He runs into his ex-wife, and jealousy paints his cheeks a vivid green.
Philippe collides with his former spouse, and the envy makes his cheekbones turn literally emerald. He slams the refrigerator door so hard the contents rattle; one of the magnets glued to the door pops off with a dull clang and hits the floor.
Clémence faces him, pale, her fists clenched.
So, feeling better now? she says, lifting her chin.
Youre getting on my nerves, Philippe replies in a trembling voice, trying to stay composed. Whats this life? No joy, no future.
So its still all my fault? Clémence offers a bitter smile. Of course, nothing works out like you imagined.
Philippe wants to retort, but only raises his hand. He grabs a bottle of sparkling water, takes a sip straight from the neck, then slams it back onto the table.
Philippe, dont stay silent, Clémence says, her voice shaking. Tell me, for once, what really bothers you.
What can I say? he growls. Im tired of all this. To hell with it!
They stare at each other in silence for a few seconds. At last, Clémence inhales deeply and heads to the bathroom. Philippe collapses heavily onto the couch. The sound of running water leaks through the doorClémance has probably turned the tap on to drown her sobs. It no longer matters to him.
A life turned routine
Three years earlier they had married. First they lived in the flat Clémence inherited from her parents, then moved to a countryside house, putting the apartment in their daughters name. The house was spacious but never renovated, its furnishings still dating back years.
Initially Philippe was content: a central city location, convenient for work. Over time, however, everything began to irritate him. Clémence loved their family haven with its brown wallpaper and the old sideboard shed inherited. Philippe saw only a lack of change.
Clémence, be honest, he kept asking. Dont you want to replace that awful yellow linoleum floor? Update the interior, modernize it?
Philippe, we dont have any money for renovations right now, she replied 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 hed fallen for Clémence when she was a shy student, her sincere blue eyes and gentle smile had enchanted him. Hed told his friends, Shes a bud that will bloom someday. Now the flower seemed never to have blossomed, already withering.
Clémence didnt see herself as invisible. She simply lived as she thought fit, enjoying small pleasuresa mint tea, a new tablecloth, a quiet night with a book. To Philippe, all of that signaled stagnation and routine.
They werent rushing to divorcePhilippe didnt want to move back in with his parents, and living apart wasnt feasible at the moment. Clémences mother, Madeleine, always defended her daughter:
My son, Clémence is a good girl. Be grateful for the apartment.
Mom, you dont understand! Philippe snapped.
Her father merely nodded:
Let him figure it out.
At home, Philippe grew colder: Shes like a shadow, a grey ghost, he thought. During an argument he shouted:
I once saw in you a magnificent flower! And now? I live with a frozen bud
That night Clémence cried for the first time in months. As everything collapsed, Philippe whispered softly:
Clémence, Im exhausted.
From what? she asked.
From this life, this endless routine.
Clémence grabbed her bag and left. Philippe hoped shed return and ask him to stay, but she walked out calmly:
Maybe youd be better off truly living alone. Move out.
Philippe exploded:
I wont leave!
Its my parents apartment, Clémence said coldly. And Im done living with someone who sees me as a burden.
With no other option, Philippe left. A few weeks later their divorce was finalized.
The encounter that changed everything
Three more years passed. Philippe still lived with his parents, trying to restart his life, but luck stayed away. His job paid little; only tiny satisfactions brightened his days.
One spring evening, while strolling down the street, he passed a café and noticed someone through the window, causing him to stop. Clémence stood there.
But she was no longer the Clémance he remembered. In front of him was a selfassured woman with a neat haircut, an elegant coat, and a set of car keys in her hand.
Clémence? 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 in an expensive coat emerged from the café, gently looping his arm around Clémence.
My dear, a table just opened up, shall we go?
Philippe, meet Antoine, Clémence said to him. Were glad to see you again.
Happy for you, Philippe muttered, feeling a bitter pang of jealousy.
Thank you, Clémence replied evenly.
Antoine nodded, and they entered the café together, leaving Philippe standing on the cold sidewalk.
He had once said, I live with a frozen bud. The bud finally blossomedjust not beside him.
