My Husband Turned My Madness Into a Live Show Chapter 02

My Husband Turned My Madness Into a Live Show Chapter 02

“Nolan, let’s get divorced.”

Tears blurred my vision, and all I could hear was my own hoarse voice.

Nolan, who had been guiding the reporters through their shots, finally looked up at me, his brow furrowed.

Just as he was about to speak, his phone rang.

Glancing at the caller ID, he broke into a grin and answered.

“Of course. The celebration dinner’s all ready, I’ll be right back.

“I’ll transfer the money to her. You’re the kindest one, after all.”

After hanging up, he pulled a check out of his pocket.

“Take it. This is your performance fee from Winona.”

I laughed when I saw the number on it.

Ten thousand dollars, to buy out five years of my life in hell.

I tore the check into pieces violently and hurled it straight at him.

“I said, I want a divorce!”

Nolan’s face instantly darkened.

“If we divorce now, what’s gonna happen to Winona’s show? She’ll get torn apart by gossip. Cut the drama.”

All my anger immediately turned ice-cold, like I’d been doused with cold water.

I let out a bitter laugh.

Even my request for a divorce had to take a backseat to Winona.

Nolan stormed out, slamming the door behind him. I threw a couch pillow at him like a raving lunatic.

When I walked out of the psychiatric ward that had caged me for five years, I felt no joy of being free again.

Taxi drivers and passersby all stepped out of my way when they saw my patient uniform.

A promo for Winona’s show was playing on the giant downtown screen.

She stood there in a sharp, tailored dress, while unflattering photos of me as the “featured guest” were everywhere.

I walked barefoot down the street and opened her social media feed.

In these five years, she’d become mother to my son, and wife to my husband.

They’d been to Disney, the Eiffel Tower, ridden in a hot air balloon, and gone deep-sea diving.

They’d traveled to every corner of the country and abroad.

Nolan once told me he hated traveling. Every time I suggested going, he’d shut me down.

“You’re not a kid anymore. When would I have time to run around with you? Cut me some slack, will you?”

But he not only went with Winona alone, he took thousands of photos.

Silly ones, cute ones, intimate ones—even blurry ones he kept.

Yet he wouldn’t even take a single wedding photo with me.

What stung the most was how he supported Winona’s career.

He poured millions into launching her career, handing her every opportunity on a silver platter.

But he knew perfectly well that if I hadn’t been locked up in that psych ward, I would’ve been a famous director by now.

I tor//tured myself scrolling through it over and over, until I had no tears left to cry.

When I looked up again, I’d unconsciously walked all the way back to the house by memory.

I tried the door lock code several times, but it just said “Incorrect Password” every time.

A bodyguard kicked me hard to the side.

“Mr. Farley doesn’t allow you in. Ms. Johnson is the mistress of this house now. Go find somewhere else to stay!”

He glanced back and glared at me with contempt. “Psycho.”

I collapsed weakly on the ground. Through the glass window, I saw the three of them sitting around the dining table eating, laughing together as a happy family.

This warm scene was exactly what I used to dream about.

But now, the woman of the house wasn’t me.

Broke and penniless, I spent the night huddled on the cold sidewalk.

The next day, I went back to my job at the company, but the boss kicked me out immediately.

“You still dare show your face here? What production would let a nutjob like you be in charge? Mr. Farley just called with orders. Be smart and get out of here.”

Thinking of my mother, who was still hospitalized, I was frantic with desperation.

“How could he—”

Before I could finish my sentence, Nolan’s call came through.

“Josette Bennett, you know perfectly well Winona poured five years of her life into this reality show. Why are you trying to ruin her project?”