“Well, that’s very symbolic.”
Geoffrey frowned at the shattered wine glass on the floor. Natalie leaned in towards him, getting in his face. “Don’t fucking start” she hissed.
“it’s just so… appropriate. You’re breaking up with me, and then you break a glass.”
Natalie’s scowl would have been enough to make any ordinary man think twice, but Geoffrey pressed on regardless. “or maybe it doesn’t represent our relationship, maybe it’s your heart, that I broke by not being present enough.”
Natalie erupted. “Shut up! Just fucking shut up about symbolism for five fucking seconds!We’re not in one of your stupid fucking stories! This is real life! I am really breaking up with you! Our relationship is really over! Forget about the bloody glass!” She raised her hand to slap him across the face but stopped herself just in time.
The rest of the pub was staring now, but Geoffrey didn’t even notice, so lost in his reverie now that she was little more than background noise. “And now it’s broken in to pieces, shards everywhere, and if I’m not careful I could hurt myself on them.”
“Too fucking right pal” said Natalie, hefting an ashtray off the bar.
“But the way they sparkle in the low light, the pieces are still beautiful, just like y–”
“Write a fucking poem when you get out of hospital” said Natalie, and brought the ashtray down on Geoffrey’s left temple.