Surprise Wife: The Return

"You saw that?" Margo asked, surprised. "If you saw it, why didn't you do anything to stop it?"

"No, you don't understand. I didn't see it when it happened. I saw it later, after I was shot."

"What? How?" she asked.

"I saw myself laying on the floor, covered in blood. I saw the paramedic tell you I was gone, then I saw you talking to the police. After that, I was taken someplace else," I said.

"You mean, like Heaven? Like in those stories of near-death experiences?"

"Something like that. Except it wasn't Heaven. It was someplace else. Kinda like a town out of an old western or something. I met a man there. He called himself Justice, or Eli. We sat and talked, had a few drinks."

"You had a few drinks with a guy in an old western town after you died?" she asked, shocked.

"Yeah. I know it sounds strange, but that's what happened. I remember it plain as day. He said the town was called Hard Rock, Texas. Said they turned his old home into a landmark or something. Anyway, he showed me this video. I saw Jason put something into both our drinks and I saw everything right up until the two of you put me in the limo. He stopped the video there, saying he didn't think I would want to see the rest. And he was right."

"Oh my God," she said. "How did he get video?"

"I have no idea," I said.

"So you believe me, then?"

"Yes, I believe you when you said he drugged us both, and I believe you when you say he threatened to blackmail us. But you still lied to me. Several times. You lied the day after our anniversary when you said we had sex the night before. You lied about what happened that night. You continued to lie, and let me go out golfing with that creep. Hell, I was beginning to think he was a pretty decent fellow. Then I learned the truth."

"I'm so sorry I did that," she cried. "It tore me apart, but he threatened me and warned me to never say anything to you."

"I know," I said. "But you still should've told me. We could've done something before it got out of hand. We're supposed to be a team, Margo."

"Can you ever forgive me?" she cried. "I've never lied to you before, and it about killed me when I did. But I felt like I had no choice."

"I can forgive you, Margo, and I already have. But it can never happen again. Do you understand me?"

"Yes," she sobbed. "I understand. I'm so terribly sorry, Jim. I feel like this is all my fault. Thank you. I feel like I don't deserve you. It'll never happen again, I swear to God." I nodded my head.

"Okay, Margo," I said. "I believe you. But we still have some things to discuss."

"So you're not going to kick me to the curb?"

"No, Margo. I'm not. I love you and I can't imagine not having you in my life. But some things are gonna have to change."

"Anything, sweetheart," she said. "I'll do anything to keep you in my life. I love you so much."

"I love you too," I told her. "And I've enjoyed some of the things we've done recently."

"Just some?" she asked.

"I enjoyed what we did at home, and I liked seeing you expose yourself when you went to get the mail. And I admit, I enjoyed it when you played the role of my sex slave."

"But there were things you didn't like?"

"I hated seeing you let Stan fondle you the way he did," I said. "I know it was part of our game, and I know I gave you permission at the time. That was part of our agreement. But I hated it. I came close to punching him out. I had a feeling you were pushing me to let you have sex with another man. You remember that conversation we had?" She nodded her head.

"I remember that," she said.

"Do you remember what you promised? That you would never do anything behind my back, and never do anything with another man without my permission?"

"I... remember," she said.

"But the truth is, you had already been with another man behind my back. Isn't that right?"

"Yes," she said quietly. "But you know the reason for that."

"Yes, I do. But I also feel like you were being pressured by Donna and Bill."

"I was, a bit. I wanted to have the same excitement in our lives as they have in theirs," she said.

"You know, I had a chance to read up on all that cuckolding stuff," I said. "I never got a chance to tell you what I found. Are you interested?"

"Yes, I am," she said.

"Well, it's not all fun and games, at least not the way Donna would have you believe. Sure, it may start out fun and exciting, but from what I've read, it hardly ever ends that way. Somewhere along the line, the cheated spouse gets disrespected and humiliated. What started out as fun and games becomes something else.

"The intimacy between husband and wife is gone, and along with it, the respect. Eventually, the relationship deteriorates and the couple ends up divorced. You know that nearly half of all marriages end in divorce, right?"

"I've heard that," she said. "And I guess I never thought of it that way. Donna and Bill say they really enjoy what they do."

"Forget about Donna," I said. "This is OUR marriage we're talking about. Not theirs. I'm not Bill. And you're certainly not Donna. This isn't about keeping up with the Jones's. This is about what's best for us. If you're serious about making this work, you need to quit listening to them."

"I am serious, and I want our marriage to work. More than anything. That's why I wanted to spice things up a bit between us. I just got carried away. But I understand what you're saying and I agree. I'll quit listening to them from now on," she said. "From now on, it's just you and me. I promise."

I nodded my head and thanked her. The discussion had wiped me out and I put my head back and closed my eyes.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

"I'm wiped," I told her. "I'm glad we had this discussion, though. Maybe after I'm outta here, we can speak with a marriage counselor. What do you think?"

"That may not be a bad idea," she said. "All I want is to spend the rest of my life with you. And if seeing a marriage counselor will help, I'll do it. I love you more than you'll ever know."

"And I love you too, Margo," I said. "If you don't mind, though, I think I'm going to get some sleep."

"Okay, sweetheart. I'll be right here. Sweet dreams," she said as she kissed me. I felt like we had made pretty good progress, but I knew we had more work ahead of us. I closed my eyes and went to sleep.

* * * * *

The next couple days were a blur. Margo and I talked -- a lot. And we managed to clear the air about a number of things. I felt like we were definitely heading in the right direction and I have to admit, it was good seeing her smile again.

We also talked about that last day -- the day I walked in on her and Jason in our bed. Through her tears, she told me that Jason just walked into the house after I had left. She said that she demanded he leave before she called the cops.

But he had another idea. According to her, he asked if I knew what had happened on our anniversary. She told him I knew it all. He got angry and was about ready to carry out his threat, then decided it would be best if she fucked him in our bed instead.

According to her, she fought him the whole time and told him it wasn't going to happen. But he insisted and slapped her across the face. I could feel the anger rising in me when she recalled that. He grabbed her arm and forced her into our bedroom, where he demanded she strip.

When he got her on the bed, he began screwing her, but she was unresponsive, making him very angry. He began yelling at her, and it was at that point when I walked in. I already knew the rest. I watched her as she told the story and I believed her.

"Thank you for being honest with me," I told her.

Finally, the doctor said I could leave the ICU, but he wanted me to stick around for at least a couple weeks for therapy, both physical and emotional. They removed the catheter and the other tubes from my body and wheeled me up to my new room.

When I got settled in, Margo turned the television on. News of Jason's arrest had been overshadowed by other, perhaps more important things, like the Mayor's new dog. But, the Eyewitness News anchor said, there had been a development.

According to the District Attorney, Jason signed a written confession in which he admitted drugging both of us, then raping Margo twice while threatening to blackmail us with salacious photos. He also admitted doing it to at least two other couples as well. Additionally, he copped to the attempted murder charge. Since he was in possession of my pistol when he was arrested, he also faced a stolen weapons charge, which he accepted.

The District Attorney went on to say that Jason would plead guilty to all the charges against him and accept a summary judgment without a long and expensive trial. I felt relieved to hear that. I also couldn't help but wonder if Eli had something to do with it.

* * * * *

Epilogue:

I ended up spending two months in the hospital, undergoing all kinds of therapy. Fortunately, I had worked 10 years at the same company, so I had plenty of sick time to cover it. The hospital even had a counselor on staff who worked with Margo and I, and, I'm happy to say, we're closer now than we have been in a very long time.

Jason ended up getting sentenced to life in prison without the possibility of parole. It seems the judge was more than disgusted with what he had done. That suited me just fine.

Margo and I moved on, and decided to sell the old house. She was a trooper and took care of all the necessary paperwork. She also spent some time looking at new places for us to move into. She and I spent many evenings looking at photos and videos of houses for sale. I had given her a laundry list of things to check out, and she would give me her results when she came to see me.

After about six weeks, we found the house we wanted to buy and put a hefty down payment on the place. By then, the old house had sold, so we were in good shape. Margo took care of the moving, and went so far as to purchase a brand new bedroom set. God bless her for thinking of that on her own, I thought to myself. I couldn't wait to spend our first night together in a new bed in our new home.

Finally the day came for me to leave the hospital. Margo packed my things and helped me get dressed. When she pulled my shirt out of the closet, she paused.

"Jim, when did you start smoking again?" she asked. I shook my head.

"Uh, I haven't. Why?" She held up a partial pack of cigarettes. The package was marked, "JOP." Then it hit me -- that was the pack Eli put in my pocket at the saloon.

"I put this shirt in this wardrobe myself two weeks ago," she said. "It wasn't there then. When did you get them?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," I said.

"Well, try me."

"You remember what I told you about that guy I spoke to after I was shot?" I asked.

"Yeah, but that was just a hallucination, wasn't it? Like a near-death experience?"

"Apparently not," I said. "He put that pack in my pocket before we left the old town." She started to throw them in the trash, but something made me stop her. "I'd kinda like to keep 'em, if you don't mind."

"Suit yourself, but I don't want you smoking in our new house," she said.

"Deal," I said, putting the pack in my pocket.

Margo took me home and I even had enough strength to pick her up and carry her over the threshold. This would be a new start for both of us, and we both knew it. That night, she rocked my world in our new California King-sized bed.

We didn't see much of Bill and Donna after the move, but Margo kept in touch with her. It seems Margo told Donna in no uncertain terms that she was happy in our relationship just as it was, and there would be no need for any new games outside the home.

I was told that I wouldn't be cleared to go back to work for a couple weeks yet, so I thought about what the two of us could do in the meantime. Then an idea came to me. I pulled up Mapquest and checked out a certain town in Texas. It just so happened there was a fairly new historic landmark just outside the city limits. When Donna came home that afternoon, I hit her up.

"Sweetheart, what do you think about taking a trip to Texas for a couple days?" I asked.

"Texas?" she asked. "I guess it'd be alright. Did you have someplace specific in mind?"

"Yeah, a little town called Hard Rock," I said.

"Uh, okay, I guess." Smiling, I made the arrangements and a couple days later, we flew to Hard Rock. It didn't look much like the dusty town I had seen earlier, but it did have a certain western pioneer flavor to it. I drove the rented car through the downtown area and pulled into a Walgreen's to buy a map. I ended up parking next to a large police SUV that looked like it could survive a shooting war.

I went inside and was looking through the maps when a big man in a sheriff's uniform sidled up to me. I was shocked when I saw the full beard and eye patch covering his left eye.

"You're new in town," he said as he looked me over. "Is there something I can he'p you with?"

"Uh, yeah, sheriff, maybe so," I said. "I was looking for a map of the area so I could find the old Jones house. I hear it's a historic landmark." He nodded his head and smiled. Then he pulled out a map and handed it to me.

"It's real easy to find," he said. "Just stay on the main drag outta town, and follow the signs. Can't miss it."

"Okay, thanks, Sheriff... uh, Caldwell," I said, reading the name tag on his uniform. I saw the ribbons on his uniform and wondered what they were for. Probably for being the meanest, scariest-looking son-of-a-bitch on the planet, I thought to myself.

"Yer welcome," he said in a Texas drawl. "And welcome to Hard Rock." He tipped his Stetson and walked out of the store after waving at the cashier. I paid for the map and grabbed a couple of cold drinks and just happened to see a picture that made me freeze in my tracks.

It was a picture of an old saloon, taken some time just after the Civil War. I recognized it right off as the saloon where Eli and I met.

"You okay, son?" the clerk asked.

"Uh, yeah," I said. "That old saloon, where was that, exactly?"

"Just down the street," the clerk said. "If you look close enough, you can still see some of the old fake front."

"Wow," I said. After I paid for the map and the drinks, I went back to the car and we headed out. Just as the sheriff said, the old place was pretty easy to find. All we had to do was follow the road signs. When we got to the old house, we were both shocked at how small the old place was.

I parked the car and we walked around, reading the placards that had been set up. I couldn't imagine living a tougher life than this with no electricity or hot and cold running water. We went through the tiny adobe house, marveling at the fact that six or seven people lived in this at one time. They had to have been a pretty close-knit family to do that.

I stopped at one of the displays and saw a copy of a handwritten journal. According to the place-card, it was a page from a journal written by Eli's wife, Elizabeth, after the Civil War.

"April 3, 1868," the date on the journal read. "I know my beloved Eli has been dead for some years now, but I can't help but think he's still here. I feel him every so often and I can smell the odor from his cigars. He died fighting the good fight, for justice & peace. And I can't help but think he's still out there somewhere continuing the fight. Godspeed, my love, wherever you are. I will always love and adore you." I showed the passage to Margo, who teared up as she read the entry.

I looked up and saw an enlarged photo of a man in uniform next to a horse. I recognized the man right off -- it was Eli. Chills went up my spine as I looked at the photo.

"That's him, Margo," I said, pointing at the photo. "That's the man I spoke to." Tears began to form in my eye as I looked at the photo. It WAS real. All of it. Margo looked at the photo with me. For a moment, I thought I saw the man in the photo smile, but I dismissed it as a trick of the mind. Still, I felt as though I owed this man something.

"Thanks, Eli," I said quietly. "For everything." Margo looked at me before speaking.

"Are you alright, Jim?" she asked. I looked at her pretty face before speaking.

"Yeah," I said. "I'm fine. Everything's going to be fine."

We spent the rest of the weekend in Hard Rock, then flew back home. A few weeks later, Margo bounced up to me when I got home from work, a giant smile on her face. She threw her arms around me and smothered me with kisses.

"Now that's what I call a greeting," I said. "What's going on?"

"Guess what?" she asked. I shook my head.

"I don't know. What?"

"You're gonna be a daddy," she said. I whooped as loud as I could, picking my darling wife up and twirling her around. Yes, I thought, life is good.

And the adventure continued...

* * * * *

Notes:

Sheriff Ryan Caldwell was featured in my series, "A Father's Justice." He also appeared in "Justice 04: Old Scores." The Jones home was made a historic landmark in that story as well.

Before you fire up Google maps, Hard Rock, Texas does not exist. I created it for the "A Father's Justice" series.

And before you ask, no, the 'Tramp isn't getting soft. As regular readers know, cheaters in my stories generally do not fare very well. There are some times, however, when I believe that a measure of forgiveness is called for.