He runs into his exwife, and jealousy paints his cheeks a sickly green.
Philippe meets his former spouse, and the envy turns his cheekbones a literal shade of green. He slams the refrigerator door so hard the contents shake, and one of the magnets on the door pops off with a dull clang, hitting the floor.
Clémence stands opposite him, pale, her hands clenched into fists.
So, feeling better now? she says, lifting her chin.
Youre getting on my nerves, Philippe replies, voice trembling though he tries to stay composed. Whats this life? No joy, no future.
So its still all my fault? Clémence offers a bitter smile. Of course, nothing goes the way you dream.
Philippe wants to retort, but only gestures. He opens a bottle of sparkling water, takes a gulp straight from the neck, then slams it back onto the table.
Philippe, dont stay silent, Clémance says, her voice shaking. Tell me, for once, what really bothers you.
What to say? he growls. Its all worn me out. To hell with it!
They stare at each other in silence for a few seconds. At last, Clémance inhales deeply and heads to the bathroom. Philippe collapses heavily onto the couch. The sound of running water drifts through the doorshe must have turned on the tap to drown her sobs. It no longer matters to him.
**A life turned routine**
Three years earlier they had married. First they lived in Clémances apartment, inherited from her parents, then moved to a country house, putting the flat in their daughters name. They occupied a spacious yet unrenovated home, its furniture dating back to earlier years.
At the start Philippe was pleased: central location, convenient for work. Over time, however, everything began to irritate him. Clémance loved their family refuge with brown wallpaper and an old inherited sideboard. Philippe saw only a lack of change.
Clémance, tell me honestly, he repeated. Dont you want to replace that awful floor with yellow linoleum? Refresh the interior, modernize it?
Philippe, right now we dont have the money for renovations, she answered calmly. I also dream of change, but we have to wait for the bonuses.
Wait?! Thats your philosophy endure and wait!
Philippe often recalled how he fell for Clémance. She had been a shy student then, her sincere blue eyes and gentle smile had won him over. He told friends, Shes a bud that will bloom. Now it seemed the flower never blossomed and was already wilting.
**Gift baskets**
Clémance didnt see herself as invisible. She simply lived as she thought, savoring small pleasuresa mint tea, a new tablecloth, a quiet evening with a book. Philippe perceived all that as stagnation and routine.
They werent rushing to divorcePhilippe didnt want to move back with his parents, and living apart wasnt feasible at the moment. Clémances mother, Madeleine, always took her daughters side:
My son, Clémance is a good girl. Be glad you have an apartment.
Mom, you dont understand! Philippe snapped.
The father merely nodded:
Let him manage.
At home, Philippe grew colder: Shes like a shadow, a grey ghost, he thought. During an argument he shouted:
I once saw a magnificent flower in you! And now? I live with a frozen bud
It was the first time in months that Clémance wept. On that very day everything collapsed, Philippe whispered softly:
Clémance, Im exhausted.
From what? she asked.
From this life, from this endless routine.
Clémance grabbed her bag and left. Philippe hoped shed return and ask him to stay, but she walked out calmly:
Maybe its better you truly live alone. Move out.
Philippe exploded:
I wont leave!
Its my parents apartment, Clémance said coldly. And I dont want to live with someone who sees me as a burden.
Philippe had no choicehe left. A few weeks later their divorce was finalized.
**The encounter that changed everything**
Three years passed. Philippe still lived with his parents, trying to start anew, but luck evaded him. His job paid little; only tiny satisfactions brightened his days.
One spring evening, while walking down the street, he passed a café, paused at a window, and saw someone inside. It was Clémance.
But she was no longer the Clémance he knew. Before him stood a selfassured woman, neatly coiffed, wearing an elegant coat, a set of car keys in her hand.
Clémance? Philippe said, surprised.
She turned, recognized him, and smiled.
Philippe? Hello! How are you?
Uh fine, he stammered, unable to look away.
And you? she asked calmly.
Looks like youre doing even better Work as usual?
No, I opened my own flower studio. It was scary, but I found someone to help me.
Whos that?
A tall man emerged from the café, dressed in an expensive coat, and wrapped an arm gently around Clémance:
My love, a table just opened up, shall we go?
Philippe, meet Antoine, Clémance introduced him. Were glad to see you again.
Happy for you, Philippe murmured, feeling a bitter jealousy rise inside him.
Thank you, Clémance replied evenly.
Antoine nodded, and they entered the café together, leaving Philippe standing on the cold sidewalk.
Once he had said, I live with a frozen bud. Now that bud had finally blossomedjust not beside him.
