Page 3 of Mister Musician

“What do you want… Malcolm?”

Tristan looked up, holding back her smile. Saint hated being named after his father—that was no secret. Hell, Tristan was with him when he filled out the paperwork to have his name changed. Still, every chance she had to get under his skin, she took.

“Who did you have sex with before me for your birthday?”

“Why?”

“Whoever it is, they gave you syphilis.”

“Wh—how…” Her head shook as she sat back in her seat.

“You gave it to me, and I gave it to my girl.” He shrugged as he stood. “With this, I can go to my lawyer and finally prove you’ve been cheating and divorce your ass.”

Tristan chuckled as she stood as well. “Good luck with that. You still have no proof that I cheated. My lawyer will argue that you’re the one who cheated since you found out first. You can divorce me if you want, but you lose everything in the process. Your name, your royalties, your masters. Is being free from me worth losing all that?”

His fists opened and closed. Closing his eyes, Saint inhaled a deep breath. Tristan was glad because she needed a moment to compose herself. The weekend before her birthday, she scratched a threesome off her bucket list. It did strike her a little odd that the men she chose were more interested in fucking each other than her, but Tristan went with it. Days later, she found out the two were heavy in the down-low circuit after sharing pictures of them at her hair salon.

It never crossed her mind that she could have gotten something from them, especially syphilis. The one time she allowed herself to be free and risky, she was about to pay for it. Not only with her health but by creating an even bigger wedge between her and Saint. All Tristan could do was thank God that it could be cured and promise not to be so reckless with her body again.

“Did you ever really love me?” he asked, opening his eyes. “Or was it always just a ploy to use me?”

Her head shook as she licked her lips and swallowed hard. Contrary to what Saint believed, she did love him. Shestillloved him. But because he didn’t return that love, it turned to hate. At this point in her life, Tristan would rather have him as an enemy in her home than not have him at all. He’d been her everything since they were sixteen.

Now over nineteen years later, Saint wanted to be nothing to her at all. It didn’t matter how much she told herself people changed with time and marriages ended because of it, Tristan couldn’t pull herself to let him go.

“I’m not going to give you a divorce,” she reminded, sitting down in her seat. Her knees had gotten weak, and if he saw it… “I’m sorry if I gave you that, but I’m also not going to take blame for it until I know for sure I have it and was the cause. You sleep with bitches all the time so…”

“One,” he corrected. “Only one. And you know that.” He chuckled as he headed toward the door. “You hate that. You probably knew you had this shit and gave it to me just to be spiteful. Just to make her leave me.”

“Oh, please.” Tristan scoffed. “You think I’m that obsessed with you and that bitch? Fuck youandfuck her. Get the hell out of my office, and before you come back in here again, remember, I own you. I’m not letting you go untilI’mdone with you. Go take your dirty dick having ass to the free clinic and get me a prescription too. Oh! Make sure no one recognizes you. Your publicist will have her hands full trying to pay off all those bloggers to keep their silence if they were to find out.”

It felt like eternities passed as he stared at her. When Saint finally did look away, he said, “I really hate you,” before leaving her office.

As soon as the door closed, Tristan released the breath she was holding. Tears instantly began to fall as she pulled a bottle of vodka out of her drawer. Chugging it until she choked, Tristan wiped her eyes and pulled deep breaths through trembling lips.

ChapterThree

Harmony

“Thankyou so much for agreeing to meet me here,” Harmony said, accepting the keys to the library from Kahlil. “I don’t think I could have waited to come and walk around.”

“I understand.” Kahlil looked toward the library. “You can’t own something like this and not want to spend every free moment that you have here.”

“I can’t imagine how difficult this is for you.”

Kahlil smiled, finally returning his eyes to hers. “It’s difficult, I can’t lie, but I’m ready for the next phase of my life. This library has served its purpose for me and my family. It’s time I release it and be on to something new.”

Harmony released a shaky breath as she nodded and looked down at the keys in her hand. This moment felt surreal. From the day Kahlil opened this library, Harmony visited it at least twice a week. Outside of renting books, she wrote her own there as well. Through casual conversation, Kahlil learned she was an author and immediately added a few of her titles to the shelves. Harmony hadn’t cried as hard as she did the day she walked inside the library and saw her books showcased, but she was sure she’d cry just as hard when the fact that this was her library settled within her spirit.

“If you need anything, call me,” Kahlil added before beginning to walk away.

Harmony felt like Celie at the end ofThe Color Purplewhen she danced and shimmied toward the house she inherited after her father died. Her smile was so wide her cheeks hurt as she darted to the front door. Eyes shifting in awe, Harmony took in the rows and rows of books… the black carpet… the high ceilings. Wiping tears that slipped down her cheeks, Harmony released a low giggle before scurrying down every aisle. By the time she’d ran through the entire library, she was hunched over and out of breath, but her smile remained.

Making her way up front to the checkout counters, Harmony leaned against one and pulled her phone out of her fanny pack. The first person she wanted to call was her fiancé, Keith. As her life partner, Keith was always the first person Harmony wanted to share her good news with, though lately, there was unsurety laced with excitement over what she was doing… and sharing. It made her heart hurt to feel as if she had to second guess or censor what she shared with Keith because of his sickness and the outlook it gave him on life, but Harmony called anyway and hoped her happiness would lift his spirit.

“Hello?” he answered, and the sound of his voice made Harmony smile.

“Hey, babe. What you doing?”

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