Private: Do Not Read
Setting: House, the foyer.
(lights up, mail is dropped through the mail slot, first several pieces, pause, then a final letter, enter Aaron from the wings, picks up mail, leafs through it)
Aaron: No... what... no... no... (last letter in his hand, reading aloud) "Private: Do not read" Well, I guess I already have. (opens letter)
"Dear Aaron... If you are reading these words, it is because you opened a letter marked 'Private: Do not read' and decided to read it anyway. This is the final proof I needed to show you that I can no longer trust you. Therefore, I want a divorce. Love, Eva."
(Eva bursts through the door, snapping pictures of Aaron holding the letter)
Eva: Haaa! Caught you! I knew that one would work!
Aaron: (in a monotone, underwhelmed) Yes. Wow. Good work, Eva.
Eva: What do you have to say for yourself, you dishonorable rat?!
Aaron: Once again... guilty.
Eva: I win!
Aaron: You win.
Eva: Now, we can get a divorce! No judge will side with you in the face of this damning evidence! (pointing at opened letter and brandishing camera)
Eva: Don't even try to explain this one away, Aaron. You can't be trusted. You know it! I know it!
Aaron: Why can't I be trusted, Eva?
Eva: You read the letter!
Aaron: It was delivered to my house. It had no name on it. Can I not assume it was intended for me?
Eva: It could have been for me!
Aaron: Possibly, but...
Eva: So you had no business reading it!
Aaron: I should have left it for you to open and read?
Aaron: But, what if you opened it, read it and discovered it was for me?
Eva: Sucker! I knew it was for you! So, I never would have done that!
Aaron: (sighs) Of course you knew it was for me, you obviously wrote it to me and slid it in the mail slot.
Eva: You can't prove that!
Aaron: No, it's not worth proving.
Eva: So, you admit you were wrong?!
Aaron: Wrong to have married you, certainly. Not wrong to have read my own mail in my own house.
Eva: My house too!
Aaron: It would be your house if you were ever here.
Eva: Don't you bring that up!
Aaron: Eva, you left three years ago, with Ramon...
Eva: You vicious...
Aaron: Came back after three weeks, then left with Ramon's brother, Augusto...
Eva: Augusto, no! You pig!
Aaron: Came back a couple months later, then promptly ran away with Julio...
Eva: Bastard! You're so cruel! So I like Latino men!
Aaron: Came back the next spring, begging forgiveness, and then spirited off to the big city with Ingrid.
Eva: And Swedish women! You horrible, horrible...
Aaron: Came back, swearing heterosexuality, and left two weeks later with both Ramon and Augusto.
Eva: Sometimes I like two Latino men! How dare you!
Aaron: Then you came back, entered a convent, broke out, and left with Father McAllister.
Eva: You asshole! It was Bishop McAllister, and you know it.
Aaron: All the while, you kept refusing to divorce me; because you knew I'd get a lot of your money since you were clearly the partner at fault.
Eva: I was no! such! thing!
Aaron: So, now I have to put up with your little schemes to frame me with "evidence" of grievous harm to your body or spirit... stabbing your hand with my Swiss Army knife, backing over your own cat with my car, posting naked pictures of yourself on my website, this inane letter... it's not going to work, Eva. Please stop.
Eva: You're just not man enough to admit when you're wrong!
Aaron: Again, wrong to have married you, yes. Wrong about trusting you, yes. Wrong about where the fault for this bad marrriage lies, no.
Eva: (changing tactics) Oh, Aaron, you're so steadfast... resolute... firm... (advancing on him, hand on his chest) How can I continue treating you this way? We have to start fresh. New. I'm sorry about the letter. I do trust you. I do. I've been so wrong for the past three years. Let's just forget it all: Ramon, Augusto, Julio, Ingrid, Ramon and Augusto together, the bishop, that rugby team... all of it, gone... poof. Just Aaron and Eva, again, like the first five months? Those glorious five months of wedded bliss, all over again? Huh? What do you say?
Aaron: (playing along) Eva. I don't know... there's just something about you that's not really credible in matters concerning my heart.
Aaron: Oh, I know what it is... your words. That's the in-credible part. You are saying words; therefore, you're lying.
Eva: (storming out) Watch it, Aaron!! This time, I'm running away with a divorce attorney! (slams door behind her)
Aaron: (opens door, calls out in an almost-disinterested fashion) Latino, Swedish or Catholic?