Glenda was a woman who preferred the rhythm of her own world. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate excitement - she loved a good mystery novel, and the occasional power outage could provide some thrill - but her life, by and large, was a quiet affair. Her apartment was a haven of cozy blankets, fresh coffee, and a rather impressive collection of houseplants that were, surprisingly, still alive.
Her partner, Chad, however, was a walking chaos machine. If life were a soap opera, Chad was the star, constantly embroiled in wild, dramatic plots that no one cared to watch. He had a talent for making every mundane detail of life seem like a public scandal. His most recent project: the affair.
Chad wasn't subtle. There were the texts that pinged loudly at all hours of the night (Glenda knew they were from Tiffany, a name he'd casually mentioned in passing), the sudden "business trips" that mysteriously involved trips to places with no Wi-Fi, and the perfume scent that followed him like a breadcrumb trail from the moment he returned home. Glenda didn't mind, though. She had better things to do.
One Thursday afternoon, Chad arrived home wearing a suspiciously tight smile and holding an extravagant bouquet of flowers that could only be described as "worn-out carnival colors."
"Glenda!" Chad practically shouted, his arms flailing with the flowers. "I got you something special."
Glenda, who was rearranging her cactus collection on the windowsill, glanced over her shoulder. "Oh, great," she said, clearly unimpressed. "Is it a bouquet for me, or another one for Tiffany? I hope she likes neon pink."
Chad faltered, eyes darting around like a child caught with a hand in the cookie jar. "No, no, these are for you! Just... for you."
"Mm-hmm." Glenda gave him a polite smile, but her attention shifted back to her cactus, which had been leaning a little too much to the left. "You're going to need a bigger vase for that one. It looks like it's been to a circus."
Chad's face twitched. "It's not about the flowers, Glenda. It's about... about my heart! I messed up! I've been seeing someone else. I'm so sorry!"
Glenda paused for a moment, considering this. Then she placed the cactus down with the care one gives to fragile things, turned slowly, and looked Chad dead in the eyes.
"Yeah," she said, exhaling with the weight of someone who had already lived through this scene about a hundred times. "You've been seeing Tiffany, right? And I'm sure you told her all about the dance class you took with Brenda and Karen? Or was it just a yoga retreat this time? Oh, no, wait, that was last month. I can't keep track of all your 'new hobbies.'"
Chad's face crumbled like a house of cards in a breeze. He dropped the bouquet, which hit the floor with a pathetic thud. "You're not upset? You're not angry? Don't you care?"
Glenda blinked, processing the question with all the urgency of someone trying to recall if they'd locked the door before leaving. "Upset? Chad, darling, you've been seeing other people for ages. You do realize that, right? This isn't some big revelation. It's just another Tuesday. And honestly? I'm kind of bored. This whole dramatic routine is wearing thin."
Chad, having run out of theatrics, gaped at her, unable to comprehend how she wasn't reacting the way he expected. "But... but you've been putting up with this for months! Aren't you... don't you want to... leave me or something?"
"Leave you?" Glenda laughed softly, shaking her head. "I'm not going anywhere, Chad. You're free to do whatever you like. Honestly, I've got too much to focus on - like rearranging my bookshelf by color and attending the plant swap this weekend. You know how it is. It's a full schedule."
With that, Glenda turned away from him and picked up a cup of chamomile tea she'd set aside earlier. She took a slow sip, letting the tension hang in the air like an unfinished chord.
Chad, meanwhile, stood frozen in place, unsure whether to stay and plead his case or just flee into whatever new chaos he could find.
The next morning, Glenda woke up early, made a breakfast of avocado toast (because it was trendy, but also because it was delicious), and sat by the window, watching the early morning sun filter through her curtains.
Chad, still a mess from the previous night, was sprawled on the couch, covered in glitter (from an ill-advised "performance art" project he'd gotten himself involved in). Glenda glanced over at him, but only for a moment before turning her attention back to the warm cup in her hands.
"I'm running out for some groceries, Chad. There's a sale on quinoa at the market." She smiled to herself, feeling the freedom of that simple sentence. "Also, you might want to clean up the glitter. It's all over the rug."
She scribbled a note on the kitchen counter, next to his untouched coffee mug: "Gone for groceries. The glitter is on you."
As she left, the door clicking shut behind her, Glenda didn't feel anger or frustration. She didn't feel heartbroken. She felt... light. She strolled down the street, already planning her weekend - a pottery class, a trip to the farmer's market, and, of course, a quiet evening with her plants. She was free from the drama, free from the constant chaos Chad insisted on dragging into her life.
By the time she returned home, her arms full of quinoa and other grocery essentials, the apartment felt oddly quiet. Glenda unlocked the door and stepped inside, only to find Chad packing his things. He didn't even look up as she entered.
"I'm leaving, Glenda," he muttered, his voice low, his bags hastily thrown together in the corner. "You're right. You deserve better than me. This... this glitter storm is over."
Glenda, unfazed, set her bags down on the kitchen counter and went to grab a bottle of kombucha from the fridge. She sipped it casually as she glanced over at Chad. "Good for you," she said, as if discussing the weather. "I'm sure you'll find someone who's more... interested. But hey, good luck cleaning up that glitter, okay? It's all over the place."
Chad, with a final glance at her, grabbed his bags and shuffled out the door, his glittery exit only adding to the absurdity of it all.
Just as she finished her kombucha and was about to settle into the evening with a good book, the doorbell rang. Glenda, already at peace with the day, opened the door to find none other than Chad's mother, Marlene.
"Marlene!" Glenda greeted, her voice almost too cheery for the occasion. "What brings you by?"
Marlene stood on the doorstep, arms crossed, looking flustered. "Glenda, I'm here to talk some sense into you. You can't just let Chad leave like that! He's a good boy! Yes, he's made mistakes, but... but..." Marlene faltered, clearly not expecting Glenda to be so calm.
"Oh, Marlene, darling," Glenda said with a smile, stepping aside to let her in. "You've caught me at a good time. I've just finished reading about the emotional lives of succulents. It's fascinating, really. Would you like some tea?"
Marlene's frown deepened as she stepped inside, but when she saw Glenda's relaxed demeanor and the calm atmosphere of the apartment, it was hard to keep up the anger. The plants were thriving, the space smelled of freshly brewed tea, and Glenda - despite her son's endless drama - was doing just fine.
"You know, I never really appreciated how much peace you had here, Glenda," Marlene admitted, lowering her arms and letting out a sigh. "You're... you're not what I expected."
Glenda poured her tea with a serene smile. "Well, Marlene, sometimes peace is just what's needed. Now, would you like to stay for dinner? I've got quinoa."
And as they sat together, sipping tea and chatting about everything and nothing, Glenda realized she'd gotten exactly what she wanted: no drama, no chaos - just a peaceful life. And if that meant Chad's mother occasionally stopping by to check on her, well, that was just another part of her quiet, glitter-free world.
