He runs into his exwife, and jealousy paints his cheeks a sickly green.
Philippe slams the refrigerator door so hard that its contents shake, and one of the magnets attached to the door pops off with a dull clang, falling to the floor.
Clémence stands opposite him, pale, fists clenched.
Alright, feeling better now? she asks, lifting her chin.
Youre getting on my nerves, Philippe replies, his voice trembling despite his effort to stay composed. What kind of life is this? No joy, no future.
So its still all my fault? Clémence answers with a bitter smile. Obviously nothing turns out the way you imagine.
Philippe tries to retort, but only raises a hand. 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, Clémence says, her voice quivering. 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. Finally, Clémance inhales deeply and heads toward the bathroom. Philippe collapses heavily onto the sofa. 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 Clémance inherited from her parents, then they moved to a countryside house, putting the apartment in their daughters name. Their home was spacious but unrenovated, furnished with pieces from bygone years.
At first Philippe was content: a centralcity location, convenient for work. Over time everything began to irritate him. Clémance loved their family refuge with its brown wallpaper and the old sideboard shed inherited. Philippe saw only a lack of change.
Clémance, be honest with me, he kept urging. Dont you want to replace that dreadful floor with yellow linoleum? Update the interior, make it modern?
Philippe, we simply dont have the money for renovations right now, she replied calmly. I too dream of change, but we have to wait for the bonuses.
Wait?! Thats your philosophyjust endure and wait!
He often recalled how he fell for Clémance when she was a shy student, her sincere blue eyes and gentle smile enchanting him. Hed tell friends, Shes a bud that will blossom later. Now he felt the flower had never truly bloomed and was already withering.
Clémance didnt see herself as invisible. She lived the way she thought best, enjoying small pleasuresa mint tea, a new tablecloth, a quiet evening with a book. Philippe interpreted all this as stagnation and monotony.
They werent rushing into divorcePhilippe didnt want to return to his parents house, and living apart wasnt feasible at the moment. Clémances mother, Madeleine, always sided with her daughter:
My son, Clémance is a good girl. Be grateful for the apartment.
Mom, you dont understand! Philippe snapped.
The father merely nodded:
Let him figure it out.
At home, Philippe grew colder: Shes like a shadow, a gray 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 actually wept. The day everything collapsed, Philippe whispered,
Clémance, Im exhausted.
Exhausted from what? she asked.
From this life, from this endless routine.
Clémance grabbed her bag and left. Philippe hoped she would return and ask him to stay, but she walked out calmly:
Maybe its better if you truly live alone. Move out.
Philippe exploded:
Im not leaving!
Its my parents apartment, Clémance replied coldly. And I dont want to live with someone who sees me as a burden.
With no other option, he went away. A few weeks later their divorce was finalized.
**The meeting that changed everything**
Three years passed. Philippe still lived with his parents, trying to start anew, but luck never favored him. His job paid little, and only tiny glimmers of satisfaction lit his days.
One spring evening, while strolling down the street, he passed a café and froze when he saw someone through the window. It was Clémance.
But she was no longer the Clémance he knew. She stood there confident, hair neatly styled, a sleek coat on, 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? Doing well? 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?
From the café emerged a tall man in an expensive coat, wrapping an arm gently around Clémance.
My dear, a table just opened up, shall we go?
Philippe, meet Antoine, Clémence introduced. Were glad to see you again.
Happy for you, Philippe murmured, a bitter jealousy bubbling inside.
Thank you, Clémance replied evenly.
Antoine nodded, and the three stepped into the café, leaving Philippe standing on the cold sidewalk.
Once he had said, I live with a frozen bud. That bud eventually blossomedjust not beside him.
He Bumps Into His Ex-Wife, and Jealousy Turns His Cheeks Green.
