Chapter 3 - The Untangling of a Lazy Man’s World**
By Sunday afternoon, the security footage showed a house in absolute, unadulterated ruins.
The living room looked like a toy manufacturing warehouse had exploded. Diapers—some clean, some terrifyingly soiled—were strewn across the hardwood floor like landmines. The kitchen sink was overflowing with unwashed bottles, crusty cereal bowls, and empty coffee mugs. Derek hadn't showered in thirty-six hours; I could practically smell his panic through the high-definition lens of the camera.
At 2:15 PM, my phone rang. It wasn't just a regular call; it was a desperate, high-pitched FaceTime request from Derek.
I let it ring three times before calmly swiping to accept.
His face filled the screen, and honestly, it was a masterpiece of human suffering. His eyes were bloodshot, dark circles carved deep into his pale skin. His jaw was covered in a rough, patchy beard, and he was wearing a stained grey t-shirt that smelled of old sweat. In the background, both Leo and Liam were screaming at the top of their lungs in high-pitched stereo.
"Chloe?!" Derek shrieked, his voice cracking with pure hysteria. "Where the hell are you?! Are you trying to kill me?! Come back right now!"
I took a slow, leisurely sip of my iced coffee before answering, keeping my voice infuriatingly calm and sweet.
"Why are you yelling, sweetie?" I asked innocently. "You told me yourself that taking care of babies is doing nothing. You're just sitting around the house all day, right? Enjoying your vacation from my nagging?"
"This isn't funny!" Derek roared, coughing as Liam let out an ear-splitting screech in the background. "I haven't slept in two days! I tried to change Leo's diaper and he peed all over my face! I dropped a bottle of expensive formula on the kitchen tile, and the dog is eating it! Where are you?!"
"I'm visiting my mom," I replied smoothly. "You know, since moms don't get sick days or days off, I figured I’d take my first day off in five months. You've got this, Derek! You're a big, strong man with a real job. Surely playing babysitter for a couple of hours shouldn't break a guy like you."
"I CAN'T DO THIS!" Derek bellowed, tears actually welling up in his bloodshot eyes. "The house is a disaster! I haven't eaten a real meal since Friday! Every time I try to go to the bathroom, one of them starts howling like a siren! Please, Chloe, I'm begging you... come home. I'll do anything. I'll do the dishes, I'll cook, I'll take night shifts for a year! Just come back!"
I let the silence stretch for a long, delicious moment, letting him marinate in his own utter helplessness.
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"I'll be home tonight around dinner time, Derek," I said softly. "But we are going to have a very long, very serious conversation about what 'doing nothing' actually means in this household."
I hung up the phone before he could reply, feeling a profound, vindicating sense of justice wash over me.
