Page 75 of Mic Drop

ROCK STAR

I miss your kiss. I miss your touch. I miss your smile.

ROCK STAR

Please come back to me.

I stop reading and type him a message:

Looks like you were right about Lissa and Michelle teaming up. We can shut them down by letting the world know we’re splitting up. I’m at the attorney’s office now. She wants to know where we can serve you the divorce papers? Should I have them sent to Secluded Rest?

“There,” I address Suzette. “Sent. I’m sure he’ll say the place he bought, in town, Secluded Rest, so you can put that on the papers for now.”

“Will do.”

The alert for a text comes in, and Bennett’s name comes through. I glance at the lawyer. “He’s gotten back to me.” I open the text:

I’m not accepting them.

Chapter 21

Bennett

In the basement, I punch the bag. Hard. Harder. Again and again. How can this be happening to me?

Sweat rolls off my body when I stop and rip the boxing gloves off my hands with my teeth. I walk over to the bar and grab a bottle of water. In two gulps, it’s gone. I take a third.

Jenna didn’t answer any of my texts. Or pleading voicemails. All she did is ask where to serve me with divorce papers.Divorce papers! I know grief can do crazy things to people, but make newlyweds separate? That has to be a record.

The phone rings and I jump to see if Jenna’s mind is working straight and she’s finally calling me. Luke’s name is on FaceTime.

Fuck.

On the third ring, I answer the call, bottle of water against my temple.

“I would ask how you’re doing, B, but a picture is worth a thousand words.”

I bring the water to my lips. “What do you want?”

“I need to find out how my lead singer is doing.”

“Always protecting the band,” I snark. “I’malive.”

“How’s Jenna doing?”

Boom.

His question hangs out in the air for a few moments. What should I tell him? That I’m a miserable failure—again—and she left me? I shrug. “She left.”

“Oh. That’s good right? She’s getting out there.”

My head shakes. “No. You misunderstand. She left.” I inhale. “Me.”

His eyes double in size. “What do you mean, she left you? You’re not making any sense.”

None of this does. Ever since her mother passed away, none of Jenna’s actions add up. “What I mean is her last text asked whether I’ll accept service of the divorce papers at Secluded Rest.” I put the phone on a table so Luke can’t see me crumple to the floor, holding onto the gym mats like they were a lifeline.

“Divorce?”

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