He ran into his exwife, and jealousy flushed his cheeks a sickly green. Philippe slammed the refrigerator door so hard the contents shivered, and one of the magnets rippled loose with a dull clang, crashing to the floor.
Clémence stood opposite him, pale, fists clenched.
So, feeling better now? she asked, lifting her chin.
Youre getting on my nerves, Philippe answered, his voice quivering despite his effort to stay composed. Whats this life? No joy, no future.
So its still all my fault? Clémence offered a bitter smile. Of course nothing unfolds the way you imagined.
Philippe opened his mouth to reply, but only raised his hand. He grabbed a bottle of sparkling water, took a gulp straight from the neck, then slammed it back onto the table.
Philippe, dont stay silent, Clémence said, her voice trembling. Tell me, for once, what really bothers you.
What can I say? he grunted. Im tired of all this. To hell with it!
They stared at each other in silence for a few seconds. At last, Clémence inhaled deeply and headed toward the bathroom. Philippe slumped heavily onto the sofa. The sound of running water drifted through the doorshe had probably turned the tap on to drown her sobs. It no longer mattered to him.
A life turned routine
Three years earlier they had married. First they lived in the flat Clémence had inherited from her parents, then moved to a country house, putting the apartment in their daughters name. The house was spacious but never renovated, its furniture dating back years.
At first Philippe was content: a downtown location, convenient for work. Over time, though, everything began to irritate him. Clémence adored their family refuge 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 terrible floor with yellow linoleum? Modernize the interior?
Philippe, we 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 philosophy endure and wait!
Philippe often recalled how he had fallen for Clémence when she was a shy student, her sincere blue eyes and gentle smile captivating him. He used to tell friends, Shes a bud that will bloom. Now it seemed the flower never truly opened and was already wilting.
Clémence didnt see herself as invisible. She simply lived as she thought best, savoring small pleasuresa mint tea, a new tablecloth, a quiet evening with a book. Philippe perceived all of that as stagnation.
They werent rushing to divorcePhilippe didnt want to return to his parents, and living apart wasnt feasible yet. Clémences mother, Madeleine, always sided with her daughter:
My son, Clémence is a good girl. Be glad you have a flat.
Mom, you dont understand! Philippe snapped.
Her father merely nodded:
Let him manage on his own.
At home, Philippe grew colder: Shes like a shadow, a gray ghost, he thought. During an argument he shouted:
I once saw a beautiful flower in you! 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 endless routine, from this life.
Clémence gathered 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:
I wont leave!
Its my parents flat, Clémence said coldly. And I no longer want to live 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 years passed. Philippe still lived with his parents, trying to start anew, but luck eluded him. His job paid little; only tiny gratifications brightened his days.
One spring evening, while strolling down the street, he passed a café and stopped, noticing someone through the window. It was Clémence.
But she was no longer the Clémence he knew. She stood there confident, hair neatly styled, wearing an elegant coat, 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, wrapping his arm gently around Clémence:
My dear, a table just opened up, shall we?
Philippe, meet Antoine, Clémence introduced. We were happy to see you again.
Happy for you, Philippe muttered, feeling a bitter jealousy rise.
Thank you, Clémence replied evenly.
Antoine nodded, and the three entered the café together, leaving Philippe standing on the cold sidewalk. Once, he had said, I live with a frozen bud. The bud eventually blossomedjust not beside him.
He Bumps Into His Ex-Wife, and Jealousy Paints His Cheeks Green.
