"You Goddamn son of a bitch!"
Bobby haplessly nibbled on the cheese platter he had prepared as a late hour snack, while his brother and sister-in-law escalated into World War III. A little more hair and a little less back pain, and it would have been as if he had time-travelled back a decade or three.
"How dare you have me followed?" Sue Ellen's eyes were wild with fury, equally maddened at herself that she had failed to notice her second shadow.
"I drove by your office this afternoon," J.R.'s voice was notably more sedate than Sue Ellen. In the previous month or so, he had done little more than raise an eyebrow when his wife returned home uncharacteristically late, or declined his call, but his naiveté had reached its more than reasonable limit. "That pretty little assistant of yours seemed to think you and I have a standing weekly appointment, so who exactly is it that has the pleasure of your company every Wednesday, Miss Texas?"
The snideness of that label fired her fury a little more. "Why bother to ask?" Sue Ellen shot back at her husband, infuriated by his invasion of her privacy and blatant lack of trust. "I'm sure your bloodhound could sniff out the answer for you," she tossed the black-and-white candids J.R. had produced onto the bed, the pictures of her departure from a Westwood Park townhouse evidenced her routine rendezvous.
"I'd rather hear it from you," he cooly retorted. Truthfully, Bum had dug around for all the information he could but the purchase records for the property were off-limits, even to J.R., and that indicated real power.
"J.R.," Sue Ellen whispered his name. His eyes were dulled by her apparent betrayal. Jealousy held him in its fist, for which she could only empathise. With every year that passed, the dynamic of their relationship shifted a little more; she had retained her youthful Miss Texas beauty and men half her years lusted after her relentlessly, while his insecurities threatened to swallow him whole. Still, she remained steadfast in her upset, "I will not be bullied into submission."
"I suppose this is your warped deliverance of payback. Your turn to even the score after all the affairs I had the first time we were married."
"First and second time," his wife of twenty years smarted, a low blow after his two-decade period of fidelity.
J.R. loudly harrumphed, "Well, if you think I'm 'bout to sit by and wallow in self-pity like you, honey -"
"For God sake, J.R., I am not cheatin' on you." Any patience she once possessed had worn thin, "I have not been with another man, at least not in the way you think." She soothed her forehead with the palm of her hand, as a headache thumped its way into existence. "It's late and I'm very tired. I think it best I stay in the city." After they had remarried, under the principle of third-times-the-charm, Sue Ellen had wisely retained possession of her penthouse apartment in Dallas and it was the safest haven to ride out whatever storm hit Southfork next. "We can discuss this when we're both a little more rational," Sue Ellen inched toward the vanity, where J.R. had lay in wait for her return and leaned down to gingerly kiss his forehead. "Let's have breakfast."
As she collected her keys, purse and neared the doorway of their bedroom, J.R. instinctively blurted out, "Do you love him?"
Sue Ellen bit her bottom lip and replied, before she fled from view, "Yes, I do."
J.R. drummed the wheel of his Mercedes-Benz, as he stalked the property his wife conducted her sordid little affair in. In his wildest dreams, J.R. would never have believed Sue Ellen would be the first to break their marital vows. At first, he had suspected relapse - her sudden secretive behaviour and the frequent absences from family dinners at Southfork - but, once he had established her sobriety remained intact, an affair was the only plausible explanation.
The quaint townhouse had become shrouded in darkness and the hours J.R. had spent in surveillance struck an ache in his back, yet it was no match for the pain in his heart. He pondered how and why he and Sue Ellen seemed destined to an eternity of misery. Sure, he could embark on an affair of his own but he didn't want to - even J.R. was incredulous at the loyalty he had shown Sue Ellen, which only made this affair harder to accept.
Finally, she appeared for her timely departure and hurried toward her own parked vehicle. Every Wednesday like clockwork… "Sue Ellen."
"J.R.," her surprise was palpable when his voice beckoned her name.
"I warned you I would not be made a fool of, darlin'," he replied, somewhat sympathetically to her duress. "I've been real patient and I believe I've been more than fair but I cannot - I will not - allow this affair of yours to continue. I refuse to be humiliated any further." Any plea for him to drive her home to Southfork, the promise of an explanation, was dismissed - unheard, perhaps - and J.R. physically wrenched away from her to slam his fist onto the door. "Get out here, coward!"
"J.R., please," she scrambled to curl her hand around his clenched fist, ready - if not, able - to punch out whoever appeared.
When the door finally did open, J.R. was stunned into silence. There he was - his son, his boy - except he had evolved into a man since the last time J.R. had laid eyes upon him. John Ross appraised his father's fury, which subsided with every second that passed, "Hello, J.R.."