After he had stormed off in his Volvo and got home to a torrent of texts, he responded with a fusillade of his own. It was like a naval battle at close quarters, with no quarter given. Someone was going down.
He got in the last word. That was unusual, Perhaps he had gone too far. He need not have said some of the things he said. One particular insult was, in retrospect, very cutting.
He texted a partial rebuttal before he hit the sack. No response. He texted again. And again. Perhaps he had gone too far. Had she…? O God no. It didn’t bear thinking about.
He buried his head under the pillow and tried to sleep. Eventually he crashed. But the nightmares ….
He awoke at six in the morning. His mobile lit up. His arm flew across to grab it. It was from her. A volley of vitriol.
He had never felt so happy.