This is how I would continue, Kalimaxos' Story about Marcy and Rick. My continuation could have two endings but isn't that the case with any story. I hope you agree with the one I have chosen.
I would like to thank Kalimaxos anyway, for the open invitation.
If you have read Kalimaxos's story you will recognise where I am starting.
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She nodded and came back with the bottle and filled her glass. Sitting next to me this time, she filled my glass and turned to look at me with those doe-like eyes.
'So, Rick? What do we do?'
I stared back at her, my head trying to make sense of what my wife had written. What had Diedre told her? It probably only took a few seconds for me to make my decision, though it felt like I had been staring at Leslie for ages.
'What do we do now?' I repeated. 'We are not going to do anything.' I told her. 'You are going back home, right now.'
I saw a look of defiance. 'Right now,' I repeated, firmly, as I stood and opened the back door. 'Out, now, and don't come back.'
If ever a woman looked confused, Leslie certainly did. 'Out,' I shouted. Fortunately, she scuttled out and I slammed the door behind her.
She had left the bottle of wine so I filled my glass again and took my glass the bottle and Marcy's letter into my den. After two more glasses of wine, I read Marcy's letter again. I found the worst part was that she admitted that there was a chance I hadn't done whatever she thought I had or Diedre had told her we had done. Then she tells me what she had decided to do. All I did was get a blow job and then suck the bitch's cunt.
Then I re-read the bit about meeting her in the Ambassador Hotel if I wanted to take her back. Who does this woman think she is, telling me what I have to do. Oh no, that was not going to happen. She was not getting a hall pass to fuck that asshole Trey for six weeks when all I got from Diedre was one measly cock sucking.
The next day, after a night of deliberation, I contacted my solicitor. As well as being my lawyer Ralph was also a family friend, so it wasn't easy telling him about Marcy. After discussing my options, I asked him to prepare divorce papers so they would be ready to have them served on Marcy when she returned.
That evening I sent a long text to my wife. All the time I was writing it, I was remembering our conversation while she was in Trey's room. It was that conversation that was influencing my response, much more than her letter