He runs into his exwife, and jealousy flushes his cheeks a shade of green.
Philippe meets his former spouse, and envy literally turns his cheekbones green. He slams the refrigerator door so hard the contents shudder. One of the magnets glued to the door pops off with a dull clang and lands on the floor.
Clémence stands opposite him, pale, fists clenched.
So, feeling better now? she says, lifting her chin.
Youre getting on my nerves, Philippe answers, voice trembling despite his effort to stay composed. What a life this isno joy, no future.
So its all still my fault? Clémence offers a bitter smile. Of course, nothing turns out the way you imagine.
Philippe tries to reply, but only raises a hand. He cracks open a bottle of sparkling water, takes a gulp straight from the neck, then slams it back onto the table.
Philippe, dont stay silent, Clémence urges, her voice shaking. Tell me, for once, what really bothers you.
What to 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 takes a deep breath and heads to the bathroom. Philippe collapses heavily onto the couch. The sound of running water drifts through the doorshes 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 home was spacious but never renovated, its furniture dating back years.
Initially Philippe was content: the city centre was convenient for work. Over time, however, everything began to irk him. Clémence loved her family haven with its brown wallpaper and the old inherited sideboard. Philippe saw only a lack of change.
Clémence, be honest, he kept repeating. Dont you want to replace that dreadful floor with yellow linoleum? Modernise the interior?
Philippe, we dont have the money for renovations right now, she answered calmly. I dream of change too, but we have to wait for the bonuses.
Wait?! Thats your philosophyjust endure and wait!
He often recalled how he fell for Clémence when she was a shy student, her sincere blue eyes and gentle smile captivating him. He told friends, Shes a bud that will bloom. Now it seemed the flower never truly blossomed and was already wilting.
**Gift baskets**
Clémence 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 hurrying to divorcePhilippe didnt want to return to his parents, and living apart wasnt feasible at the moment. Clémences mother, Madeleine, always sided with her daughter:
My son, Clémence 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 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 cried. That very day everything collapsed, and Philippe whispered:
Clémance, Im exhausted.
From what? she asked.
From this endless routine, this life.
Clémance grabbed her bag and left. Philippe hoped shed return and beg 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 flat, Clémance said coldly. And I wont live with someone who sees me as a burden.
Having no other option, Philippe 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 stayed away. His job paid little; only tiny satisfactions brightened his days.
One spring evening, while strolling, he passed a café and froze when he saw someone through the window. It was Clémance.
She was no longer the Clémance he knew. Standing before him was a selfassured woman, neatly coiffed, wearing an elegant coat, a set of car keys in hand.
Clémance? Philippe blurted, 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 dear, a tables free, shall we go?
Philippe, meet Antoine, Clémence introduced. Were glad to see you again.
Happy for you, Philippe muttered, feeling a bitter envy stir inside.
Thanks, Clémance replied evenly.
Antoine nodded, and the three entered the café together, leaving Philippe alone on the cold sidewalk.
He once thought he was living with a frozen bud. That bud eventually blossomedjust not beside him.
