This is part 3 and the conclusion, please read Lethal Weapon parts 1 and 2 to find where we are before reading this. My keyboard has a habit of skipping letters and doubling letters. I usually catch these in spell check, but I miss some, so please bear with me. Comments and voting will be turned on now, please be kind.
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Martin grabbed the bag of catfish fillets and Steve drove him home, pulling into the drive about 11:30. He said goodbye to Steve, put the gear inside of the garage, grabbed the fish and headed in. Trish was sitting at the kitchen table drinking a cup of coffee,
"Did you have a good time last night," she asked.
She looked down at the floor after speaking, remembering the events from the evening before and what she had almost done. Trish's guilt was starting to overwhelm her, and a few tears slipped from her eyes.
Martin held up the fish fillets so that Trish could get a good look at them, "We have enough here for several catfish dinners," he stated with a smile.
He noticed the tears, but never spoke, waiting for her to broach the subject, if in fact, she would.
"Yes yes, those look nice. . . You know how much I love catfish. . . Martin. . . I-I-we-need to talk. I've been thinking about this for a long time. I assume that you read the letter I wrote to you a while back, I. . . we need to discuss that, I know I hurt you terribly, I never intended to. . . I don't know how I let myself get sucked into all of that, it was my fault. I knew it was wrong, but with the pressure from my mother. . . Oh Martin, I'm so sorry. . ." she sobbed, as the tears started to run down her cheeks steadily now.
Martin didn't say anything, waiting to see if she was going to go on, "And-and-the-the-re's something else I need to tell you," she continued.
"Yes?" Martin replied, as he walked over and placed the fish inside of the freezer.
"D-do you remember Dan Mcallister?" Trish asked.
"Yeah, he's the guy from back in school who tried to screw every girl he ever came in contact with. . . and succeeded for the most part. What about him?"
"Back when we were in school, I had a big crush on him. I mean a big crush, I used to lie in bed at night and dream, I had it all planned out, how we were going to be married, we'd have a couple of kids, the white picket fence, the whole nine yards. . ." Trish explained.
"Did you ever date him?" Martin asked.
"God no! He never even knew I existed. . . He. . ."
"Then why would you plan a life with someone that wasn't interested in you?" Martin interrupted.
"You don't understand, you know that I was never popular in highschool, I was too skinny an--and guys just never paid any attention to me," she said, looking down at the floor with a rejected and sad look.
Then in a softer and almost sad voice, "I focused on him because he was so good looking, I always figured that I would never have a guy that liked me, and I would never be married. . . How do you think I got stuck with that loser Roger?" she said, wishing she hadn't mentioned Roger's name.
"You mean giant cock Roger, that kept you coming for all those years?!!" Martin said, spitefully.
"I'm sorry Martin, I wish I could take the last twenty three years back, but I can't."
"Whatever. . . you were talking about Dan, go on. . ."
"I saw Dan in the market two weeks ago. . . the same day I left you the letter. He called out to me by name. I never even knew he knew who I was. . . He told me that I was beautiful. . . my heart skipped a beat, here was the boy, er. . . now man, that I had fantasized about all through high school. . . and-and he had just told me that I was beautiful. He asked me out to dinner, but I told him that I was married. He said it would only be as friends, then he gave me his card."
Martin didn't respond, just let her talk.
"I was flustered all of the way home from the market, it made me feel good that I had gotten his attention. . . Not that I wanted to be with him or anything, but it gave me more confidence about myself, and I came home hoping to try and straighten things out between us. . . but you went into your room and closed the door. I felt crushed, and then you've given me the cold shoulder ever since."
Trish looked down at the floor again, the pain showing in her eyes, "I started thinking about what you said about going out with other people. . . I decided to call Dan and tell him I would go to dinner with him, but that was all. I needed some company, some interaction with a man. . . you all but ignore me, and he made me feel so good about myself. . . Believe me, I had no romantic intentions with him whatsoever. . . yet when I got ready to go, I don't know why, I put on that little blue dress that I wore for our anniversary last year. Maybe I just wanted to feel desirable," she said, as she looked away, almost in shame. Another tear escaped her right eye and ran down her cheek.
"So, you went out with Dan last night huh?" Martin asked, even though he already knew most of what had happened, all except for about forty five minutes or so. Could they have had sex in that amount of time? They could have, but not likely, unless it was really quick.
"Did you sleep with him?"
"NO!" Trish let out a gasp, and started crying softly.
"Then why are you crying Trish?"