I Ran into My Ex-Wife and Nearly Turned Green with Envy
He didn’t know what to say, so he retreated into the bedroom and opened his laptop. But the thought kept gnawing at him:
“Where would I even go? Back to my parents? Things are strained enough with them already.”
The argument hung in the air, unresolved, and over the following days everything replayed in the same cycle:
petty quarrels about nothing, always circling back to the same root — his indifference to a wife he dismissed as a “plain little mouse,” mixed with the fear of losing the roof over his head.
Eventually, the tension boiled over. Oleg snapped and filed for divorce himself. “It’ll be on my terms, not hers,” he muttered stubbornly. “I still have my parents’ place — I’ll be fine.”
He packed his bags and moved in with Tamara and Igor, his mother and father, though without much enthusiasm. Lena, to his surprise, signed the divorce papers without protest.
A trip to the registrar’s office — and just like that, their marriage was over. Three years slipped by. Oleg was still living at his parents’ home. At first, he told himself:
“Just a couple of months to breathe, then I’ll get my life together — rent an apartment, meet someone new, build the future I deserve.” But the months turned into years.
His career stalled, his income barely covered small indulgences, and his ambitions dissolved into routine. His parents grew increasingly irritated: their grown son, already past thirty, still lived under their roof.
One chilly spring evening, after catching up with a friend, Oleg was walking home when he passed a cozy café.
Warm lights glowed from its windows, and he thought about stepping in to thaw out. But as he approached, he froze. Standing by the entrance was Lena.
The same Lena he’d left behind three years ago. Only now, she was different — her posture confident, her hair styled neatly, her clothes simple yet elegant.
She held a set of car keys in her hand, for a car that was clearly not cheap. “No way…” Oleg’s breath caught, and before he knew it, he was walking toward her. “Lena?” he called out.
She turned, recognition flickering in her eyes. Then she smiled. Not the timid, hesitant smile he remembered — this one was calm, assured.
“Hello, Oleg,” she said warmly. “It’s good to see you. How have you been?” “Fine… I guess,” he muttered, adjusting his scarf, suddenly self-conscious. “Looks like you’re doing well.”
“You could say that. I’m living the way I always wanted,” Lena replied without a trace of arrogance. “That’s… good. So, you’re still at the same job?” he asked awkwardly.
“No, I switched fields. I opened my own floral studio. I was terrified at first, but…” She smiled again. “Someone believed in me.” “Who’s that?” The question slipped out before he could stop it.
At that moment, a tall man in a tailored coat stepped out of the café. He wrapped an arm around Lena’s shoulders and said gently: “Love, the table’s ready. Shall we?”
Lena glanced at Oleg before introducing them. “This is Vadim. Vadim, this is Oleg.” Her smile was soft, touched with affection. “Well, Oleg, it really was nice running into you.
I hope you’re doing okay too.” Oleg swallowed hard, forcing a smile. “Yeah… I’m glad for you. Really.” “Thank you,” Lena said, her voice steady. “Take care of yourself.”
Vadim gave Oleg a polite nod, and together they disappeared through the glass doors. Oleg stood there, rooted to the spot, the cold wind cutting straight through his coat.
In his mind, a memory resurfaced — the cruel words he once spat at Lena:
“I thought you’d blossom into a flower, but you just withered before you could bloom.” And now, she had bloomed — just not with him.
Through the café windows, he could see Lena and Vadim talking, laughing, their faces alive with warmth.
And Oleg realized the truth with a sinking heart: it wasn’t just his evening that was ruined. It was the bitter recognition of a life that could have been — a chance he had thrown away.
As he turned and walked off into the night, he almost imagined catching his reflection in the glass: pale, tired, and tinted with the unmistakable green of envy.
