On June the 2nd in the year of our Lord 2016 it came to pass that aspiring writer Ahazura penned an open ended Loving Wives story titled "Zero, Fifty or One Hundred" and put out a call to his fellow Lit-authors to come up with an alternative conclusion for it.
Very well Sir - challenge accepted.
SL
Btw dear reader :
The following will obviously only make sense if you read Ahazura's original story first.
Zero, Fifty or One Hundred - The Strange Conclusion
Sharon slumped in the chair across from Bob, her mind racing to comprehend the situation she suddenly found herself in.
How did he know all these details?
She shivered under his piercing gaze and realized that she was witnessing an entirely new side of her loving husband. A side she had never encountered before or even imagined existed. The force of his determination hanging almost like a tangible wave of dread in the air between them, she harbored no illusions regarding the precariousness of her situation.
Bob was serious as a heart attack.
Oh yes, she did not doubt that he meant every word. Who was this stranger staring out from behind her husband's normally so gentle eyes, she wondered.
"I am so sorry honey. I know I screwed up," she said in a sad voice and lowered her gaze in defeat. Bob was getting it all wrong. She had to do something to make him understand, but what? How could this shitty situation possibly be saved without jeopardizing everything?
Desperately she leaned close to him and mouthed in a barely audible whisper, "Please trust me. I love you so much..."
Bob wasn't swayed though. She might as well have attempted to sweet-talk a brick wall.
"Zero, fifty or one hundred Sharon?"
Sharon took a deep breath.
"Bob honey. Listen, You have the wrong idea here. Can't we just ..."
"CHOOSE!" he roared and banged his fists on the table so hard he almost knocked over the vase.
"Hundred," Sharon gasped as she recoiled in shock. "God in heaven Bob! I choose hundred."
Without further ado he rose to get his coat leaving his wife shaking and flustered at the table. What had she done? Her reliable husband who rarely lost his composure was completely out of it.
****
They drove in silence with Sharon lost in thoughts. What could she do to save this? She was cornered and she knew it. Checkmate. The fat lady was already singing. She was heading steadily towards her doom with 50 mph and no possibility of turning back or diverting the looming disaster. The way Bob stared straight ahead and held the wheel in a white knuckled death-grip told her that much.
She realized that she probably owed this shitty situation to Vicki. Her, and her doting husband Ron, were her best friends and she loved them both dearly. But they were the consummate picket fence couple, and for Vicki the world was a simple place. She saw everything in black or white, and Sharon could easily imagine that she had jumped to conclusions and shared her moral musings and observations with Bob.
And the worst part was that she probably did so hoping to save her friend's marriage by intervening. No, she certainly wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, but Vicky didn't have a mean bone in her body. Whatever she had done, she invariably did it with the best of intentions.
"The road to Hell is paved with good intentions," Sharon sighed to herself. "That well-meaning idiot had no idea what she had unleashed with her self-righteous action. God damn it Vicky! Couldn't you just have minded your own business this once?"
One thing Sharon was dead sure of: If Bob were to confront Luke, everything could easily be over right there and then. Their life together, their happy family, everything could end in a flash. Right now that looked like a distinct possibility and that realization scared her out of her mind.
Sharon was brought back to reality by a sharp jerk as Bob brought the car to an abrupt stop in front of the Sheraton. Without a single glance in her direction, he exited the car and strode towards the entrance to TGI Fridays, obviously expecting her to follow. In a last ditch attempt she rushed after him and grabbed on to his sleeve.
"Bob honey, please stop! This is not what it seems. I really have to tell you...."
He broke his stride and glared at her with eyes that could have frozen lava, and the rest of the words she had planned to say suddenly got stuck in her throat.
"Shut the fuck up Sharon," he growled in a voice dripping with menace. "This is the consequence of your own actions. You chose to go for the 100-option and thereby a chance to remain married. Fine! But unless you want to reconsider that choice, I don't want to hear ANYTHING out of your lying mouth, except for what you are going to tell that asshole Luke in a few minutes. GOT THAT?"
Without waiting for an answer he walked off and made it to the entrance before she caught up with him.
"Lead the way," Bob sneered.
Resigned to her fate Sharon skimmed the crowd and quickly spotted Luke at a corner table in the back of the room. Bob followed her gaze and started making his way to the table.
Luke smiled and raised his glass when he recognized her, but almost immediately the smile disappeared when he saw who she had brought along. When Bob slid into the seat across from him and dragged his troubled wife down beside him there was no trace of levity left on Luke's handsome face.
"Good evening Luke," Bob said in a deceptively controlled voice. "My wife has something she would like to say to you. Go ahead Sharon. The floor is yours."
Luke stared at her with the wide-eyed expression of a cornered rat.
"What the fuck is this Shar? You treacherous bitch! You double crossing cunt! You fucking ratted me out, you..."
"No Luke!" Sharon almost yelled. "I didn't tell him anything. It wasn't me."
"Shut the fuck up tramp," Luke growled and she heard the distinct ratch-ratch sound of a pump action shotgun from somewhere under the table.
"Better keep your cuck on a leash Shar. There is a loaded 12 gauge pointed at your guts, and I have absolutely no problem stepping over a few corpses in order to get outta here."
"You got that too cuck-boy?" Luke asked rhetorically in the direction of the shocked Bob.
"What the hell..?" he gasped. "A gun? You're seriously pointing a gun at us? What do you think you are doing you crazy asshole?"
"No business of yours cuck. Just sit tight and I won't have to blow your useless ball-sack through the back of your seat."
Bob looked confused at Sharon, who nodded and said quietly, "Do what he says honey. He is not bluffing. There will be a massacre if you don't."
Luke nodded with a satisfied expression.
"You know me well Shar. Now lets continue our conversation in a more private atmosphere, shall we? You two get up and start walking towards the exit. I will be right behind you... and don't forget that for one second. One wrong move and lead will fly."