roommate asked a direct question: if the poster was taking over the full place, would she pay back the roommate’s $825 deposit? The poster said no. She said she didn’t have that money available and, more importantly, she wasn’t moving out anytime soon—meaning she wouldn’t be getting any deposit money back from the landlord now, either.

The departing roommate didn’t accept that answer. The poster says she was told she was “stealing $1600,” referencing the roommate’s rent paid through May plus the deposit. But the poster’s view is straightforward: those payments went to the landlord, not into her pocket. Taking over the lease going forward didn’t create a pile of cash she could hand back, and the deposit is still sitting with the property owner until the lease ends and the unit is surrendered.

The real pressure point: a baby on the way and control of the space

Money wasn’t the only driver here. The poster also shared that she’s pregnant and doesn’t want to share her home with a stranger once the baby arrives. That raised another concern about letting a subletter move in: what happens when the lease ends and renewal decisions come up?

In her telling, allowing someone else to move in now could reduce her control later. If a subletter moved in and wanted to renew, she worried she might not be able to refuse. Whether or not that’s how it works in every rental market, it’s clearly what she was trying to avoid: getting locked into a living arrangement with someone new at the exact moment her life is about to change dramatically.

So she took the simplest path she could see—pay the full rent herself and keep the apartment stable. But to the roommate leaving early, it looked like the poster was keeping the benefit of the deposit without paying for it.

Where the landlord fits in, and why that didn’t settle it

The poster says she checked with the landlord and was told she didn’t have to pay the departing roommate back. That makes sense under the most common structure of a security deposit: the landlord holds it and decides what is returned after the tenancy ends, often after deductions for damage, cleaning, or unpaid rent.

In other words, even if the departing roommate wants her deposit money now, the landlord typically doesn’t split it mid-lease. And if only one tenant remains in the unit, the deposit still often stays in place to protect the landlord until move-out.

But what’s “standard” doesn’t always feel fair to the person leaving. From the roommate’s point of view, she paid $825 upfront to move in and now she’s leaving without seeing it again—possibly for months, or longer if the remaining tenant renews again. The poster’s point is that she didn’t create that timeline; the roommate did, by choosing to break the lease early.

Most people zeroed in on deposit mechanics and getting it in writing

The post itself is labeled “Not the A-hole,” reflecting how many readers tend to view early move-outs: if you’re the one leaving before the lease ends, you don’t get to dictate terms that transfer the risk and inconvenience to the person staying.

Reactions like that usually come down to practicalities. A deposit is meant to cover the property, not function as a refundable “membership fee” that roommates can demand from each other on demand. If the landlord is holding it, then the cleanest outcome is often for roommates to privately agree on a buyout—or accept that the departing roommate’s reimbursement comes later, once the tenancy ends and the landlord returns whatever is left.

Commenters in disputes like this also tend to stress documentation: keeping records of who paid what, confirming any lease changes with the landlord, and making sure there’s a written agreement if one roommate is expecting a payout. Because once someone moves out angry, misunderstandings don’t just fade—they harden into “you owe me” versus “I don’t,” and the numbers only get louder.

For now, the poster is holding her line. She’s planning to stay, she’s willing to pay the full rent, and she doesn’t believe she should be responsible for refunding money that’s still tied up with the landlord. The roommate who wants out sees it as being left behind financially. And with the lease still running until August, they’re stuck in the uncomfortable middle ground where one person is leaving early, and the other is trying to keep a home steady without writing a check she says she can’t afford.