My Husband Sold Our Perfect Marriage on Tour, So I Ended It on Stage novel · Chapter 21 of 24

Chapter 21: Lights

The dark lasted only a moment, my wrist still locked in Brendan's grip.

Then every house light in the Lyric Auditorium came up at once, full white, brighter than any show.

Three thousand faces blinked up at the stage.

Every camera in the room turned its red eye on my husband.

"Cue forty-four," Jack's voice said calmly in my ear. "House to full. I'm sorry, Mr. Schneider. The kill switch isn't connected to anything. It's a prop."

Brendan stared at his hand on the lectern.

He looked down at the little black box he had pressed.

It was painted plywood.

"I built it for the rehearsal," Jack said, in the speakers, to the whole auditorium. "You asked for one."

Somebody in the balcony laughed.

Then somebody else did.

Brendan let go of my wrist.

He stepped back, and for the first time in my life I saw him without a face.

There was nothing to see.

Then he found one.

He turned to the cameras, wet-eyed, broken, a good man ambushed.

"This is a private matter," he said, his voice trembling. "My wife is very sick. She's been unwell since the accident."

"Mr. Schneider."

The voice came from the aisle.

It was low and warm and carried.

The radio host stood in row F, with her braid down her back, holding up her phone.

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