Chapter 1

I pushed the door open after work, only to find Logan’s shoes kicked all over the entryway again.

Irritated, I bent down and put them away.

"Logan, how many times do I have to tell you? Shoes go into the shoe rack!"

He was deep in his video game and didn’t even look up.

"Got it. Next time, I promise."

I opened my mouth, ready to tell him he’d said the exact same thing yesterday.

Then my eyes caught the overflowing trash can in the living room.

A flood of memories instantly crashed over me.

When I asked Logan to do the dishes, he literally only washed the dishes. The dirty pans and the greasy countertops were left untouched.

When I had a raging fever in the middle of the night, half-delirious, I asked him to run downstairs to the pharmacy for medicine. He just muttered that he was exhausted, too, and told me to order it on DoorDash.

Then there were the damp clothes he forgot in the washer, the empty pitcher in the fridge he never refilled, the dirty socks scattered across the floor...

A wave of bone-deep exhaustion hit me. I turned around and looked at him.

"Let's break up."

Only then did Logan finally look up from his screen, staring at me like I’d lost my mind.

"Are you seriously starting drama over nothing? I don’t cheat, I don’t blow money on gambling, and I share my paycheck with you!"

"You’re breaking up with me just because of some damn shoes?"

His voice was so loud it left me completely speechless.

I wanted to tell him it was never just about the shoes.

It was the lights he left on, the clutter he never put back, the toilet paper roll he never replaced when it ran out.

It was too much.

Yet none of that frustration could make it past my lips. Every single thing sounded so petty when spoken aloud, making me look like a nagging micromanager.

I looked at Logan with sheer disappointment and kept silent.

I walked into the bedroom, pulled out my suitcase, and started packing.

Fuming, Logan threw himself onto the couch, completely baffled as to why I was ending things.

When I wheeled my suitcase out, his face was still dark with resentment.

"Let’s just take some time to cool off," I said.

"I'll come back this weekend to pack the rest of my things."

Logan grabbed my arm.

"Why?"

"If you want to break up, you at least owe me a real reason."

I took a deep breath and looked right into his eyes.

"I was away on a three-day business trip. What did I ask you before I left? Wash the dishes in the sink, hang up the laundry, and throw away the takeout boxes on the counter."

"And look at this place."

Logan looked around at the chaotic mess, momentarily at a loss for words.

His face flushed red, but he still argued back.

"You're breaking up with me over petty little chores?"

"I just forgot! I'll definitely remember next time!"

I couldn't even remember how many times he’d said those exact words.

I was done fighting.

I was so exhausted that even looking at his face drained the life out of me.

Next time, and then the next time. There was always another "next time."

I let out a soft sigh.

"You don't need to change. You didn't do anything unforgivable."

"We just have different habits. It’s better if we go our separate ways."

Logan tightened his grip on my wrist.

"Chloe, didn't I already apologize?"

"I'm trying to change, okay? I can't completely rewire my habits overnight! Just because I haven't met your impossible standards yet, you throw a tantrum and want to break up?"

I didn't answer. I just pulled my arm free from his grip with steady force.

I grabbed my suitcase and kept walking toward the door.

"Fine! You want to break up? Then let's break up!"

"I'm sick of you anyway! Every time I’m around you, you’re bossing me around, ordering me to take out the trash, nag, nag, nag about the laundry. You could easily do all that yourself, but you have to make me do it!"

"Am I not allowed to have any free time of my own?!"

My steps faltered. I glanced back at his flushed, furious face.

Suddenly, I remembered the promises he made when he was chasing me.

"Chloe, once we move in together, I promise you won’t have to lift a finger. I get home earlier from work anyway, so I’ll handle everything. You just focus on being happy and pretty, and I’ll take care of you."

Looking back now, it felt like a bitter joke.

I pulled my gaze away, opened the door, and said my final words to him.

"Congratulations."

"Now that we're over, your time is all yours."