Oliver slammed the fridge door, nearly sending the contents tumbling onto the shelves; a magnet clanged to the floor.
Lucy stood opposite him, pale, knuckles white as she clenched her fists.
Feeling better now? she said, lifting her chin in a provocation.
Youve really got under my skin, Oliver rasped, trying to keep his voice steady. Is this what life is? A dull, colourless march with no glimmer of hope?
So Im to blame again? Lucy replied with a rueful smile. Of course, nothing ever goes the way you want.
Oliver gritted his teeth, ready to retort, but waved his hand away. He cracked open a bottle of mineral water, swallowed a gulp, then slammed the empty bottle onto the table with a clatter.
Oliver, stop hiding, Lucys voice had a sharp edge of hurt. Tell me whats wrong with you.
Whats there to explain? he sneered. Youll never understand anyway. How long can I endure this hopelessness? Im done with everything!
They stared at each other in silence for a long moment. Lucy took a deep breath and headed for the bathroom. Oliver sank heavily onto the sofa. From behind the closed door came a loud splash of waterperhaps she had turned on the tap deliberately to drown her sobs.
He didnt care.
Three years earlier they had married and moved into a flat that Lucys parents had left her. Her mother and father, now retired, had relocated to a village and transferred the property to their daughter. The flat was spacious, but it still smelled of a bygone era: antique furniture, peeling wallpaper, and sections of scuffed linoleum.
At first Oliver didnt mind. The flat was in the heart of the city, the neighbourhood was lovely, and his office was just a short walk away. But the novelty soon wore off. Lucy felt comfortable in the family nest, while Oliver complained that the place was stuck in the past and that he felt suffocatingly cramped.
Lucy, admit it, he would prod. Doesnt this old décor bother you? Its time to replace the wallpaper, put in new flooring, bring in some modern touches.
Of course I want that, Lucy answered calmly. But we need to wait for the bonus or save up gradually.
Waiting again? Your whole strategy is to sit and wait! Oliver snapped.
Once Oliver bragged that hed discovered a budding idea that would one day blossom and amaze everyone. Now he believed that seed had long since died, never opening its petals.
Lucy lived for simple pleasures: a fresh cup of tea, an evening with a good book, a new kitchen towel. To Oliver those were the trappings of a stagnant life.
He never dared leave her, fearing a return to his own parents house, a relationship that had never been easy. Moreover, Lucys mother, Margaret, always sided with her daughter.
Son, youre being unreasonable, she would chide. Lucy is a wonderful, sensible girl. You live in her flat, why are you always dissatisfied?
Mother, you and Lucy are like two drops of water stuck in a stone age, Oliver retorted.
His father, John, would merely wave his hands. Let them sort it out themselves, Margaret.
Sometimes Oliver thought of Lucy as a shadow that still held him to the flat.
At last his patience snapped.
Lucy, I cant take this any longer, he whispered, standing by the window.
From what, exactly? she asked quietly, tears glimmering.
From this everyday drudgery! You spend all your time with pots and rags, and Im not willing to waste my life like that!
Without a word Lucy grabbed the trash bag, slammed the door, and left.
Oliver stayed, convinced she would soon return to beg him not to go. When she did come back, she wore an unexpected calm.
Perhaps its truly better for you to live apart, she said, detached. So pack your things.
Youll stay here alone while Im gone? Oliver protested. This is my home too!
Youre mistaken, Oliver, Lucy replied with a cold smile. This is your parents house.
A few weeks later he moved into his own parents home. They finalized their divorce.
Three years passed. Oliver kept living at his parents place, convincing himself that soon hed find his own flat and everything would fall into place. In reality, work offered no breakthroughs, new acquaintances never turned into lasting relationships, and his parents increasingly hinted that he was no longer a teenager but a grownup man.
One spring evening, returning home late, Oliver noticed a small café with soft lighting and gentle music spilling onto the street. He paused at the doorway.
Lucy stood there, but she was no longer the woman he remembered. She wore a sleek coat, her hair was expertly styled, she held car keys in one hand, and her eyes held a confidence Oliver had never seen before.
Lucy? he blurted.
She turned, recognized him in an instant, and smiled.
Hello, Oliver, she said evenly.
Hi You look amazing, he managed.
Thank you, she replied, a hint of pride in her tone. I finally live the way Ive always wanted.
Are you still at your old job? he asked.
No, I opened my own flower shop, she said, a note of triumph in her voice. It took a long time, but someone finally believed in me.
Who? Oliver demanded, though he wasnt sure why he asked.
A man stepped out of the café, wrapped an arm around Lucys shoulders, and said gently, Love, a tables free. Shall we go?
Lucy turned to Oliver. This is Vadim, and this is Oliver, she introduced, gesturing to both men.
Its nice to see you, Oliver, she added. I hope youre taking good care of yourself too.
Oliver nodded silently. His lips moved as if to say more, but the words caught in his throat. He watched Lucy take Vadims hand, smile, and disappear through the café doors. A bitter envy rose inside him.
He had once complained, Im living with a bud that never blossoms. Yet the bud had finally floweredjust not beside him.
In the end, Oliver learned that jealousy only keeps you rooted in the past, while letting go lets new growth flourish, even if its elsewhere. The true lesson was that happiness is not a possession to guard, but a garden to nurture, whether or not you are the one who waters it.
