Catastrophic Consequences

She got in her car, and launched an all out search. After going all over town looking for his truck, and having no luck, she went to the next town which was 5 miles away with the same results. After driving down every street in the little town, checking every motel, every lounge, and every grocery, she went home, to sleep. The next morning, she went to the next town over, from where she had stopped yesterday, which was where Stephen was, and after searching all morning, and into the late afternoon she finally spotted his truck at the motel where he was staying. It was just getting dark as she softly knocked on the door.

When Stephen opened the door, Calley almost fainted. His face was gaunt, and drawn. He hadn't shaved for days, his hair was unkempt, and his clothes looked like he hadn't washed them, but had been sleeping in them.

Calley was no raving beauty either, by now. She hadn't eaten much for the 10 days, and nothing at all the first 2 or 3 days. She was noticeably thinner, but she had at least put on a pleasant dress, and had put makeup, and lipstick on to try to make herself presentable to Stephen if she could find him.

"I asked you not to try to find me" was the first words from Stephen's mouth. "Please go away, Calley", he said.

"Stephen, I was so worried about you. I found your pistol missing from the garage, and I was terrified that I had caused you to do something terrible to yourself. Oh God, if that had happened, I'm sure I would have taken the other one and done the same thing to myself. I just couldn't have lived with the quilt of that, added to everything else I did to you. Please let me come in. I need so badly to talk to you."

Stephen stepped away from the door, to make room for Calley to come in. The room had a small kitchen, so Calley asked if they could sit at the table, and talk. As they sat down she reached for his hand to hold it while they talked, but Stephen suddenly held his hand high, and shook his head no. She almost broke down, but managed to swallow, and choke it off before she did. Then she started to speak.

"Stephen, I have thought long, and hard about what to say to you, and how to say it, so that you would get some idea of how very, very sorry I am for the terrible, sinful, hurtful thing I did to you with Randy. I know how awful I feel, knowing what I did, and knowing that I might lose you, but still, I am aware, that I have no idea how you must feel. I tried to pretend that it was me who walked in on you, to see how that would make me feel, but I know it's just not the same. I have several different subjects that I want to talk to you about, and I beg of you to just let me get this out without you saying anything until I am finished. Then, you can tell me whatever you wish, and I won't argue back with you."

Stephen just nodded for her to go ahead, with such a forlorn look on his face that Calley almost broke down again.

"Most men would want to know …WHY!!!. You said you didn't even want to know why, but I feel I have to tell you why I think I did this terrible thing, less you believe I did it just for fun, just because I thought it would be a hoot, no one would know, and I could have my little fling. I have gone over why, a million times since the day you left, and for a long time, there just was no explainable reason. What you said the day you left was all true as far as it went, about you not giving my a legitimate reason, but I can add a great deal of reasons to that for me not to cheat on you, of all people. You have been the most spectacular husband that any woman could ever hope for. You are strong, virile, handsome, smart, and a great lover, and you are a gentleman, and a gentle lover. You are considerate of my feelings in the bedroom, and everywhere else. You are generous with me, never questioning how much money I spent on things that you might not think are necessary, and even when we did argue over something, you were always considerate of my feelings, and never resorted to calling me any names, or saying anything that might make me think that you thought what I did was dumb. In other words, there is no reason that I can leave at your door for what I did. If there is a reason, it has to be laid at my door."

"Stephen, I have deduced that although I try not to show it, I am a terribly vain woman. I have been told that I was pretty, gorgeous, beautiful, a knockout, and other things by men, since I was 13 years old. I don't care if I, or any woman hears that, 10 million times, it is never enough, and she is always anxious to hear it again, and again. You and I married at age 23, and besides you, there have been many men, some who were lounge lizards, some who were church leaders, and everything in between, saying that I was all those things I just mentioned. Now, we are 10 years older than we were when we married, and quite naturally the compliments have slowed in the last few years. The older generation still might compliment me on my looks but the younger crowd views me as nearly middle aged, which I am. As many tributes as I am paid, I suppose I felt like I was nearing the age where they would stop, and I was getting panicky. Randy is now 25, and was only 23 when he first started servicing our pool, two years ago. From day one, Randy acted like he was totally smitten with me, a woman almost 10 years older than him. You were mostly always gone when he came during the day, and each, and every time he ever came here, he praised the way I looked, & the way I carried myself to the high heavens. I let my foolish ego, and pride step in, and take over my actions. Him praising my looks, soon got to where it wasn't enough. I started baking cookies, and cakes on the days that I knew he was coming so that he might compliment me on being a great cook, too. I started dressing like I was going out on a date on those days. All this was happening without my even thinking about that I was heading toward a terribly slippery slope. I didn't think it was possible for me to fall. When he saw that his praises were reaping rewards, although he couldn't compliment me any more times when he was here, he started coming here more often. He is scheduled to come just once a week, but he gradually increased that to 2, then 3 times a week, telling me that he just couldn't be around me enough. All of this without any extra charge for his services. Lately he never even takes his tools out of his truck but once a week. The other two visits, I started inviting him into the kitchen to chat, to eat my cookies, and cakes, and of course to praise the way I look. I did this without even realizing what was happening. We would laugh, and tell each other funny things that had happened to us. He is charming, and funny, and fun to talk to, and I slowly but surely, fell into his trap. I am not blaming him. He didn't make me do anything. He never forced anything on me. That Wednesday, the day you saw us, was one of his chat days. We both knew he was just coming to visit, but when he got here, he was despondent. He was standing by the sink in the kitchen, while I cut him a piece of Mississippi Mud cake. I knew that it was his favorite, as well as yours. When I asked him about why he looked so down, he told me that his little sister was sick, with some disease which I can't recall the name of now, and that the doctors said that they might lose her. He looked like he was about to cry. I turned him toward me, hugged him and consoled him, and kissed him on one cheek, then the other cheek, then pulled his head to me, and held him for long minutes. When he finally raised up and looked in my eyes, God help me, I leaned in to him and kissed him full on the lips. He looked startled when I released him. He stood for a moment, then said "I have loved you from the very first time I ever saw you." and he pulled my head in that time, and kissed me. Before I knew what was happening our mouths were open, kissing passionately like lovers. The only thing I can suppose is that when he kissed me with an open mouth after telling me that he loved me, my vanity stepped in saying that even though I was 33 years old, I had captured the heart of a much younger man. My beauty was irresistible. I don't even remember leaving the kitchen, or undressing. I remember him entering me, and since I was in such a highly aroused state, it was wonderful. At that moment I am so very, very ashamed to say that you didn't exist. You came in before we finished or reached an orgasm. I would like to think that when it was over that I would have been overcome with guilt, and called his company to ask that they send a different man to service our pool, from then on, but since it never happened, I will never know. I called them, to ask, after you left that day, to do just that, and they told me he had come in and quit, saying that he had found a better job. I suppose he thought that you might be after him. It amazes me that seeing it now, seeing how dirty, and sleazy it was on my part, it seemed so wonderful and right until you called my name, and I raised up and saw you. Stephen, words in the English language cannot express, nor convey my sorrow well enough, to really let you know how I feel about what I did. If you had done the same thing to me,

I would be so distraught, and feeling so betrayed that I don't know if I could ever forgive you. I pray though, that your love for me, even though I don't deserve your love, can overcome this evil, arrogant, egotistical attitude I had that led up to this event. I honestly don't know how you can forgive me for the event itself, but I pray you can, for I don't think I want to live without you."

With that, Calley buried her head in her crossed arms on the tale, and cried long, sobbing whales. Stephen sat across from Calley, looking at her

with the saddest expression possible on his face. He just sat, and waited for her to regain her composure before he spoke to her. He wanted to do exactly what she was doing, but held his feelings back, so that he could talk to her without breaking down. Finally Calley raised her head back up from the table, and looked at Stephen. He took a deep, sighing breath, and began to speak.

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Well, dear readers, what will Stephen do. I know that whichever way I go with this, I will get a few letters cursing me out for my choice, sooooo…. I ain't gonna make one. You are all invited to submit your own ending to my story. You have my permission. I saw a couple of other stories that the author did that with and had a half a dozen endings before it was over. That would be cool in this case, too.