It's a short story, this.

He was waiting for her at the car, looking like he meant business. She walked out of her house, smiled at him and said Hi. He just nodded.

Strike One.

They drove to the destination. He ordered the drinks. They lit cigarettes. She talked animatedly about her day. He looked around. She swayed to the music that played. He looked down in his drink. She played with her hair, he played with his phone. She excused herself to the bathroom.

Strike Two.

She came back to the table. He asked her something, she explained. He stormed out. She followed. They sat in the car, he drove in silence. She wept. Her face was full of tears, he said harsh things. He slapped her across the face, she wept. He said this can't be love that he felt. She said, it must be love for he can't find another who would feel this way. He drove off. She walked home.

Strike Three.

End of story?
or
Circle of life?