Unpacking sucked. And Magnus had only brought like half of his things. Okay, maybe two-thirds. But whatever, it didn’t matter. What did matter was that Magnus was sweating from carrying boxes, the cottage had no air conditioning, and he was super close to packing everything back up and driving back to New York in about three seconds.
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Or the one where heartbreak is a pain in the ass, Magnus is forced to spend the summer in a small cottage in the hopes of finding his passion for design again, and manages to piss off the cute neighbor after only being there for two days.
"The only real pain in life is between hanging on and letting go."