He crossed paths with his ex-wife, and jealousy turned his cheeks green.
James met his ex-wife, and envy visibly darkened his face. He slammed the fridge door so hard the contents rattled. One of the magnets popped off with a dull thud and hit the floor.
Eleanor stood across from him, pale, her hands clenched into fists.
“Feel better now?” she asked, lifting her chin.
“You get on my nerves,” James replied, voice trembling despite his effort to stay calm. “What kind of life is this? No joy, no future.”
“So, its still my fault?” Eleanor gave a bitter smile. “Of course, nothing lives up to your dreams.”
James opened his mouth, then simply waved a hand. He grabbed a bottle of sparkling water, took a swig straight from the neck, and thumped it back onto the table.
“James, dont just sit there silent,” Eleanor said, her voice shaky. “Tell me, for once, whats really eating at you.”
“Whats the point?” he muttered. “Im just tired of it all. To hell with it.”
They stared at each other in silence for a moment. Finally, Eleanor took a deep breath and walked to the bathroom. James slumped onto the sofa. The sound of running water trickled through the doorno doubt Eleanor had turned it on to hide her tears. But it didnt matter to him anymore.
*A Life Fallen into Routine*
Three years earlier, theyd married. First, they lived in Eleanors flat, inherited from her parents, then moved to a countryside house, putting the flat in their daughters name. Their home was spacious but dated, filled with furniture from years gone by.
At first, James was contentcentral location, convenient for work. But over time, everything began to grate on him. Eleanor loved her “family refuge” with its brown wallpaper and inherited sideboard. James saw only stagnation.
“Eleanor, be honest,” hed say. “Dont you want to rip up that awful linoleum? Modernise the place?”
“James, we cant afford renovations right now,” shed reply calmly. “I want change too, but well have to wait for bonuses.”
“Wait?! Thats your philosophyendure and wait!”
James often remembered falling for Eleanora shy student then, her sincere blue eyes and gentle smile charmed him. Hed told friends, “Shes a bud, still blooming.” But now it seemed the flower had never opened, already wilting.
Eleanor didnt think herself invisible. She simply lived as she saw fit, finding joy in small thingsa cup of mint tea, a new tablecloth, a quiet evening with a book. James saw only monotony.
They didnt rush the divorceJames refused to move back with his parents, and separate living wasnt an option. Eleanors mother, Margaret, always took her side:
“My boy, Eleanors a good girl. Be grateful for the flat.”
“Mum, you dont understand!” James would snap.
His father just shrugged. “Let him sort himself out.”
At home, James grew colder. “Shes like a shadow, a grey ghost,” he thought. During one argument, he shouted:
“I thought youd bloom into something beautiful! Now? Im stuck with a frozen bud.”
For the first time in months, Eleanor cried.
That same night, everything fell apart. James muttered, “Im exhausted.”
“By what?” she asked.
“By this life. This endless routine.”
Eleanor picked up her bag and left. James hoped shed return, beg him to stay. Instead, she said calmly:
“Maybe you should live alone. Move out.”
James exploded. “Im not leaving!”
“Its my parents flat,” Eleanor replied coldly. “And I wont stay with someone who sees me as a burden.”
With no choice, James left. Weeks later, the divorce was final.
*The Encounter That Changed Everything*
Three years passed. James still lived with his parents, trying to rebuild, but luck eluded him. His job paid little, offering only small satisfactions.
One spring evening, walking past a café, he spotted someone through the window and froze. Eleanor sat there.
But she wasnt the Eleanor hed known. This was a confident womanhair styled, an elegant coat, car keys in hand.
“Eleanor?” James said, stunned.
She turned, recognised him, and smiled. “James? Hello! How are you?”
“Uhfine,” he stammered, unable to look away. “You seem better. Work treating you well?”
“No, I opened my own flower shop. It was terrifying, but I found someone to support me.”
“Who?”
A tall man in an expensive coat stepped out, slipping an arm around Eleanor. “Darling, tables ready?”
“James, this is Edward,” Eleanor said. “It was nice seeing you.”
“Happy for you,” James murmured, bitterness twisting inside.
“Thank you,” she replied softly.
Edward nodded, and they walked into the café, leaving James on the cold pavement.
Once, hed said, “I live with a frozen bud.” But the bud had bloomedjust not for him.
*Sometimes, the dream we abandon is the one that flourishes without us.*
