His ‘Love Coach’ Planned Every Step of Our Relationship, She Also Planned Its End Chapter 01

His ‘Love Coach’ Planned Every Step of Our Relationship, She Also Planned Its End Chapter 01

Logan only won me over because Darcy coached him through every move.

That became Darcy’s excuse to control every part of our relationship.

She was the one who said, “Don’t make it Instagram official if you’re not sure it’ll last.” So, for five years of dating, Logan never once posted a single picture of me on social media.

She was the one who said, “Distance makes the heart grow fonder; smothering each other will only ruin the spark.” So, Logan wouldn’t even take me on a date without her green light.

I cried. I threw fits.

But Logan always managed to look more aggrieved than I was.

“I only asked her to be my relationship coach because I wanted us to last,” he’d argue. “Why can’t you just understand that?”

It all came to a head the night Logan left me shivering with a raging fever and fell completely off the grid.

Unable to take it anymore, I finally texted him.

[Where are you?]

The reply came almost instantly.

[A woman needs to maintain her sense of agency. Clinging to a man only makes you look cheap. No man values a girl who has no life of her own.]

I knew immediately it was Darcy texting from his phone again.

This time, I didn’t care why Darcy had full access to his phone so late at night. I didn’t scream or demand to know who mattered more, me or Darcy.

Something inside me just clicked.

He had a coach. Well, so did I.

…

It was nearly midnight when Logan finally stumbled home.

He reeked of alcohol, and practically every inch of him was smeared with sweet, cloying frosting.

Thinking of that text, I kept my voice level and reached for his phone. “Let me clean that up for you.”

Before I could even touch it, Logan flinched away as if I were carrying a plague.

“I told you, I don’t like people touching my phone,” he snapped. “Even couples need boundaries.”

Boundaries. Right. I had swallowed that excuse for five whole years. Yet, for those exact same five years, Darcy had been the sole exception to his precious boundaries, casually texting people back on his behalf.

A familiar, dull ache flared in my chest. I couldn’t stop myself from pressing further.

“Who replied to my text earlier then? If you care so much about boundaries, why doesn’t that apply to Darcy?”

Having his bluff called clearly irritated him. An impatient scowl crossed his face.

“How many times do I have to tell you? She’s just my wingman. Why do you always have to be so paranoid?”

As if trying to prove his innocence, he unlocked the phone right in front of my face. The screen was slick with greasy frosting, and it took him several swipes just to punch in the passcode.

709. It matched today’s date perfectly. July 9th.

He had spent the night with Darcy, covered in cake frosting, and his lock screen passcode was set to her birthday, not mine.

The brutal truth shattered whatever resolve I had left, leaving me too exhausted to even argue.

In the beginning, I had asked him for a little romance. I wanted him to set his wallpaper and passcode to something that represented us.

Back then, Logan had dismissed me with a single word: ‘Immature, “Grow up.”

He thought it was immature when it came to me, but why was it perfectly fine for Darcy?

With tears streaming down my face, I forced the question out loud.

All I got was his defensive, irritated justification.

“She said it was annoying to keep asking for the password when she was helping me reply to texts. I just changed it to her birthday for convenience.”

The things I had begged five years for, he handed to Darcy out of “convenience.”

I stared blankly at the man before me, unable to comprehend when everything had warped so badly.

Before we started dating, he used to treasure me so much that he would deliberate for hours over a single text.

When I casually teased him for being too blunt, his awkward replies magically transformed into high-EQ, charming responses overnight—courtesy of his coach.

I just never realized this so-called female wingman would infiltrate every single crevice of our relationship.

In that moment, a profound exhaustion washed over me.

His phone buzzed. It was a notification from Darcy.

She had sent over a collage of screenshots—photos of her and Logan cozying up together across various social media platforms.

Her caption read: The most important person in my life.

For years, Darcy’s excuse of “keeping things private” meant Logan kept me completely hidden from his world. Yet now, he gave Darcy an exclusive, public display of affection on every platform he owned.

They were each other’s most important people. I was just the third wheel.

Forcing a bitter smile, I held the phone up to his face and spoke with absolute clarity.

“Since she’s so important to you, why don’t I just break up with you so you two can be together? That way, she won’t have to spend so much energy trying to make me miserable.”

Annoyed, Logan slapped my hand away, sending the phone clattering.

“Darcy only does this to give you a sense of urgency so you’ll appreciate me more! She works hard enough being our relationship coach, and all you do is suspect her. Don’t you get tired of this?”

He sneered. “Darcy’s right. You really are just a manipulative, toxic girl.”

Darcy says, Darcy says. He was forever at her beck and call.

I knew there was no point in arguing further.

A relationship coach? Who didn’t have one?

I shut my mouth, looked down, and opened a chat window with my childhood best friend.

[Hey, Coach. It looks like he prefers his wingman over me. What should I do?]

The message had barely sent when Felix replied.

[Then it’s a good thing your coach is better than his.]

[I’m returning to the States in three days.]

[Will you give me a chance?]

Three days from now would be our fifth anniversary.

Since Logan chose to listen to his coach, I decided it was time to start listening to mine.