My husband and I moved into this complex two years ago, lured by his cousin Jerry’s persistent encouragement. He convinced us that this place was perfect for us, practically ordering us to make the move. At first, it was all smooth sailing. We were settling into our new home, enjoying the peace and quiet—until Jerry started showing up. Fast forward three years, and the man has become a living nightmare.
Every morning, without fail, as I sit on the doorstep sipping my morning coffee and picking up the newspaper, Jerry barges in like he owns the place. And the worst part? He never gives us a heads-up. There’s no knock, no text, just Jerry waltzing in, claiming it’s all thanks to him that we have the privilege of living in this “fabulous” complex. To be honest, it’s nothing to brag about, but Jerry acts like he’s done us the greatest favor of our lives.
