Page 97 of Mic Drop

“Finally!” Court exclaims. She stands. “Now what are you going to do about it?”

If only it were so easy. “I can’t. I have responsibilities here. I have to meet with our construction manager in an hour—you just set up the meeting. There are tons more things to do for the third clinic. As well as the fourth one.” I pause. “Assuming I still get paid by UC, considering I cut out before Bennett completed his physical therapy.If not, I’ll get another loan.” I rub my arm. “Besides, he’s in the South of France.”

“None of the work stuff matters when your husband is halfway across the world.”

“He’s not that far away. Barely nine hours.”

Her eyebrows raise. “Seriously? You’re correcting my geography?”

My head goes into my palms. “I can’t do this right now.” I pull myself together and rise. “I have a meeting to attend. I’ll let you know how it goes.”

“Jenna!”

“I can’t!” Ignoring Court’s pleas, I toss off these stupid emotions, gather my stuff, and leave the clinic. A short fifteen minutes later, I’m walking into clinic number three. “Hi,” I call out to the construction manager. He meets me and starts to go over necessary changes. Even if my mind isn’t in the Hamptons.

A few hours later, all the details about the clinic sorted, my head slumps against the headrest in my car. My business will remain afloat, especially since Lissa and Michelle aren’t threats any longer. Kara and I will sell Ma’s house. I’ve overcome the Black Widow nickname and the prostitution ring allegations.

I turn on my car but don’t have the strength to drive away, so I hit the power button for the radio. Hoping not to hear a UC song...or maybe I long for it too much?

After a commercial, the DJ says, “I have a treat for you, ladies and gents. I’m holding a brand-new song right here in the palm of my hand. I’ve listened to it already, and I can guarantee you’re going to love it. Here’s the deal, though. I’m not telling you who created this song. I’m going to play it for you, call me when you figure out the artist. First caller wins a signed copy of their brand-new album, which will include this song. Have a listen.”

With such a buildup, the song better be fire.

I stare at the radio as music plays the introduction. Without a singer, I can’t tell exactly which band it is. The drums beat a hardrhythm. I can discern the guitar too. Oh, there’s keys. Who could it be?

All the music cuts out, and the singer begins.

It’s a male. Tenor.

My hand flies in front of my face. “No way.”

Bennett’s voice,a capella,comes over the radio. Stripped bare, he sings:

I held you in my arms

Kept your demons at bay

Believed our love was enough

Tell me I’m wrong, wrong

Sent in a surprise attack

Promised to take them down

And removed the final barrier

Please accept my display and come back to me

I need you with me now and forever

Prove our vows were meant to be

You make me a better man

All I want to be is yours. Yours

Instruments re-enter the song, loud and powerful. I can’t breathe. I can’t see for all the tears clouding my vision, memories of Bennett telling me he never sings alone, yet he’s done it—twice—with me. For me.

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