I have impeccable aim. That’s why we perform in front of packed venues all over the country. People gasp in awe as my wife and I demonstrate our knife-throwing act flawlessly. She doesn’t even flinch as I throw razor-sharp knives in rapid succession while blindfolded. In twenty years, I have never missed, not even during rehearsal.
One night, we were performing in Nevada, the audience thrilled by both the immaculate knife throwing and the sight of my gorgeous wife in a skimpy outfit. Once it ended, we walked off the stage and I came face-to-face with my tall dark-haired friend.
“Exquisite job, Jasper. I wouldn’t expect anything less,” said Eduardo, clapping me on the back. He was our long-time friend and manager, who toured with us and booked us gigs.
“How was I?” Celeste asked.
I glared at her. Things had not been the same between us lately. In our two decades together, I had always been the apple of her eye. But in the past several months, I couldn’t remember one loving thing she had said to me. There was also the fact that we hadn’t had sex in forever. I was sick of her being distant.
The next day, Celeste and Eduardo went shopping for new supplies for our show. I told them I had a headache and wanted to lie down. Truthfully, I wanted to search through Celeste’s laptop for clues.
I accessed her email and checked her entire inbox, finally moving onto the deleted items folder. Sure enough, I found numerous messages between her… and Eduardo. I should’ve fucking known. No wonder she hadn’t said anything affectionate towards me in months; she was directing all of that to him. I sifted through lovey-dovey emails in which they discussed what they would do after Celeste left me. To say I was furious would be an understatement.
I thought for hours about what to do. When Celeste and Eduardo returned, I could barely look at them. But I had to pretend I was fine because we had our biggest show ever in Las Vegas that night.
At 8:15pm, I was performing in front an enormous crowd. Celeste stood across the stage, her back against a large wooden board. We were warming up with some easy throws. I chucked a few knives, and then paused when I picked up the next one, watching it glimmer beautifully in the stage lights. I lifted it up and took an extra couple seconds to make sure my aim was perfect.
THUMP! The knife pierced my wife’s chest. She started shrieking as blood immediately gushed from the deep wound. The audience panicked as parents covered their crying kids’ eyes and others pulled out cell phones to call 911.
I feigned shock and horror, but inside I was elated. I knew the audience thought I had messed up royally. But only I knew that, yet again, I was right on target. I told you: I never miss it.