She got out of the car and started chasing me down the road. “Chester! I never fucked him. I swear I never did. He knows it’ll never happen again for him. Only you get that,” she said, wailing as I strode off and made the turn down the old dirt road toward Baxter Town; she fell hopelessly behind. The road wasn’t passable by car, I knew. I was hoping she wouldn’t follow me. But, now it was my turn to be disappointed.
It took me ten hours carrying that bag and stopping now and again to catch my breath, but I made it. It was 7:30PM when I strolled up to the little bed and breakfast at the edge of town. I didn’t see the Chevy; there was hope. I headed up to the registration desk and asked to get a room. The man asked for my name; I gave it. “Oh, Mr. Gilford, your wife has already rented the room,” he said. He handed me the key. I just stood there dumbfounded. “Mr. Gilford?”
“Uh—oh, yes—uh—what room is it,” I said. I was too fucking tired to argue at that point. I’d kick her out when I got to the room. That was my plan. It was about to be altered.
I keyed the door and entered. What I noticed first was the smell. It was her perfume. It had always enslaved me in the past. I was so horny after eighteen months behind bars that that smell was getting to me. But, she wasn’t around. She’d left an envelope on the bed. I opened it. There was money in it and a note. I read the note.
“Chester,
I don’t know what to say. I am begging you to forgive me—for everything. My heart is yours, always was, always will be.
I knew you’d probably throw me out if you found me here, so after freshening up a bit, I decided to leave you this note and a little money. It’s all I have, but I know you need it more.
Chester there’s a little bar down the street, maybe two blocks away. I’ll be there until it closes tonight. I mean in case you want to see me. In case you’ve maybe, hopefully, changed your mind. After that, if you haven’t changed your mind, I will disappear forever, and you won’t have to worry about me anymore.
I love you Chester.
Your wife, Meagan.
I counted the money. It was four-hundred and eighty-four hundred dollars. It was apparently every dime she had; I just shook my head—what a woman.
I had come into town with ninety dollars in my pocket. I could use the cash. I sat and thought. Did I really want to subject myself to another meeting with her. But, her letter? The money? It unsettled me.
I took a quick shower, changed into the extra clothes in my little tube bag, and headed down the street for the Challenger bar. The desk kid told me where it was.
She was in a booth nursing a drink and nibbling on some chips. She looked tired and depressed. I leaned back against the wall and just watched her for a moment. She was beautiful, my wife, to me she was beautiful; but she was stupid beyond belief. Handjobs, blow jobs, the images just wouldn’t go away. I was all but certain that there had been more, but what the hell; I’d talk to her anyway and deal with the rest later.
I sighed and headed for her. She didn’t notice me until my shadow blocked the light from her table. Her head snapped up. “Chester! You came!,” she said. Her smile melted my convict’s heart. I nodded.
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