— Why on earth did you bring these stupid jeans? — Chloe snapped, slamming the door inches from her husband’s nose. — I specifically asked for the silk slip dress. You show up looking like a total loser with these hideous denims. What kind of man did I marry? You can’t make a decent living, and you can’t even run a simple errand for your wife.
Inside the hallway, Logan scratched at the door and let out a playful, pathetic whimper.
— Honey, come on. I’ll get you any dress you want. Just let me in. You know I’m crazy about you.
— Get lost! You’re useless! — Chloe yelled from the far end of the apartment.
As her voice rose to a screech, the neighbors began thumping on the water pipes, a rhythmic demand for silence. Chloe grumbled under her breath for a few more minutes before finally unlatching the door. Logan hurried in, tail wagging metaphorically. She looked at him with profound exhaustion and sighed.
— You really are an idiot, aren’t you?
— Anything for you, babe, — he whispered, pulling her close.
Neither of them found much joy in this life, but they were settled into a groove of mutual dysfunction. To their families, they were a pair of selfish freaks—which, in fairness, they were. Logan had never been a “people person.” Growing up, his only real ally was his younger sister, Mia. His older brothers, Nick and Oscar, had always treated him with a distant, condescending superiority, and once they married, they cut him off entirely, calling only when absolutely necessary.
After high school, Logan enrolled in a technical college to study engineering. By junior year, he’d spiraled into a cycle of partying and nearly flunked out. His parents stepped in, pulling strings and paying for an extra year so he could scrape by with a degree. Diploma in hand, he took a job at a local logistics firm. He found his only true peace sitting in the passenger seat of a freight truck, nursing a hidden beer and talking shop with the drivers on long hauls.
Women were a different story. Despite a desperate desire to be a leading man, Logan had the charisma of a damp rag. In his senior year, he thought he’d finally struck gold with a girl named Mila, an education major. They went to the movies and took long walks through the park. Logan convinced himself he was “the man,” until one ridiculous day ruined everything.
It was April 1st. Logan decided to go big and take Mila to a high-end theater premiere. He sold his vintage watch to afford the tickets, put on his best suit, and showed up at her sorority house with a massive bouquet. The girls at the door took one look at him and started giggling.
— Oh, didn’t you hear? — one of them said, stifling a laugh. — She got married yesterday. We just got back from the reception. It was huge.
Logan froze.
— Married? But… we had a date. That’s impossible.
He handed the flowers to one of the girls, turned on his heel, and marched toward his car. Halfway there, he remembered something and doubled back.
— Here, — he said, thrusting the expensive tickets at them. — I won’t be needing these.
He sprinted away before they could say a word. Once he was out of sight, the girls collapsed into fits of laughter.
— He forgot it’s April Fool’s! — one shrieked. — He actually believed us!
Embittered and humiliated, Logan went home with a six-pack. Without a word to his parents, he locked himself in his room and downed them one by one. The sharp edges of the world began to soften.
— Whatever. She’s just a shallow bitch anyway, — he muttered, face-planting onto his bed.
Buried in his pillow, he hallucinated a future where he stepped out of a mansion with a supermodel on his arm, while Mila watched from the sidewalk, weeping and begging for a second chance. In his mind, he didn’t even look at her as he drove away in a Ferrari.
After graduation, Logan’s mother began to nag him about settling down. Nick, Oscar, and Mia all had homes and families. Logan just hid in his apartment, dodging the inevitable holiday questions: When do we get to meet the lucky girl? When are you going to give us grandkids?
He would just huff and retreat.
— Who says I have to get married? I’ll do it when I’m ready.
When he hit twenty-eight, his sister-in-law, Sarah, decided to play matchmaker. She set him up with a girl named Harper. It wasn’t until two months after the wedding that Logan discovered Harper had been married once before. When he confronted her about hiding her past, she just shrugged.
— So I had a starter marriage. Big deal. I’m here now, aren’t I?
— Am I just another “starter” then? — Logan asked, wounded.
— Keep whining like that and you might be, — Harper snapped. — Look at you, Logan. You’ve got no ambition, no real money, and you still run to your mother for everything. Be grateful I said yes at all.
Logan realized then that he was outmatched. Harper wasn’t the submissive type; she was a firebrand who took great pleasure in driving Logan’s overbearing mother to the brink of a stroke.
— I can’t believe Sarah brought that viper into our family! — his mother would fuming.
She couldn’t stand Sarah either, considering her a lazy gossip who spent her time “asserting her rights.”
— Why should I listen to you? — Sarah would argue during Sunday dinners. — My father is a Chief of Surgery and my brother is a corporate lawyer. You couldn’t dream of making what they make in a year!
These “clash of the titans” moments always ended the same way: Nick would go silent and move out to a hotel for a few days. Logan used to laugh at his brother’s “silent treatment” phase, but when Harper started doing the same to him, the joke lost its edge.
Do any of these women make sense? he wondered. Nothing is ever good enough.
When Harper got pregnant, Logan was actually happy.
Maybe a kid will calm her down, he thought. Maybe she’ll stop picking fights for five minutes.
The pregnancy was fine, but the baby was stillborn. Later, a specialist explained there was a genetic incompatibility. They could successfully have a girl, but a boy would almost always result in a non-viable pregnancy or severe complications. This gave Logan’s mother all the ammunition she needed to blame Sarah for “sabotaging” her son’s legacy.
— That woman! — his mother screamed. — First she traps him with that girl, then she picks one who can’t even give my son an heir!
Sarah became persona non grata at the family house, which suited her just fine.
— Thank God! — Sarah told her husband. — Let them stay away. Everything in that house is about her and her “precious boys” anyway.
Two years later, Harper gave birth to a daughter, whom they named Vanessa. The girl was a carbon copy of her mother—dark-haired, olive-skinned, and, to the grandmother’s relief, perfectly healthy. But Vanessa grew up spoiled and sharp-tongued, a miniature version of Harper in every way.
By the age of five, Vanessa would greet Logan when he came home after a few drinks with:
— Look at this drunk mess. You’re a disgrace! You’re sleeping on the couch tonight!
Logan would just beam at her, watching his little girl stand there with her hands on her hips, glaring up at him.
— Look at you, my clever little princess. You’re so smart, you know exactly when Daddy’s had a rough day. Look, honey, I brought you a new Barbie.
Vanessa would grab the toy, forget her script, and run off. Harper would then step in to finish the job with more colorful language. When Logan’s mother overheard how Harper spoke to him, she exploded.
— He’s the man of the house! He has a right to a drink! Who do you think you are?
— Who am I? — Harper laughed in her face. — I’m the idiot who married this loser. He can’t fix a leaky faucet, he has to be nagged to take out the trash, and he won’t even say a civil word to my mother! He brings home the cheapest groceries that go bad in a day, and then the cheapskate sits there and counts every penny! “I bought you leggings! I bought the kid a doll!” I’m sick of him!
The mother went quiet. She knew Logan was petty. He’d even been known to send his own mother an invoice for picking up her heart medication.
When Vanessa was twelve, Harper finally filed for divorce. She decided being a single mom was easier than managing a husband who couldn’t function without a checklist. The divorce was quick. Logan was ordered to pay minimal child support since he claimed he was “between jobs.” He immediately took the path of least resistance.
— Mom, I’m unemployed. Your pension is solid. What’s a few hundred bucks a month to you? I’m your son. Help me out.
She couldn’t say no. Despite her resentment, her habit of enabling her children was too strong. She paid the child support out of her own retirement funds until Vanessa turned eighteen—a granddaughter she barely knew. Harper made sure of that, telling Vanessa daily about the “hell” she endured with Logan’s family.
Vanessa eventually got a degree in finance and started working at a bank, where she met a guy. Six months later, they were engaged. Logan didn’t go to the wedding. He didn’t want to deal with Harper’s insults, and more importantly, he didn’t want to buy a gift.
Vanessa had inherited her mother’s temperament. If her husband breathed the wrong way, she’d berate him until dawn. However, her husband wasn’t the “silent type.” He filed for divorce within a year. Harper didn’t even blink.
— He wasn’t good enough for you anyway. So what if he works at a bank? He’s just a loan officer, not the CEO. No vision. Forget him, honey. You’ll find someone ten times better.
Vanessa listened, but the “better” man never materialized. No one was particularly eager to sign up for a lifetime of her verbal gymnastics. This started to worry Harper, who was getting older and wanted grandkids to spoil.
One day, Logan reached out to his sister, Mia.
— Look, you’re a doctor, you meet a lot of people. Can’t you set me up with someone? Someone low-maintenance, no kids. I’m bored, and Mom is riding my back about doing my own laundry.
Mia promised to look around. Eventually, she introduced him to Chloe: a divorcee with no children, fifteen years Logan’s junior. Her family wasn’t well-off, so the idea of her marrying a man with a house and a steady (albeit modest) life was appealing. Chloe couldn’t have children due to a chronic kidney condition that led to several late-term miscarriages. She was done trying, and Logan was done caring. For once, their interests aligned.
Whenever Logan’s family came over, Chloe would put on a show. She’d get dressed up, put on a full face of makeup, and announce she was heading out. She’d force Logan to beg her to stay, making him promise he wouldn’t let his family linger.
— They’re your family, Logan. You deal with them. I’m out. I’ll be back when they’re gone. And don’t you dare let them stay the night.
Logan would swear on his life. Chloe would only return once she saw their cars leave the driveway.
She and Logan shared a hobby: drinking. After a few years, they started buying in bulk, locking the doors and turning off their phones for weekend-long benders. If Chloe left her phone on, she’d spend the night calling Logan’s sisters and screaming obscenities at them, venting her frustrations with him onto them.
The sisters took it for a while out of respect for Logan. But then Chloe called their cousin, Avery, and reduced the girl to tears. The next day, Avery’s older sister, Clara, showed up. Clara was usually the quiet, stoic type, but when she hammered on their door that afternoon, her face was white with rage.
— Chloe, — Clara said, her voice terrifyingly calm as she stepped inside. — If you ever call one of us while you’re wasted again, you’re going to regret it. We’ve put up with your crap for three years for Logan’s sake, but you’ve crossed a line. Do I make myself clear?
Chloe, nursing a hangover, just smirked. Logan had never stood up to her, so she figured Clara was a bluff. She stepped into Clara’s space and spat on the floor.
— Here’s what I think of your threats…
She didn’t finish. Clara delivered a backhand so sharp it sent Chloe reeling against the wall. Logan stood frozen, paralyzed as his sister grabbed Chloe by the collar.
— I’m not going to say it twice, — Clara whispered. — When you get drunk, drown your phone. Eat your SIM card. I don’t care. But do not call us. Only call if one of you is actually dead. Understood?
Terrified, Chloe nodded like a robot.
— Of course, Clara. I’m sorry. No more calls. I promise.
From that day on, Chloe was the perfect hostess whenever Clara was around, rushing to make tea and put out snacks. She still ignored the rest of the family, but she never forgave Logan for standing by and watching his sister handle her.
— You just stood there like a statue while she hit me! Do you know how hard her hand is? My head still hurts. I’ll show her.
But there was nothing to show. Chloe eventually learned that Clara was the only person the brothers actually feared. Since they were kids, the boys knew that Clara didn’t play by “girl rules.” She had a heavy hand and a terrifyingly accurate swing. She preferred peace, but if you pushed her into a corner, she didn’t retreat.
— Chloe, honey, what could I do? — Logan pleaded. — If I’d stepped in, she would have just hit you harder. That’s just Clara. Nobody messes with her. She’s like a bulldog—once she locks on, she doesn’t let go until you’re down. Just stay on her good side. You only see her once a year anyway.
Eventually, the family stopped visiting altogether. Whenever they tried to make plans, Logan would whine over the phone.
— Stop trying to come over. Let us just live our lives. Go have cake and coffee at your own house. We’re fine.
Chloe, meanwhile, would brag to her drinking buddies.
— My Logan? He can’t take his eyes off me. He treats me like a queen. The second I walk in the room, he’s following me around like a puppy. He doesn’t need anyone but me.
Her friends would sigh with envy, their own husbands far less attentive. And Logan? Logan was just happy he finally had someone to kill the time with.
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