The Whole Thing (Short Story)

The Whole thing (Short Story)

Lex Silvas

08/03/25

Translation 05/10/26

I stand before him, staring him down in this courtroom beside the court where I was brought and left here alone with him by his lawyer not long after I testified. Neither of us says a word to the other, we just exchange serious looks. Should I say something, or have I already said too much? It’s hard to know what he must be thinking right now. I couldn’t sleep, turning over in my mind this moment when I’d come to make this crazy proposal, the moment I’d reveal my revenge plan to him. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but now I can’t tell if it really was. I’ll let him think on everything a little longer. So he can take it all in first. You know what? Fuck it — I’m dying to know what’s going through his head.

— So? — I ask, unable to hold back my curiosity any longer. — What do you say? — I add, biting my nail.

— Are you serious? — he says, letting out a nervous laugh. — Look, you’re a beautiful woman, but I… I’m a married man. — he tells me, showing me his wedding ring.

— I’m married too, remember? — I say, holding up my own ring.

— And you should respect the vows you made before God at the altar — he says, sounding outraged. — Not go around proposing something insane like this.

— Just as my husband respected his, or your wife did hers — I say, my voice tight with nerves. — Look, I know this sounds crazy, but your wife betrayed your trust — she’s been sleeping with my husband for months.

— I know that — he says. — But do you honestly believe this is the answer?

— If you don’t want to sleep with me because you think I’m ugly, just say so — I say, growing more anxious. — You wouldn’t even have to like it.

— I don’t think you’re ugly. You’re asking me to go to bed with you to get back at my wife and your husband. That’s madness.

— It’s not. We make a sex tape and send it to them, that’s it. We make them feel exactly what they made us feel. Let them taste the same poison, you know?

— Listen to what you’re saying. I’m not filming my dick literally fucking you just so you can get revenge on your piece-of-shit husband. It would never work — what would my children think of me if this got out?

— Do you honestly think your wife was thinking about your children when she was sitting on my husband’s dick?

— And do you really want my husband seeing my dick as some kind of revenge? — he asks, even more indignant. — This is absurd.

— What, are you shy? If that’s the problem, we’ll pick up some Viagra and everything will be standing tall again.

— You’ve lost your mind. I’m going to say this one more time so you understand me — I am married.

— Wait a minute — wasn’t this supposed to be a custody hearing we came here for? I thought you and your wife were living apart, and you were here trying to convince the judge your wife’s a whore and just trying to keep you away from your kids.

— I really did think you might be some help when my lawyer called you to testify, but clearly he was wrong — he says, his voice hardening with anger. — You’re deranged. Get professional help — he says, turning away.

— Where are you going? — I ask, confused.

He shakes his head, agitated. Then turns back around.

— You’re unbelievable — he says. — No wonder your husband cheated on you. You’re completely unhinged. Stay far away from me.

— As far as I recall, your wife cheated on you too — should I assume you’re crazy as well?

— Go fuck yourself — he snaps, breathing hard.

— That’s exactly what I’m asking you to do with me — I say, raising my voice.

— With a camera rolling. Isn’t that it? You really don’t have any good ideas, do you?

He turns and storms out of the room, slamming his foot hard on the floor as he goes. I stand there, lost for words — I’ve messed everything up, haven’t I? He was my only chance at getting revenge, and now I’m right back where I started. It seemed like the perfect plan in my head — I never should have come up with it in the first place, I should have known he’d never go along with it. Then suddenly I see him step back inside, walking in slowly, head bowed.

— I only came back because I forgot my jacket — he says, in a flat, serious tone, going over to collect it from the chair.

— You must think I’m completely out of my mind — I say, flushing with embarrassment. — I don’t know what came over me. I’m sorry for making your situation worse.

— Oh, you’re definitely crazy. Completely off your rocker — he says, with a hollow, cynical smile. — And I’m sorry I said what I did about your husband cheating on you. He’s an asshole to do that to a woman as beautiful as you.

— Thank you. You’re just being nice because you want to leave and get as far away from all this madness as you can — I say, trying to make amends. — And besides… what was I thinking anyway?

— Yeah, I know — he says, smiling. — Total madness. You and me — he pulls a face as he says it. — Though it might have worked if you’d just pounced on me right here, you know? Ripped my clothes off — he adds, laughing.

— Well that would definitely be crazy. We’re in a courthouse.

A strained, awkward smile settles over both of us.

— Though truth be told, my wife and I haven’t… done it… in a long time. She always had that old headache excuse — he says, laughing nervously. — I’m out of practice. I probably wouldn’t even know what to do anymore.

— Sex is like riding a bicycle. You never forget — I say, just as nervous.

— Thing is, I never actually learned how to ride a bicycle.

— Really? Your dad never taught you? — I ask.

— My parents split up when I was little. Haven’t seen my father in years.

— My husband stopped showing up for me a while back too. I guess he was busy getting his dick sucked by your wife — I say, laughing, then cutting myself off as I realize what I’ve just blurted out. — I’m sorry — that was insensitive of me.

— No, no… you’re right — he says, forcing a laugh. — Maybe it wasn’t such a terrible idea after all, you know? Let’s just sleep together and get it over with — he says, with that same forced laugh.

We stand there in awkward silence for a few seconds.

— What? — he asks.

— I didn’t say anything.

— Thought I heard something. Anyway — I was just leaving — he says, shaking his head. — Well… thanks for the wild proposal. I’m flattered — even if you didn’t exactly have other options. Because you’d never find me attractive otherwise.

— You’re welcome. At least I tried.

— Alright then, bye — he says, stepping toward me to say goodbye with a kiss, and bumping clumsily into the table.

He laughs awkwardly, so I lean in and kiss his cheek. He gets ready to leave.

— You know… just so you know — I think you’re really handsome too — I say, before he can walk out the door. — And even if none of this had happened… I’d definitely love to have a drink with you sometime.

— There’s a bar in the hotel just around the corner. Nothing fancy — that’s where I’d take you — he says, laughing. — Get you drunk first.

— And then we could rent a room and go for it — I say, laughing sheepishly.

We both shake our heads, equally flustered.

***

Inside the hotel room, I lock myself in the bathroom for a while and splash water on my face. I really am crazy — I came to a hotel with a man I barely know. That’s not who I am. I’m going to go out there and tell him we’ve gone too far. Better to stop here before we do something we’ll both regret. Well, I’ve made my point already. I managed to get a man up to a hotel room — that ought to be enough to prove to myself I’m not so worthless after all.

— Everything alright in there? — I hear his voice echoing through the bathroom door.

— It is. I’m coming out. Just one more minute.

I take a deep breath, wondering what on earth I’ve got myself into. It can’t be too late to make up an emergency and get out of here fast. I’ll say something about my children — he has children too, he won’t think it strange. I open the bathroom door and find him standing near the bed, trying and failing to open a bottle of champagne.

— Who was it at the door? — I ask. — Earlier, just after I went into the bathroom.

— Someone’s celebrating a new marriage and sent champagne to everyone on this floor. Thought we might have some — he says, finally managing to pop the cork.

Champagne spills onto the floor, pouring from the bottle, but he quickly pours what’s left into a glass before any more can go to waste. He pours mine, then his own. We toast, both trying to look cheerful.

I sit on the bed and he does the same. Once again, the silence between us feels deadly.

— We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to — I say, unable to look him in the eye.

— I don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with. Let’s just enjoy our champagne — he says, taking a sip from his glass and smiling shyly.

I look at him and see he looks nervous — a little bead of sweat trickling down his forehead.

I set my glass down on the floor and start unbuttoning my blouse, until I’m standing there in just my bra. I step out of my heels and kick them aside. He takes another sip of champagne and fumbles with his shirt buttons, then pulls it off. He sets his glass down too, takes off his socks and shoes, then his trousers, until he’s left in just his underwear. He lies back on the bed. I slip off my skirt and sit astride him in just my panties.

I stay there, perched on top of him, as if I’ve forgotten what comes next.

— This is really happening, isn’t it? — he says, sounding scarcely able to believe it. — Is there anything you’d like me to do specifically?

— I thought… I don’t know… we could kiss, maybe.

He nods, and we share a quick, timid little peck.

— What’s wrong? — I ask him. — I know I’m no model, but I thought you said you thought I was pretty.

— I do think you are. I mean — I do.

— Then why is your… — I say, gesturing with my finger. — …still asleep?

— Probably because I’m nervous — he says, shifting beneath me. — Maybe if you showed me a little more of you, I don’t know.

I shrug and unclasp my bra, letting my breasts come into view.

He stares at them, focused.

— They’re beautiful — your breasts — he says, clearing his throat.

— Thank you.

— May I? — he asks, lifting his hands, and I let him touch them.

He cups them gently. I smile to myself — not because I’m enjoying it, but because of what his touch reminds me of.

— What? — he asks, smiling too. — Not exciting enough for you? — he adds, a little sarcastic.

— You’re touching them like my gynecologist would. Grab them properly.

He squeezes firmer and I gasp. He realises he’s gripped too hard and apologises.

— You weren’t kidding when you said you and your wife hadn’t done this in a while.

— I’d forgotten how soft they are and… — he pauses. — …beautiful — he says, brushing his thumbs over my nipples.

— Oh wait — I can feel something waking up down here — I say, feeling him hardening against me. — Hold on — is that all you?

— What is it? My wife always used to complain I hurt her when we were together. I suppose I am… quite well-endowed.

— Quite? You must have been a horse in a past life. You’re still growing right between my legs while I’m talking — I say, laughing. — I only wanted to get back at my husband, not end up crippled.

— Oh come on — he laughs. — Well, it’s hardly my fault you’re so gorgeous.

— It’s been a long time since anyone told me that.

— That you’re gorgeous? Your husband didn’t tell you that often, did he? — he says, pressing his lips together. — Listen — you are incredibly beautiful. I want you to know that.

— I appreciate the compliment, but I’m starting to seriously reconsider all this — I say, looking him in the face. — I’m beginning to think you’ve got someone else hidden in your trousers.

— Still time to change your mind if you want to.

We laugh at each other.

— Is it alright if I try kissing you again? — he asks, leaning in closer.

I lean in too, and this time we kiss with far more heat than before. I feel his tongue meet mine. And suddenly our lips seem to like each other very much indeed.

— I wasn’t lying when I said I thought you were beautiful — he says. — I never thought I’d see you like this, I’ll admit, but I meant every word.

— I’m not beautiful enough to stop my husband cheating — I say, my voice falling flat and hollow.

He stops touching me and cups my face in his hand.

— Your husband is nothing but a fool — he says, looking straight into my eyes. — And so is my wife, if you want the truth.

— What is it that’s wrong with us? — I ask, feeling sad.

— I suppose we just weren’t enough for them. I truly thought my wife was happy. Right up until she asked for a divorce and full custody of the children — he says, sighing. — I tried so hard to make her happy in every way I could, and still she had to go running off to some arrogant little prick’s bed. I’m sorry — I shouldn’t say that.

— It’s alright. My husband is an arrogant prick too — I say, trying to smile. — If I were your wife… would you have cheated on me?

— Never. I’m not half as foolish as your husband was. He doesn’t deserve someone like you in his life — he says, kissing me gently.

I kiss him back and rest my head on his chest, against his hair.

— Let’s stop talking about them — it’s killing the mood — he says.

— Oh, I almost forgot — I say, reaching for my bag on the bedside table.

He looks at me, confused. I pull out my phone and set the bag back down.

— We need proof — I say, opening the camera.

— Of course — he says, stroking my leg.

I flip the camera around, lean my face against his, and take a photo. I look at it in the gallery and feel let down.

— It doesn’t look… striking enough.

— Let me see — he says, turning the phone toward him.

— I don’t like it either — he says, pulling a face. — How about this — he says, taking hold of my breast.

— That’s better. What if you put your mouth on it? — I suggest.

— Like this — he says, taking my nipple gently between his lips.

— Exactly like that — I say, angling the camera to get it just right.

I try to look alluring and snap the picture.

— Let me see — he says. — That’s a good one. I’d be jealous as hell if my wife sent me that.

— See? And we didn’t even need to take a picture of your… equipment. Which I know would’ve made my husband jealous.

— Stop it — you’re embarrassing me — he laughs.

Suddenly we hear someone banging on the door, and we both jump. The knocking gets louder and louder, and neither of us knows what to do.

— Who is it? — he shouts toward the door.

— Open up! I know my wife’s in there! — comes a deep, angry male voice — and I recognise it instantly. It’s my husband.

We both scramble out of bed, terrified.

— What do you want, Peter? I thought you didn’t care what I did anymore! — I scream back, furious.

— Oh, wonderful to know my wife’s nothing but a whore! Sorry to interrupt the happy couple — he yells back, just as angry.

We look at each other, neither of us knowing what to do. He starts pulling his clothes back on as fast as he can.

— I’ve never been in a fight in my whole life. I knew I shouldn’t have come here — he whispers. Then he stops, his jaw tightening. — But God knows I’ve wanted to punch your husband’s face in for a long time now.

— What? You are not getting into a fistfight with my husband. Let me handle this — I say, pulling on my bra and stepping back into my skirt as I try to calm him down. — Go away, Peter. I’ve already told you, everything between us is finished — I shout at my husband through the door.

— Open the fucking door so we can talk this out. I’ve already apologized, my love. The other woman meant nothing to me — Peter calls out.

— She might have meant nothing to you, you bastard, but she meant everything to me — the man beside me in the room says, his voice thick with rage.

— That’s just great for you then, isn’t it? Come on out here and let’s sort this out like real men.

He pushes past me to open the door — and there stands my husband, glaring back at him. I try to step between them, but they won’t let me get close enough.

— Hello, my love — my husband says, his tone sharp with anger as he looks at me. — I hope I haven’t interrupted anything important?

— What are you doing here? Didn’t you like it, what I did to your wife — the very same thing you did to mine?

— I bet you feel like quite the big man now, don’t you?! Susan was always complaining about you to me. Telling me what a useless, impotent loser you were.

— Is that so, you idiot? — he says, staring at him with pure hatred. — And when was she saying this? While you were fucking her?

— That’s right. She told me you never made her come — he says, taunting him. — Which I thought was really strange, because the easiest thing I’ve ever done was make her scream so loud coming.

— Go fuck yourself, you piece of shit — he says, shoving him.

I seize the moment to step between them, pulling them apart.

— Peter, what do you want? — I ask my husband.

— I can’t believe you slept with him — after everything you told me? — my husband says, sounding outraged. — You’re a fucking hypocrite.

— Hey — don’t speak to her like that — the man says.

— Oh, am I? I’ll speak to my wife however I please.

— You act like you care. You didn’t care about our fifteen years of marriage — so what exactly are you going to tell me now?

— I thought we were trying to work things out. Not that you’d go straight to bed with this idiot.

— Yeah, well — I slept with your wife. So what are you going to do about it?

— I ought to come in there and smash your face in — my husband says.

— Then why don’t you, you prick?

— Hey, hey — both of you, stop it right now — I say, holding my arms out between them. — You’re not children anymore. This is ridiculous.

— Put some clothes on, woman — my husband says, throwing a towel at me to cover myself. — How could you do this to us?

— Oh stop pretending, Peter — do you really want to talk about that? — I say, indignant. — You’re the one who went and found someone else first. Don’t play the victim here. If anyone threw everything away, it wasn’t me — it was you.

— And you go and sleep with this faggot just to get back at me. Well done — if your goal was to prove you’re better than me, congratulations, you succeeded.

— Who are you calling a faggot? — the man says, visibly offended.

— I called you a faggot, you idiot — Peter says, threatening him. — What are you going to do about it, huh?

— That’s enough now — the man says, stepping toward my husband, furious.

The two of them start throwing punches and kicks, and I’m not stupid — I get out of the way before I get hit too. They struggle all over the room, knocking over and breaking pictures and lamps. The man lands a punch square on my husband’s nose, making it bleed — and seeing it only makes my husband angrier, and he charges straight at him with everything he’s got. They keep trading blows while I scream at them to stop, but neither of them listens. People gather at the door, watching the fight get worse and worse. Hotel staff arrive to pull them apart — it takes everything they’ve got to separate them. The manager threatens to call the police, but I talk him out of it — I’ll pay for all the damage, I tell him. The two men keep hurling insults as the staff hold them back.

— You know what? I’m leaving — my husband says. — Come on, get your things. We’re going home — he says, holding his hand out to me.

— I’m not going anywhere with you — I say, refusing to take his hand.

— What are you talking about? We’re leaving now — he says, looking at me seriously.

I stare right back at him, just as angry, and for a moment neither of us moves.

— I’m not going to ask you again. You’re my wife — do as I say and let’s go — Peter says, his tone harder and more commanding than I’ve ever heard it.

— I’m not going anywhere with you, Peter. Leave me alone — I say, pulling his hand away from me.

— You really are worthless — my husband says, furious. — Enjoy that whore, you idiot — he says, turning his back on me as the staff lead him out.

— Oh I intend to — the man calls back, just to provoke him.

— I want both of you out of this hotel in twenty minutes — the manager says, pointing a finger at me.

— We’re leaving already — I say, watching them all file out, one by one, the manager with them.

Now it’s just the two of us again, alone in the room after all that chaos. I walk over to him, holding the towel I had wrapped around me — there’s blood on his face. He sits down on the floor, and as I get closer I see him break down crying. I sit beside him and try to comfort him.

— I never should have come here. I’m such an idiot — he says, tears welling in his eyes. — Your husband’s right. She was happier with him than she ever was with me.

— You shouldn’t listen to my husband. He’s hardly the best person to give anyone marriage advice. Look at ours — I say. — If ours was doing so perfectly, do you really think he would have cheated on me?

— Your husband really got me good. I think he broke something.

— Let me see — I tell him, as he lifts his chin and I take a look. — It’s just a cut. You won’t need stitches — I say, seeing the blood on his jaw.

— That son of a bitch. Just wait until I see him again — he says, wiping his tears away.

— You’re going to be fine — I say, smiling at him. — An ice pack will fix this.

— I bet you were watching me get beaten to a pulp and thinking: “Is this really the man I wanted to sleep with? What an idiot.”

— You say that like I’ve never slept with an idiot before. Look at my husband — I say. — And you shouldn’t go getting into fights on my behalf.

— I was only trying to defend your honour — he says, smiling. — And mine. I’m going to have to take up boxing.

— Oh please. I can defend myself perfectly well — I say, laughing. — We need to get out of here. The manager’s thrown us out.

— You don’t need to tell me twice.

I get up off the floor and help him stand. He stumbles, loses his balance, and falls back down — pulling me down on top of him. We both laugh at the mess of it.

— I feel such a fool — he says, laughing.

— Don’t blame yourself. You took quite a few blows to the head — you’re still dizzy. It’ll pass.

— I bet you’re regretting asking me here. None of what you planned actually happened.

— You’re right. I had it all planned — one big, wild sex marathon, doing it in every single room of this place.

— I would have loved to make you mine — he says, smiling.

We fall quiet, just looking at each other.

— Well — we need to go before the manager calls the police — he says, starting to get up.

— Wait — I ask him to stay.

— What’s wrong?

I rest my hand gently low on his body and begin to touch him through his trousers.

— What are you doing? — he asks, confused.

I unzip his trousers and take him in my hand — he’s already starting to harden.

— I don’t think we should — he says, his voice quiet.

— I just don’t want you going around saying I’m not a woman of my word. I brought you here for a reason — and I intend to follow through.

I begin to stroke him, slowly, up and down in my hand. I hear him moan close to my ear. He reaches for my breasts and begins caressing them. I keep touching him, steady and gentle, guiding him toward pleasure. He kisses me, moaning still. I look into his eyes as his breathing grows heavier and heavier. I pick up the pace, little by little, and feel him arching, wanting more. After a few minutes he comes in my hand, and the sound of him makes me feel hot with desire. I wipe my hand on the towel he was holding to his face. He tucks himself back into his trousers, away from my hungry eyes.

He looks at me, smiling softly, and I stand and hold out my hand to help him up from the floor.

***

Outside the hotel, there we stand after our crazy adventure, both back in our regular clothes and barely able to look each other in the eye. We stop there on the sidewalk. The day is almost coming to an end.

— I need to head that way — he says, pointing left.

— I’m going the opposite way — I say, nodding toward the right.

— Well, then… this is it — he says.

— It is — I say. — I hope my testimony helped with your custody hearing.

— It helped a great deal. Thank you for coming all this way — he says. — I’ll see you around — he says, and he pulls me into a hug — and then I lean in and kiss him gently on the lips.

I laugh a little afterwards, and so does he.

— I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me — I say, blushing.

— It’s alright — he says, giving me a quick peck in return. — There — now we’re even.

We both laugh.

— Well then… goodbye — I say. — Your lawyer has my number. If you need anything, just call.

— I’ll call you — if I need anything. Or if I just want to — he says. — Would it be alright if I called you, I don’t know… just to talk?

— I don’t think that would be such a good idea.

— Of course not — he says, shaking his head. — Forget I said it.

— You know what… why don’t you call me. I suppose we could talk a little. Exchange some information about the case — I say, acting casual, as if it were nothing.

— Alright then. I’ll call you — he says, smiling. — So… goodbye.

— Goodbye. Take care of yourself.

— You too.

We part ways and he goes his way. I’m certain that’s the end of all this madness.

I’ve barely taken a few steps when he comes back to where we stood, catching me completely by surprise.

— Hi — I say, feeling awkward when I see him there.

— Hi again — he says, just as awkward. — I was just thinking… maybe we could have dinner at that restaurant around the corner. They serve wonderful pasta — my children love it.

I stay quiet for a moment, thinking it over.

— You know what… forget it — he says, pulling a face. — You must be in a rush to get home to your children.

— I’d love to! — I answer, smiling. — The sitter can stay a little longer.

— Really? — he says, looking surprised. — Shall we go? — he asks, gesturing the way.

So we walk together toward the restaurant he pointed out. I walk beside him as he tells me how much I’m going to love the food there. I keep walking forward, and he guides me along the right path.

The End.