She started to cry.
I told her not to ruin her makeup.
I drove home alone.
The highway was empty.
I played nothing on the radio.
When I got home, I sat down at the kitchen table with my laptop and the venue contract Dana had sent me.
I read through it carefully, the way I read every contract I’ve worked on for the past 9 years.
Then I opened a separate document and started to write.
My husband came home at midnight.
I was still at the kitchen table.
He saw the laptop and the notepad covered in my handwriting and he said, “What are you doing?”
I said, “Working.”
He sat down across from me.
He said, “About tonight.”
I said, “I know.”
He said, “She shouldn’t have.”
I said, “No, she shouldn’t have.”
He said, “I should have said something.”
I looked at him then.
Really looked at him.
I said, “Yes. You should have. A long time ago.”
He slept in the guest room that night.
