**Because of a chicken, I threw my husband out. And I dont regret it.**
That morning, Elodie was exhausted. Shed spent the entire day tidying the living room, hanging the laundry, picking up the kids toys, and scrubbing the tiles. Finally, she glanced at the oven: the roast chicken with its golden potatoes was looking perfect, filling the kitchen with a headspinning aroma.
Just ten more minutes, she muttered, setting the timer before hurrying to the bathroom to clean the grout. Everything was going smoothly until the front door slammed shut.
The kids must be home, she thought. But standing on the threshold wasnt Lucas or Camilleit was her husband Julien, who was supposed to have been in the garage all morning.
Oh, that smells divine! he exclaimed, rubbing his hands. Your roast chicken never fails!
Call the kids for dinner, Elodie said, turning back to the sink.
A minute later, tiny bare feet pounded the floor, sneakers flew into the entryway, and laughter erupted. Hearing a quarrel, Elodie stepped out, forgetting the timer.
Whats happening? she asked, her hands still gloved.
I want a drumstick! shouted Camille, ten.
Me too! added Lucas, eight.
There are two, right? Elodie replied, bewildered.
No! Theres only one left! Camille protested, stamping her foot.
Elodie walked over to the table. Indeed, half the chicken had vanished. Only the breasts and a few solitary potatoes remained.
And dad?
He left. He took half the chicken and went, Lucas grumbled.
Elodie grabbed her phone and dialed Julienno answer. She snatched the keys and stormed out, fury bubbling. Again! she thought. Hed taken the best piece, not for himself but for his friends. This was no longer selfishness; it was betrayal.
Near the village square, on a bench, Julien sat with his pals, beers in hand, the chicken on his lap. They laughed, ate, and licked their fingers.
Isnt that a lot? Elodie snapped, eyes blazing.
Come home, well talk later, Julien replied, embarrassed in front of his buddies.
No, were talking now! You stole what I prepared for our children! Are you ashamed? Its not enough to hoard the prime cuts for yourself; now youre feeding your mates with what isnt yours?
Leave before I lose it, he said, grabbing her arm.
What are you doing? Elodie scoffed. Youre not just selfish, Julien; youre a thief. A thief who pilfers his own kids food to fatten his drunken friends!
Cut the drama, Elo, he muttered, humiliated. It was just once.
Once? What about the fruit? The caviar my mother gave you that you devoured in a day? The barbecue where you left the kids with burnt scraps while you feasted on the best pieces?
Elodie turned on her heel and walked back inside.
That evening, when he returned, she was at the window.
You should see yourself, Julien sneered. Divorce over a chicken. We should put you on a talk show.
Im filing for divorce, she replied, voice icecold. You dont get it. Its not the chicken. Its your crudeness, your greed, and your constant selfabsorption.
Where will I go? he mocked. Youre overstepping.
To your mothers. The one who taught you that everything good belongs to you. Let her share it now.
Julien left, convinced Elodie was bluffing. The next day she filed the papers. He spent the night at his mothers.
Two weeks later, the phone rang.
You were right, sighed his exmotherinlaw. He devours everything at my place. I buy chocolates, he takes one, and the rest disappears by evening. I thought you were exaggerating, but yesterday he even stole the last drop of water from the kettle without asking.
You want me to take him back? Elodie asked, surprised.
No just vent, I guess.
Good luck then. Ive turned the page on that glutton. And guess what I finally breathe freely.
*Lesson: Love can make us tolerate a lot, but when selfishness dominates the table, it chokes the soul of the home.*
