**Because of a chicken, I threw my husband out. I have no regrets.**
That morning, Elodie was exhausted. She had spent the entire early hours tidying the living room, hanging the laundry, picking up her sons toys and scrubbing the tiles. Finally she glanced at the oven: the roast chicken with golden potatoes was browning perfectly, filling the kitchen with a headspinning aroma.
Just ten more minutes, she murmured, setting the timer before heading to the bathroom to wipe the grout. Everything was going smoothlyuntil the front door slammed shut.
The kids must be back, she thought. But on the doorstep stood not Lucas or Camille, but her husband Julien, who had claimed to be in the garage since sunrise.
Wow, that smells amazing! he exclaimed, rubbing his hands together. Your roasted chicken always wins me over!
Call the kids for dinner, Elodie shouted as she turned back to the sink.
A minute later, bare feet pounded the floor, sneakers bounced in the hallway, and laughter erupted. Hearing a quarrel, Elodie rushed out, forgetting the timer.
Whats happening? she asked, still wearing gloves.
I want a drumstick! screamed Camille, ten.
Me too! added Lucas, eight.
There are only two, right? Elodie asked, puzzled.
No! Only ones left! Camille replied, stamping her foot.
Elodie walked over to the table. Sure enough, half of the chicken had vanished. Only the breasts and a few stray potatoes remained.
And dad? she pressed.
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 over. Again he had taken the best part, not for himself this time but for his friends. It wasnt selfishness any longer; it felt like betrayal.
Near the village square, on a bench, Julien was seated with his buddies, beers in hand, the chicken perched on his knees. They laughed, ate and licked their fingers.
Isnt that a bit much? Elodie snapped, eyes blazing.
Come back home, well talk later, Julien replied, embarrassed in front of his pals.
No, were talking now! You stole what I prepared for our children! Are you ashamed? Its not enough that you keep the prime cuts for yourself; now youre feeding your friends with what isnt yours?
Leave before I lose my temper, he said, grabbing her arm.
What are you doing? Elodie sputtered. Youre not just selfish, Julien, youre a thief. A thief who snatches his own kids food to fatten your drunk buddies!
Cut the drama, Élo, he growled, humiliated before his mates. It was a onetime thing.
A onetime thing? And the fruit? And my mothers caviar you devoured in a day? And the barbecue where you left the kids with burnt scraps while you gorged on the best pieces?
Elodie turned on her heel and went back inside.
That evening, when he returned, she was standing at the window.
You should see yourself, Julien sneered. Divorce over a chicken. We should put you on a reality show.
Im filing for divorce, she said coldly. You dont get it. Its not the chicken. Its your rudeness, your greed, and the fact you think only of yourself.
Where am I supposed to go? he mocked. Youre crossing the line.
At your mothers place. 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 house.
Two weeks later, the phone rang.
You were right, sighed his exmotherinlaw. He devours everything in my home. 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.
Well, good luck then. Ive turned the page on that glutton. And guess what I can finally breathe freely.
**Moral: Love lets us tolerate many things, but when selfishness dominates the table, it suffocates the very soul of the home.**
I Chased My Husband Away Over Chicken and I Don’t Regret a Thing
