The cold, hard blows rain on my body like icy hailstones. The fists thumping harder and harder, building up a painful rhythm.

I hold my hands up resigned to receive the hits and to protect my face or at least my eyes but an unlucky uppercut still smashes into my lip. The metallic taste of irony trickles into my mouth. I’m bleeding I realise and drop my guard for a split second.

At that exact moment my opponent’s hand forces itself through my defenses and lands directly on my nose. I hear the bone crunching like gravel under a car’s wheel. My eyes start watering. My mouth receives the salty mucus and it mixes with the blood. This tastes like shit. Surely the fight has to stop now?

But no, the fight intensifies now with kicking. My shins take the brunt of it, shooting sharp needles of torment into my legs. I collapse onto the floor and curl up.

Eventually the attack is over. Lying on the cold tiles, my eyes swollen shut, I hear a pinging next to me.

She screams “Take your ring back. I want a divorce!”