Being a completely fictional continuation of part 9, graciously provided by Motherdear.
It was several years later that I happened to be shopping at the local Sam's Club with my family, and I saw a lovely, lissome creature half an aisle away. She had long dark hair and gorgeous legs. Something about her looked vaguely familiar, perhaps the way she moved, the way she shook her head…
I stared at her back, for probably a minute or two, trying to remember where I had seen her before. Then she turned around with her carriage, coming back down the aisle toward me. Her face, so strange, yet so familiar…
…and as she neared me, I realized it was the Fat Indian Bitch. No longer fat. Still Indian, possibly still a bitch… but sincerely, no longer fat.
We made brief eye contact and she recognized me immediately.
She stopped, a look of terror momentarily passing over her face, but it evaporated quickly when I grinned at her. She relaxed, and grinned back. It lit up her features, which in the glaring fluorescent light of Sam's Club, was almost pretty.
My wife caught me making meaningful eye contact with her, and nudged me sharply in the ribs. I quickly looked at the wife, and said "Honey, this is an old friend…" and introduced them.
My wife stood by while we talked. She explained that she was now married, and had just found out that she was going to have her first child. Her face glowed with the news. My wife and she locked eyes, and a gentle understanding passed between them. The wife relaxed, realizing she had nothing to fear from this stranger's history with me.
We exchanged pleasantries, caught up for a few minutes, and then, she said suddenly,
"I have to thank you for something."
"For what do you need to thank me?" I asked, honestly dumbfounded. I didn't think our history held anything even remotely suggesting either of us be grateful to the other…
"I was young, stupid, confused. I was crazy about you. And you never took advantage of me, and you could have," she said.
"I, uh, didn't think that would be fair to you… and I really didn't want to take advantage of you." I replied.
"Oh, I know that now, you made it plain at the end that being with me was something as desirable as having your head taken off with a rusty chain saw, and you were never dishonest with me, never led me on. But I really didn't want to see that then, and really needed the fantasy that I could make you grow to love me. But you knew that, and you still never took advantage of me. It must have been extremely uncomfortable for you, but you never made me pay for it."
I was floored. The wife had a look of 'I'm the cat who ate the canary' on her face.
I stammered, "Well, your brother was my friend, we were roomies, and it just wouldn't have been right. You were a nice person, just young, and it wasn't right."
She continued "Oh, don't justify it. Every girl needs her knight in shining armor. If you had taken me, and I would have let you, you know - well, you would have been just the first in a long line of men who hurt me and used me. Instead, you were the one who preserved my honor, my dignity. You are the one who was kind enough to be cruel. It took me awhile to understand it, but I finally got the message. I was worth more than that. You gave me a great gift, one I will always be grateful for. And that makes you my knight in shining armor - you're the guy who refused to sweep me off my feet."
Again, I was speechless. I looked into her big, dark eyes, and saw a genuine warmth. And at that moment, she was the loveliest creature I had ever seen.
We parted after she gave both my wife and I a gentle hug. We continued shopping.
As I laid in bed that night, all I could think of was 'what would have been' if I had given her what she wanted at 18, because it would have been easier than to fight her off. I guess my mind ran away with me for awhile, because I fell asleep thinking of her in my room, that last night, listening to music and just hanging out.
When I woke the next morning, my wife served me muffins and coffee in bed, then screwed my socks off. I asked her why, later, when basking in the afterglow. Her response was just a wistful grin, before she got up to shower again and dress.
I walked a little taller that day. I was proud of the Fat Indian Bitch, now an almost-beautiful, slim, mom-to-be, at peace with herself. I was proud of my wife for not getting all territorial and possessive on me when we talked to the Fat Indian Bitch in the aisles of Sam's Club.
But most of all, I was proud of me. Yes, really proud, and at peace. Like she said… sometimes, you have to be cruel to be kind.
THE END?