That night, alone in his apartment, Marko opened the book reluctantly. The first line of chapter three hit him like a cold shower: “A ‘nice guy’ isn’t actually nice. He’s just scared of conflict, so he agrees with everything, then resents everyone.” He read on. The book didn’t tell women to be cruel. It told them to stop being doormats. To have boundaries. To say no without guilt. To have their own life, their own opinions, their own spine.
Marko thought about his first wife, Irena. She had been “difficult.” She told him when he was being lazy. She went on trips without him. She once threw his PlayStation out the window when he ignored her for three days straight. Zasto Se Muskarci Zene Kuckama Cela Knjiga
“I don’t get it,” Marko said, stirring his coffee long after the sugar had dissolved. “I gave Sanja everything. Compliments. Gifts. I never raised my voice. I texted her good morning every single day for six years. And she left me for a guy who forgets her birthday.” That night, alone in his apartment, Marko opened