Three Choices

This is a short story with no sex to speak of. It is not autobiographical and obviously total fiction. As the author, I have the right for my characters to behave exactly as I want them to behave. If you disagree, write your own version of this little story and post it on Literotica. You have my full permission.

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I awakened in a cold sweat. The nightmare that caused a strong feeling of dread, disaster and tragedy all rolled up in the worst feeling in my 32 years. I slowly pulled the covers back so as not to disturb my beloved sleeping wife and left the bedroom to go to the kitchen for a cold drink. This activity caused the sleep cobwebs to slowly leave my brain. Unfortunately, the state of full consciousness was worse than the nightmare.

I looked at the kitchen clock, four AM, five hours from my meeting with Vito Caprese, the Miami Godfather. I knew the meeting would change my life forever; I just didn't know the full extent of how much. I was at the very end of my rope financially. The house had a second mortgage that my wife Peggy didn't know about. My car, and her car, had loan payoffs larger than they were worth. Six credit cards were maxed out. All the unpaid personal loans from friends and family were just hanging out there like malevolent spirits.

The truth is that I am a weak, useless excuse for a man due to my huge gambling addiction. When I had a little money and a lot of credit, I would bet on anything, football, baseball, basketball. Hell, I even bet on tennis matches. In addition to all my legit debts, I owe the Miami Godfather, Vito, one hundred and eighty-seven thousand dollars in personal markers. I naively thought I was dealing with the friendly neighborhood bookie, not the Mafia crime syndicate.

I sat at the kitchen table, consuming way too much coffee, and feeling sorry for myself, until I decided the only way out was to commit suicide. I had a $500,000 life insurance policy with a double indemnity clause that would solve the money problem for Peggy. I would just go out on the Interstate and drive into an abutment with my cell phone in my hand. Problem solved.

With that I felt a great weight lifted from my shoulders. Crazy as that sounds, it's the truth. I had arrived at the only way to atone for my weak character that put me and my little family in this predicament. Peggy is a beautiful woman, and we had put off having children, so she will be able to find a replacement husband easily. Hopefully one without a gambling addiction.

Just as I glanced at the clock that showed ten minutes to seven, Peggy called down the stairs, "Hey, honey. Are you in the kitchen?"

"Yep, I've just put the coffee on," I lied. I knew she wouldn't be down in time for me to have a fresh pot brewing.

When she sat down at the table with a fresh cup of coffee, I looked at her, and a flood of memories hit me. She was so beautiful, so much so it was a miracle that I was able to win her heart with all the competition. When we first met, I was a senior at UF in Gainesville, and she was a sophomore. As shallow as it seems, my decision to stay in school for my masters in computer science was mostly so I could be with Peggy Owens. We had all the angst that goes with a college romance. We broke up twice, and made up, over silly things. She was totally adamant that her cherry would remain intact for her wedding night. Every time I pressed her for sex she told me it was non-negotiable and she really meant it. We settled for hand jobs and a rare blow-job until our wedding night.

In talking with my male and female friends, I realized how rare it was to have a virgin bride. During the honeymoon in Cancun, we had great fun fucking like there was no tomorrow. She brought a copy of "The Joy of Sex" and we worked our way almost halfway through it. We returned to Miami as Mr. and Mrs. Andrew Carter

All of this flashed through my mind as I gazed on her gorgeous face. She had the largest, bluest, eyes that were set just a bit wider than what would be considered normal. Uncharacteristically for a healthy male, it was her eyes that most men looked at first, even though her chest was magnificent.

She broke my reverie by asking "Honey, what time is your big, important meeting this morning?"

"Peggy, I think I've told you a dozen times, nine o'clock at La Quercia restaurant."

"Are you sure? That is one of the fanciest places in Miami, and I don't think they serve breakfast."

I know my voice was a bit testy when I replied, "The meeting is with the owner. He has a suite on the second floor."

Her already large eyes widened "Don't bite my head off. It's just that you haven't told me why you are meeting with a restaurant owner and why I have to go with you."

I hoped I put the right amount of contrition in my voice when I replied, "Sweetheart, please forgive me. It's because this meeting has the potential of changing our lives completely. It is very complicated, and I really need you to support me in this. Can you please dress in your best clothes and do your magic with your make-up and hair? The man we are meeting has a keen eye for the ladies, and maybe the meeting's outcome will be more favorable for us if you put him under your feminine spell."

Peggy was not overly vain, but she is not stupid either. She has used her beauty to her advantage more than once in the past. I was hoping that she could give me an edge on negotiating with Vito. That was just another example of my callowness in trying to play in the big leagues. I was just another loser to Vito.

Peggy was a walking wet dream when she came downstairs in time to make our nine o'clock meeting. I had a lump in throat and a feeling of panic caused by knowing the day was not going to have a positive outcome.

It was five minutes to nine when we pulled under the canopy in front of La Quercia. Two very large men were waiting to escort Peggy and me inside. They did not hide their lascivious looks at Peggy. They ignored me as they led her to the elevator just inside the foyer of the restaurant. The elevator was crowded with the bulk of the goons. They both took advantage of the propinquity to rub against my wife's ass and tits. I could only watch Peggy's face as she endured the insult. My manhood was inconsequential to those gorillas; they had the upper hand and knew it.

The elevator door open directly into a large room lavishly and tastelessly furnished in a style that resembled the Trump Tower Presidential suite, or what I imagined it would be.

Although I had never met him, the swarthy rather stocky man with a receding hair line standing in front of a massive desk had to be the Miami God Father.

He had a half smile, almost a smirk, when he said, "Please come in and have a seat". He indicated two chairs about ten feet from the desk. "Peggy, you are much more beautiful than I expected. Andy, you are a lucky man."

His use of our first names, in the diminutive, was a surprise. It was as if he had done research on us in advance of this meeting.

The atmosphere in the room was thick. Vito was obviously calling the shots, and I really didn't know what to do or say. I didn't believe pleading and appealing to his sense of mercy would get me anywhere. I took the easy way out by keeping my mouth shut and hopeing for the best.

Vito looked at my shaken wife. "Peggy, I have a feeling that old Andy here hasn't discussed with you the circumstances that prompted this little get-together."

Peggy tried to pull herself together and answered with a drawn out, "Noooooo, I haven't the slightest idea what is going on here." She shifted her attention to me with a look that she reserved for when I forgot to take out the garbage, or said something that she really didn't like. The fact she didn't say anything more confirmed that she didn't know why we were there and indicated to me she was intimidated by Vito. I couldn't blame her, I was seriously intimidated myself.

Vito looked at my wife and said, "Sweet Peggy, it is time that you know exactly to whom you are married. Andy here has a problem, a very serious problem. He is the world's worst gambler. He has gambled away everything you and he own.

The house, your cars, all mortgaged to the hilt. Also, he is into me for one hundred and eighty-seven thousand dollars."

Peggy turned and looked straight at me, "Andrew! What have you done to us?"

I sat there like the worthless asshole that I was. I had no excuse, nothing to say, nothing to make Peggy understand how I got in this horrible condition. I just looked at my shoes while tears streamed down my face.

Vito actually walked over to me and put his hand on my shoulder like a kindly uncle.

"Andy, what can I say? You are in a real fix; albeit of your own making. But you have to look at this from my position. I have a certain status that has to be upheld. In my business I can't just write off your indebtedness. That is just not going to happen. So, what to do?

I looked up at him. My fate was in his hands. In a perverse way, I fully understood his position, maybe even better than my own. Ever shred of my manhood, of my self-esteem, was gone. I would do anything, literally anything, to get out of this horrific mess.

"Andy, I have prepared for this meeting. I had my accounts look at your financial situation, and frankly, the hole you've dug yourself is pretty deep. However, I believe in letting a man choose his fate. I'm going to give you three choices.

Vito walked around the desk and reached in a drawer and pulled out a Colt 45, 1911 automatic.

God, was he going to shoot me? I involuntarily threw my hands up and tried to make as small a target as I could. "NO please don't shoot me."

Vito laughed out loud. "Andy, you really are pathetic. I'm not going to shoot you."

He ejected the magazine and thumbed the cartridges on his desk and put the empty magazine back into the gun.

Choice number one—you take this empty 45, walk six blocks west to the Nations Bank and get my money. You have about a 10% chance of success and a 90% chance of being shot by bank security.

Choice number two--You walk out of here, get in your car and drive down I-95 with your cell phone in your hand at 75 miles per hour swerve off the road into an abutment. Yes, I know you have a $500,000.00 life insurance policy, with a double indemnity clause. The one million will satisfy my debt, and Peggy will have enough to carry on her life."

I was taken aback by the fact that Vito had come up with the very solution that I was thinking about earlier. Maybe that was the best for everybody. I put myself in this ghastly fix, and this is the only way to get out of it. Although maybe I should wait for choice number three before accepting my death as a viable solution.

Vito walked over to Peggy who was in a near catatonic state after all she had heard in the last few moments.

He sat on the arm of her chair and twirled a strand of her luscious hair. "Maybe Peggy can save your life, if she thinks it is worth saving."

Peggy, my darling wife, turned her tearstained face up to look Vito directly in the eye. "I will do anything to save my husband. Without him my life is over as well."

Vito stood up, walked back to his desk. He sat on the edge and in a serious tone, said, "Andy, if Peggy agrees to come with me today, right now, and live with me for six months as my mistress, and I will give you an amount of cash to satisfy all your outstanding debts. My accountants have placed that amount as a little under forty thousand. That will pay your house mortgages, your car loans, and your personal debts to your friends and family. I will forgive the amount you owe me as well. All I ask is that Peggy come to me of her own free will and live with me as my mistress for six months."

My emotions were off the chart! To be debt free; to have a new chance at a normal life. But, what about Peggy?

Vito walked over to the elevator, turned, and addressed Peggy and me.

"I'm going to leave you two to talk over the choices and make your decision. I'll be back in half an hour."

When the elevator door closed I threw my arms around Peggy and sobbing I told her that I loved her more than my own life. I said, "Sweetheart, I will choose one or two over three."

She pulled my arms away from her, stood up and with a loud and resolute voice said, "You fucking idiot, you are the most pathetic piece of shit I've ever had the misfortune to know. But, damn it; you are my piece of shit. I will go with Vito; you will take his money and get yourself back on your feet. And, God Damn you, if you even put a nickel in a slot machine, I will never speak to you again. You got that, you asshole!"

I fell to the floor and wrapped my arms around my precious wife's legs. I was so overcome with love for her and loathing for myself, I couldn't speak. I was so unworthy of her forgiveness and love that I was reduced to a whimpering, slobbering wreck.

We stayed that way until we heard the elevator doors open.

Vito strode into the room full of confidence that he would get exactly what he wanted.

The two goons that we first met carried me out of the room. Before the elevator door slid shut, I looked over my shoulder to see Vito embrace Peggy and kiss her deeply.

A mousy looking man met the elevator and handed me a cashier's check for 40 thousand.

I must have driven home, but I have no memory of how. Over the next few weeks I had the bitter-sweet experience of paying back loans to my good friends and my family; also the house mortgages and car loans. Every night when I went to bed in the lonely house, I was tormented with fabricated images of Peggy and Vito together. What would she be like in six months?

My life was miserable. I was constantly reminded of my lonesome life and that I was totally to blame. One thing I did not do was gamble. I got physically ill when I even thought of placing a bet on anything.

I tried to contact Peggy, but that was a lost cause. Vito was protected by several layers of lackeys and security. I also learned he owned a number of villas and large homes in Italy, Spain, and the south of France. He and Peggy could be living in any one of them.

The time dragged. My life consisted of work, sleep, and getting drunk on the weekend.

Finally five months and three weeks from that fateful day that I last laid eyes on Peggy I got a phone call telling me to be at La Quercia restaurant at nine o'clock next Friday.

My spirits soared. The purgatory was almost at an end. In a few short days I would reclaim my darling wife and my life can resume. What will she look like? I know our love is strong and she will be so happy to be together with me. I can tell her that my gambling addiction is fully conquered. For the first time in nearly six months I felt human with the beginnings of happiness.

At 8:55, I drove up under the canopy of La Quercia restaurant. The same two thugs were at the door to escort me up the elevator to Vito's apartment. My heart was in my throat; my darling wife was only a few yards from me.

The elevator door opened. The scene was eerily the same as six months ago. But this time a gorgeous woman was standing behind Vito who was sitting at his desk. I blinked a few times and realized the woman was my darling wife Peggy. She seemed much different though. Her hair was longer and lush. It was a luminous red that changed her looks completely. My wife Peggy was a tiny bit chubby, not that I minded; however, this woman was perfect.

She smiled at me and spoke, "Hello Andrew, how are you?"

"Peggy, you are even more beautiful than when I last laid eyes on you. I can't wait for us to go home."

She laughed musically, and said "Why would I want to go with you?"

I was beginning to be afraid. I said "Because you are my wife, we love each other. You made a tremendous sacrifice for me, and I want to start making it up to you."

Peggy had a look that I didn't recognize. She reached down and kissed Vito on the cheek. "First of all, I am not your wife. Vito has connections that you can't imagine. A judge granted me a divorce three weeks after you left me. We were married at Vito's villa on Lake Como a few days later. I'm sorry Andy—no, I'm not sorry. You were not nearly the husband that Vito is. He is a better husband in so many ways. He's better in bed by a long shot. He adores me and I live like a princess. Thank God you blew up our poor excuse for a marriage with your stupid gambling addiction."

When I picked myself off the sidewalk where the goons threw me, I realize Vito never said a word. He didn't have to.