Chekhov's Gun

NOTE: This is a sequel to edrider73's LW story "Strange Car In The Driveway,"//rosa-blanca.ru/desixxxphoto/s/strange-car-in-the-driveway

Edrider73 has generously given his permission for this derivative work. He wrote: "It's been a while, so maybe things have changed and you need my permission to post a story based on my story. If that's the case, I definitely give you permission. Whether it's needed or not, I feel honored that my story reached you deeply enough to get your writing juices flowing, resulting in the time and effort it took for you to make your own contribution to Literotica. Thanks, Ed"

Although many readers and writers seem to treat SCITD as the same kind of 'open-ended' story as "Just Once, If you Don't Mind" by Kalimaxos //rosa-blanca.ru/desixxxphoto/s/just-once-if-you-dont-mind EdRider73 considers this story complete. There is no further action or denouement in the mind of the author. You can read Ed's own thoughts about the conclusions of his story in this interview:

//rosa-blanca.ru/desixxxphoto/s/author-interview-edrider73

However, I just couldn't let it sit where it ended. A play, after all, should have three acts. The lights come up on act two just after Gary finishes reading Vera's letter.

***

I had a few preparations to make. It would take longer than fifteen minutes, so I called Vera.

"Gary! Are you okay?"

"Shut up. No, I'm not okay. Yes. I will join you at the Denny's. It may take me longer than fifteen minutes, but don't go anywhere. I have to collect myself and prepare what I've got to say. I have to calm down. I don't want to show up and do anything we'll regret."

"Gary, I..."

"SHUT UP. "I meant for my voice to be measured and calm. It wasn't. I was shaking and trembling, and I knew it was carrying over into how I spoke. "Before you guys congratulate yourselves too much, there are several ways you really fucked up. You may have gotten an A in your class, but you've seriously misunderstood me, or what this means for our marriage. It was probably smart of you to steal my gun, since you genuinely seem to be worried about how I'd react. You're right. I'm furious, and quite probably capable of doing real harm. I guess that's why you left me the sledgehammer to beat up the car. You wanted to channel my rage in what you consider a harmless direction. Well, I'm not going to beat up the car. Fuck That. Fuck You. There's no point. You don't care about the car, and besides, that would be going along with what you had planned, with this... deliberate attack on me. So no, I'm not going to cooperate with your scheme. We'll talk more when I get there." I ended the call and turned off my phone.

I went to the garage. It's really a fully enclosed carport with a garage door. We could have finished it as a whole new room, but then we wouldn't have had anywhere to put the car. The wall against the side of the house was still done up as an exterior wall, with the same siding and everything. I used a screwdriver to open a loose part of that siding, reached into the gap, and retrieved something my wife didn't know about. I went back into the house looking for the lockbox where I kept my gun, and sure enough, it was gone. My range bag, ammo can, and the tacklebox where I kept my cleaning kit were all still there.

I sat at the kitchen table with some paper, and scribbled down a few notes for my own use, collecting my thoughts. It didn't take long. I distilled it to three points and then thought of something else. Then I wrote a note to Vera, sealed it and wrote "Dear Vera, Please Read This" on the envelope, mirroring the message she'd left for me. I wrote another note for the waitress and left for Denny's, not entirely sure what I would find or how it would go.

***

Twenty minutes later, I got to the Denny's, having stopped at a cash machine along the way. The moment I opened the door and saw them at the booth, I knew. Even more surely than when I'd seen the piece-of-shit car, I knew my marriage was over, for the second time in an hour. I was ten thousand percent certain that Vera had cheated, and lied, and manipulated me, and was still trying to do so.

I tried to smile and failed. I tried to scowl and failed. I have no idea how I looked as I approached the booth, but I can tell you how they looked.

They looked worried.

I passed the note I'd written and a couple of folded twenties to the waitress on my way to the table and glared at the trio.

Vera nodded. "Okay, well, we're glad you're here. I understand that was an ordeal for you to go through, and we're sorry about that. We hope you feel better." She was smiling, but she was still stiff, oddly formal. Very uncharacteristic of her. She flinched a little as I slid in next to her on the vinyl-cushioned bench. "Thank you for joining us. Gary, this is my writing partner Reg and his wife, Penny. Guys, this is my husband Gary."

"Very pleased to meet you. Vera's told us so much about you!" He was overly friendly and familiar, trying to put me at ease. He was just about to extend his hand to shake mine, but something about my expression caused him to reconsider at the last moment.

It wasn't lost on me that the asshole had said "us." As if Vera had been spending all her time working with, talking to, and having coffee with Reg AND his wife... while pretending to have an affair with him? It could only have been meant to assuage me, but it made no sense. When would Vera have even met Penny before? I hadn't met Reggie boy. I almost called him out on it, but I didn't want to show too much of my hand too early. This was a performance, after all. Dramatic timing is important. And this time, we were following MY script.

"The only thing that Vera has let me know about you," I replied, "is that you're a complete piece of shit. She's dropped all kinds of hints and insinuations that your affair was real, preparing me for your little performance. And now she's telling me that was all a lie. So you're a scheming, manipulative asshole. Forgive me for not taking an instant liking to you."

"That's... understandable. And I apologize."

"Vera's note said that you wanted to set up cameras to record my reaction. Would you have enjoyed seeing that? A broken, disoriented, and homicidally enraged man facing the end of his marriage? A man who might possibly harm himself or destroy his home? Would that have been amusing to you?"

"Ah. She talked me out of it."

"Well. It would have been in poor taste. You're a fucking sadist."

"No no no, not at all, nothing like that. The assignment required absolute realism, you see..."

"Shut The Fuck Up." I turned to Penny without letting him finish. "Did they do it to you, too?"

She looked shocked that I was talking to her. "Did they do what to me?"

"Try to get you to believe that they really were having an affair. For the play. For the class assignment. Did they fuck with your head, too?"

"Oh! Oh, no. No, not at all. I would never have tolerated that. I'm the jealous type. I keep Reg on a short leash. He knows I'd kill him if he even seriously thought about cheating on me. I'd chop off his balls and ruin him forever in the divorce."

"I see." I really did see, though I'm sure I sounded like I didn't. "But you guys thought it would be a FINE thing to do to me," I growled accusingly.

"Hey. What can I get you to drink?"

"Coffee. Black." I didn't look at her.

"Have you decided on anything else?"

"Whatever kind of pie you've got."

"You got it hon."

The waitress sauntered off. I relaxed a bit.

"We didn't think it would be okay, no," said Vera. It wasn't lost on me that she'd been saying "we" since I got there. I was on the outside of their scheming, and she wasn't taking personal responsibility for it. She was showing solidarity with Reg, not with me. "But we had that conversation. You basically agreed to forgive me, in advance. It's almost like you gave us permission. And I knew you were strong enough to take it. I knew our marriage was strong enough to survive this. I had faith in you. I had confidence in you. I knew you wouldn't let me down, even though what we did to you was wrong."

"Yeah, okay, about that conversation. I remember it rather differently."

Vera drew back, a little cold. "Okay. Tell me what you mean."

"I specifically told you that there were some things I definitely would not forgive. I thought really hard about how to answer your twisted clown show of a question and adjusted my answer several times before I said it out loud, but that was it. I said that there were some things I definitely would NOT forgive."

"But none of that's..."

"Shut up. You did NOT listen to what I'd said; you only heard what you wanted to hear. You'd somehow convinced yourself that I would forgive you for anything you might do, and you were delighted. But that is NOT what I said and it's NOT what I meant. I meant that there are things I would not forgive, and yet you rationalized that those things 'didn't count' because you wouldn't do them. Is that correct?"

"Well yes. And I wouldn't."

"So, in your head, what things 'don't count' because you wouldn't do them?"

"Like, actually cheat on you. Leave you for someone else."

Hoo boy.

"And you're completely confident that's what I meant."

"Yes."

"Okay. Well. Before I pulled my shit together and came over here, I said that there were some things you'd gotten wrong about this. Did you hear me say that?"

"Here you go," said the waitress, who'd brought my coffee and pie.

"Thanks."

"Anything else?"

"Not right now, thank you."

She whisked off and I let her.

"Gary, I just..."

"Shoosh. There are three of them. Three things you didn't fully grasp. Got it?"

"We're listening," said Reg.

"The first is the topic we were just talking about: things I would not forgive you for. You said 'you don't need to spell it out.' Well, apparently, we do. One of the things I would not forgive, which you failed to even consider, is Abuse. I would not tolerate it if you were to Abuse me."

"And I haven't."

"Bullshit. This is abuse. You were a dick to me, on purpose, just to be a dick, just because you wanted to see what it was like. You figured you'd get away with it by forcing me to forgive you based on my feelings for you, our marriage, and our kids. But None Of That Means You Get To Be A Dick. That is Abuse."

"I didn't..."

"Fuck you. You hurt me, on purpose, as badly as you dared, knowing that you would hurt me, and, hell, hurting me was the entire fucking point. Fuuuuck Yooooou. That is Abuse, and I will not fucking stand for it. Am I fucking clear?"

Vera considered that for a moment. I decided to give her another piece of it to chew on.

"Isn't that what you wrote in your cruel little 'Ha Ha Got You' note? You manipulated me into giving you fake permission to fuck with my head and break my heart? Isn't that what you said?"

"Okay, well, not like that..."

"And that it was a completely shitty thing to do? You admitted that, too."

"Yes, yes, it was shitty. And that's why I definitely do need forgiveness for it."

"Okay, just so we're clear. That is NOT something I gave you permission for. That is NOT something I will forgive you for. You put our entire relationship on the chopping block just so you could have a cheap thrill. Rationalize it however you want, you're a piece of shit for doing it. I should not have to put up with it. I WILL NOT put up with it. You can fuck with the 'audience' of a play all you want, because they know they're the audience and they know they're watching a play. That's called 'willing suspension of disbelief.' What you did to me was personal, it was unwilling, I really did believe it, and it's intentional mental cruelty. So Fuck You, you fucking piece of shit bitch."

Vera had gone pale and I could only assume that she was beginning to understand just how badly she'd fucked up.

"So... what are you going to do?"

"Oh, I'm afraid we're just getting started, honey. That was just number one. Make no mistake, you and I are NOT good right now, but number two makes everything a hell of a lot more complicated than just that."

"Okay... what's number two?"

"This concerns you too, Reggie boy, so listen up. Number two is that you guys are STILL fucking with me, and I know it. The play's not over. This is just the Second Act. This little meeting is a continuing performance for an audience of me. I'm not fooled."

"Come on, it's not like that. You know everything now," said Vera.

"Vera was pretty sure you wouldn't even show up here." added Reggie boy.

"Bullshit. That business about 'I have a feeling you won't come'? You were practically daring me to. You knew damn well I wouldn't shy away from a confrontation."

"This wasn't meant to be a confrontation. We were just going to answer your questions and apologize and put your mind at ease. Hopefully, we can all walk away from this as friends."

"Vera. You don't think I'm a stupid person. Don't treat me like one. I know what a nested narrative is, okay? A play within a play? Like in 'A Midsummer Night's Dream'? I know what's happening. You two really are having an affair. You did it to make it real so that it would seem real. You'd actually feel all that guilt, all that fear, and it would carry into your script and your performance. The fake part is that you're telling me it's all been an act."

I looked around the table. Vera looked confused. Reggie boy was cool as a cucumber. But I was really trying to read Penny. She wasn't cracking.

"Here's the setup. This asshole," I said, pointing at Reg and risking another half a glance at Penny, "...wants to score some married pussy. He gets off on the cheating as much as the sex, and he enjoys humiliating the husbands even more. So he creates a situation where he's writing a play with you ABOUT having an affair with you, and you're both doing everything you can to make it as real as possible. It works both ways. He cajoles his way into your pants, for real, by first getting you to think about it as if you're really doing it, planting the idea, making it vivid and colorful in your mind, and then forcing the issue by using your devotion to the work as leverage. And then, on the other side of it, you both get to cover your tracks for the real affair by convincing everybody that you're having a fake one. You go out of your way to act suspicious, leave little hints and breadcrumbs for me to find, even beg for forgiveness in advance, and then Viola! It's all an act! Every LEGITIMATE doubt or suspicion that I'd ever have could be explained as part of 'the play,' so I'd never find out for sure what was actually real."

I turned to Reggie boy and looked him dead in the eye. "It's fucking brilliant. I've only got to wonder how many times you've run this scam before."

He snorted and smirked. "You flatter me. I'm not THAT good an actor."

"Yeah. You're not."

"Gary," said Vera, "You're being ridiculous. I'd never do that to you."

"Bullshit. Fuck You. You don't put in all this effort getting me to believe that you're fucking and then call me 'ridiculous' when it works! You guys have spent the last few weeks convincing me that you would. And you DID convince me, so yeah, I'm still convinced."

"But it was all an act! It was part of the play, and it's really good! We could see by your reaction that you really did believe it and that means we did a great job!"

"Jesus. Vera, I get it. You're busted, all right? You've been telling yourself that cheating on me doesn't actually count if I don't know about it or couldn't prove it. Maybe you didn't cheat with him all the way, or maybe you did, but you sure as shit crossed the line somewhere. Whatever it was that you did counts as cheating, and you know it. You're willing to live with the actual guilt and wrongness of it for the sake of your art and your degree and your career. You figure it makes you authentic. And yes, you really do think we're strong enough to weather a scare like this, as long as it's JUST a scare and I'll never know. And you're right, there would always be some shadow of doubt, some lack of definite proof. But you guys fucked up. Oh, boy did you ever fuck up. I didn't know for sure before I got here, but now I do."

"What do you mean? I'm telling you the truth! It was just a play!"

"Goddamnit, Vera, You throw yourself into everything you do. You're the most passionate person I know. It's one of the things I love about you. When you fuck me, it's not just fucking, it's passion. When you make spaghetti, it's not just spaghetti, it's Love. When you live in a house, it's not just a house, it's a home. And when you write a play, it's not just a fucking play, all right?"

"Okay. I can see why you'd think that. And yes, I admit, I really did play with those feelings. I really did commit to the 'what if' and made it as real as I could. But we never did anything! Not for real!"

"Whatever you did or didn't do, I don't know, I'll never know, and I don't want to know. I only know for sure that he pushed it and it went farther than it should have, and now you're trying to tell yourself that it doesn't technically count, but yes, you still feel guilty and naughty about it, but that was the point. You used it for the play. Don't tell me I'm crazy. The line got crossed. Honey, I'm not the only one who's being played. You are, too. This whole ENTIRE thing was a setup. Reg here set you up to fuck him, or get whatever he got from you. Then you two conspired to get me to believe you're fucking, which was easy because you are, or whatever, and now we're in level three of that fucking Matt Damon movie, what was it, Inception? Trying to get me to believe it was fake the whole time when it wasn't."

"It wasn't Matt Damon, it was Leonardo DiCaprio," said Penny.

"Whatever. That movie confused the fuck out of me, but I'm not confused about this."

"My husband has not been having an affair with your wife," said Penny. "I can vouch for that. He wouldn't do that. He knows better. And I know where he's been every minute since this class began. They're telling the truth. Trust me. I'm not worried."

"Penny. My guess is that your first role was to convince Vera that they'd get away with the affair by appearing to be fooled. If Reg could get his paranoid, jealous wife to believe this whole 'it's just a play' bullshit, then Vera would surely believe that her trusting husband would fall for it, too, especially if you were to vouch for them."

"And why would I do something like that?"

"Good question. You're a ringer, that's why. My wife involved other people in my own everyday life to make me jealous and suspicious about the affair that I'm now suddenly supposed to believe was all just an act. She brought in Larry and Kara. She involved MY OWN BOSS. That's going outside the narrative frame, like when an actor walks into the audience and interacts with them. Those other people, who I didn't know were 'players,' were supposed to confirm the affair, so I'd drive myself mad and break down my own bedroom door only to 'discover' that I'd been tricked. So, why wouldn't Reg try the same tactic on Vera? The class, the professor, and you, you're all part of his plan to seduce her."

"That doesn't even make sense. I'm his wife. Why would I help him seduce other women?"

"Because you're not his wife. You're an actor. Your name isn't Penny. It's Katie. Katie Pendelton. You were two years behind me in high school. I didn't know you personally. It was a big school, and we moved in different circles, but you were in the drama club. I saw you in every play and every musical the school did in my junior and senior year, including 'A Midsummer Night's Dream.' I was a fan."

She blinked. Twice.

"I go by 'Kat' now."

Vera looked like she'd been kicked in the stomach.