Atop the stained mahogany surface of a wooden table sat a half-empty teacup, the brownish liquid inside quickly losing its steam as its consumer let out a distracted sigh. The dramatic pause amidst her woeful tirade provided the abandoned coffee with just enough time to catch her eye once more, and she took a small sip, face crinkling with simultaneous deep thought and disgust. As she stared into the murky depths of her three quid pick-me-up, a sudden question crossed her mind.
“Is brown just another shade of red?” she wondered aloud.
“I think it’s orange.”
“Red, orange, whatever.” She waved a hand. “Colours are a spectrum. Red is a
spectrum. There’s scarlet, crimson, wine red, burgundy - my favourite...” Her voice trailed off. “What was I saying? Oh, right. There’s different shades of red. And I guess that’s why I thought we could move past those red flags, you know?”
“So you mean you finally left him?”
“Yeah. It was just too much.” She slumped into the weathered couch at her back, staring blankly out the window at the torrents of rain that were currently wreaking hell onto the streets of the city. “Honestly, I should have known from the start. He was way too nice.”
“Was it his personality?”
“No! He was perfect. Kind, funny, charismatic, all the positive adjectives you could possibly find in the dictionary. For a little while, I thought he was the one for me. I still do.”
“What went wrong?”
“Everything!” She threw her hands into the air, narrowly avoiding a fatal collision with a passing middle-aged man’s tea. “It all began when we moved in together. Dirty crockery everywhere. Laundry littered across the bathroom floor. An ant infestation.” She winced. “Not my proudest moment, finding that.”
“Then why did you stay together?”
“Well, you know, they were red flags, but they were more... pink? Not too bad. Excusable. Maybe even a little endearing, if you looked at it from a different perspective. At least that was what I thought. It’s just...” She pulled a face. “He was so perfect. But then things started to escalate.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I suppose our lifestyles just weren’t compatible. We had a few fights, and then some more, and - look, it got messy. Really messy. There were flying plates, broken glass, death threats... even murder attempts!” A fond smile crept across her face. “I still remember that one time with the bleach-”
“This is all hyperbole, right?”
“No.”
“Murder attempts? That’s more than a red flag. It’s a whole restraining order!”
She frowned defensively. “Nobody’s perfect.”
“Funny. I thought you said he was.”
“I’m not talking about him.” Her expression twisted into one of confusion. “There was
nothing wrong with him at all. He just couldn’t handle it.” “Then who...”
“I think you may have misunderstood.” Calmly, she lifted her cup and took another sip of her chilled coffee, eyes roving around the crowded interior of the cafe. Despite the hold grief still had on her at the loss of her latest romance, she was already back on her endless quest to find someone new. Someone who could finally love her, flaws and all. “I never said he was the red flag.”