Disclaimer: none of these characters belong to me!
What would have happened if Roxie hadn't shot Fred?
"You son of a bitch!" Roxie cried, "You're a son of a bitch!"
She was slumped against the wall, squashed between the big chest-of-drawers and the corner. Sobbing, she watched her one-time lover, Fred Casely, walk through out through her apartment and slam the door. She didn't have the strength left to get up, even though Amos, her husband, was due back soon.
"He lied to me!" she said softly to herself.
Roxie was still in the same place when Amos came in, tiptoeing into the bedroom in order not to wake her. She had, in fact, almost dozed off, cramped as her conditions were, but he still did a double take.
"Rox!" he said, "What're you doing up so late? And why are you crying? And why are you sitting down there?"
"Oh, stop being such a goddam question mark!" she snapped back. She surprised herself, she hadn't realised how irritated she had been with her husband, ever since- well, ever since she had started her string of affairs, she supposed. Amos looked hurt.
"Gee, Roxie, I was only asking you what you were doing down there."
"Yeah, well," she murmured disgruntledly.
"So, what's the matter?" asked Amos, hauling her up.
"Don't you touch me!" said Roxie, pulling away.
She sat down on the bed. Amos sat beside her, a safe distance away.
"For God's sake, quit being so touchy! What's wrong with you, Rox?"
Roxie didn't answer for a second, then swung around to face her husband.
"Okay, Amos, here's what the matter is. You're so boring, in bed and out of it, I have to find myself someone I can have a bit of fun with. Who'll take me to theatres an' stuff, and who won't treat me like some dumb wife who just stays at home all day darning your socks, mending your shirts. Amos, I need more than that!"
Amos sat completely still. Then he spoke, his face burning red.
"You mean, you've had an affair?"
"Uh-huh, about thirty," nodded Roxie, not caring what she said now.
Amos' face moved through shades of purple, scarlet, back to crimson. A vein was standing out on his forehead, and suddenly he stood up, and shouted, "Get out! Thought you could pull the wool over my eyes, huh? Thought I was boring? Well, you can damn well get out of this apartment right now, Roxanne!"
He held his fist up as if to hit Roxie, and she cowered under it. But then, thinking better of it, Amos lowered his hand, and pointed towards the door.
"Now!" he yelled.
Roxie scurried over to the wardrobe where a small case was, and hurriedly stuffed some clothes, her toothbrush from the bathroom, some makeup, and a few other essential items into it. Then, only stopping to put on a fur coat and some terribly unpractical stilettos, she was out of the door, without another glance at Amos. She felt for her purse, and satisfied that it was there, she closed the door, just as Fred Casely had done earlier, to her old apartment and old life.
It was only when she was standing outside the block of apartments that she realised she didn't have a clue where she would go.
"Holy shit!" Roxie said, not caring who heard her, "What have I gone and done now!"
Now, you know what you have to do....R&R, please!