Page 30 of Mic Drop (Passionate Beats #3)

Bennett

L eaning against the wall, I watch my wife walking from person to person.

She’s talking, accepting hugs and shit, but she’s not here .

There’s no life in this version of her. She doesn’t search the room for me, nor does she return any of my touches.

In fact, she sent me away to get us drinks an hour ago and hasn’t questioned why I haven’t returned.

Why haven’t I?

Like every woman I’ve ever known, she’s leaving me. Step by step. I heard what she said to her mother in the hospital room, about how I’m to blame for her death, but I thought her anger would subside as other stages of grief took over. It hasn’t. Now I’m freaking out.

If I call her out on it, how would she react?

Would she deny it, and tell me I’m delusional?

More likely, she’d ask me to go away and give her space.

Now that I’ve found her, that’s the last thing on earth I want to do.

I want to be her rock, the one person above all others who gives her comfort.

Her grief is messing with her head, though, and I can’t figure out a way to break through .

Coop approaches, a plate in his hand, “Hey, these meatballs are the bomb.”

“Glad they meet your approval.”

He eats in silence for a beat. “Jenna seems like she’s doing well.”

“Yeah.” I shift my weight between my feet. “For a lost soul.”

“Hey, it’s tough when you lose a parent.” He shoves another meatball into his mouth. “As I’m sure you remember. Faith was her only parent, right?”

I scan the crowd for the balding comb-over, but her father’s nowhere to be seen. “She has a father, but he hasn’t been in her life much.” Not going into detail about a story that’s not mine to tell.

My bandmate shoves the final meatball into his mouth. “You know this will hit her hard. Be there for her. Jenna’s the real deal.”

I stare at my feet. “She is. She’s hurting right now.”

Coop dumps his empty plate onto a tray. “Then take her mind off it. How about whisking her away to a Caribbean island for the next week? We have time before our tour starts up again in Europe.”

I consider his idea. Maybe a change of scenery is what the doctor ordered?

“That’s not a bad idea. Where are you jetting off to?

” With over a week free from touring, I remember hearing the guys talking about their plans, but I can’t think of one detail.

I was going to spend it with Jenna, preferably in our bed.

Naked. Given how she’s acting, I don’t think this will happen.

“I’m leaving with Río for Jamaica in a couple of hours. Looking forward to some sun and sand and beverages.”

I nudge his abdomen. “I bet the ladies won’t be too bad, either.”

“Good bet.” He finishes his drink. “Join us?”

I don’t waste a second on his offer. “Nah. Jenna needs to stay local and tie up loose ends.” My only hope is I can pull her out of the dark pit into which she’s descended.

I track my wife as she and her sister make their rounds. Her sister, an anesthesiologist with over a decade more lived experience on Jenna, seems to be handling this better than my wife. Maybe she can get through to her ?

Coop’s extolling the virtues of his Jamaican hideaway when I straighten. Jenna and Kara are approaching...their father. Where was he hiding? No matter, I can’t believe he had the guts to show his face here, especially after the funeral.

My hand goes to the guitarist’s shoulder.

“Gotta run. I think I see a problem brewing and I don’t want things to get too out of hand.

” Perhaps telling her father off is what he deserves, but not here.

Later. When Jenna returns to her normal self.

Until then, I don’t want her to be mortified at her actions today.

I stalk toward the threesome, nodding at Kara’s husband and bringing him along with me. As we approach, I hear Kara say, “We said what needed to be said at the funeral. Please leave.”

The old dude shoves his hands in his pockets but stands firm. “Faith and I had a complicated relationship.” Jenna snorts. “We kept ties until the end.”

He faces Kara. “She was so proud when you graduated medical school. She never stopped talking about your life in the City, or your family, or your big fancy job.”

Kara’s husband and I trade glances, and he wraps his arm around her. I do the same for my wife.

Then her father turns to Jenna, who trembles beneath my hand. “And you, our baby. She thought your becoming a physical therapist was perfect for you. When you got caught up in the Darren mess, she was there to help you, but I was in the background. I never abandoned you.”

“You never showed your face,” Jenna contradicts in a nasty tone, one I’ve never heard from her.

“No.” Her father moves his foot on the floor. “I didn’t want to confuse the issue.”

“Then why are you here now?”

Jenna has a good point. What’s he trying to prove at this late stage?

“Maybe I’m trying to atone.” He lifts his head.

“I loved your mother but wasn’t man enough for her, and ran when things got difficult.

When you were starting kindergarten, Jenna, all I could think of was I couldn’t go through all this again, like I did with your sister.

The dances and projects and book reports nearly drove me out of my mind the first time, but I did them for Faith.

The second time, though, I didn’t have it in me.

Our love wasn’t enough to keep me in the house. ”

“So you left us,” Jenna concludes. “No birthday cards, no holiday gifts, nothing.”

His entire being wilts. “I couldn’t give you what you needed. I was there with Faith, though. She always kept me updated with your achievements. I celebrated the big ones.”

Kara’s expression softens. “Like my wedding.”

“And graduations. Congrats on being an anesthesiologist. It’s a big deal.”

As if this dude had any part in her achievements. However, it’s not my thoughts that matter. Kara reaches her hand toward him, which he clasps. I track my gaze to Jenna, who shows no such acceptance. After a minute, my wife simply walks away. I make a hasty retreat after her.

“What are you feeling?” I reach for her shoulders, but she keeps moving.

“Nothing.” She strides forward. “I don’t care if Ma forgave him. If Kara’s welcoming him back into her life. I’m not doing any such thing. He had his chance, and he missed it.” She approaches the buffet table but makes no move to pick up a plate.

“What can I do for you, Sweetheart?”

Tortured gray eyes meet mine. “Nothing.” Her head snaps to one side. “Excuse me, I need to talk with some people.” With that, she’s gone.

Standing alone, I stare at the food but don’t see any of it. What can I do to reach my wife?

I stand by a table filled with photos of Faith throughout her life. My gaze caresses the one of her, Jenna, and me taken during our first dinner together. Who knew such innocence soon would be shattered?

Luke approaches. “How are you doing, B?”

“I hate that question.” I turn my back to the table and face our manager. “How am I supposed to be doing at my mother-in-law’s funeral?”

“You got me there. Don’t have one of them.” He shrugs. “Or a wife.”

Ever since Faith died, it doesn’t feel as if I have one either.

“I can tell you it sucks. Faith accepted me into her family, then she died. Jenna’s a freaking disaster.

Her deadbeat father’s here, raising all sorts of issues.

So, I’m doing pretty shitty, thanks for asking. ” My arms cross over my torso.

“Come here,” he pulls me into a corner. “Let it out. You shouldn’t keep all these emotions locked inside. Rail against God, the world, fate. Whatever. Tell me how you’re really feeling.”

I open my mouth, prepared to share all my secrets, when I get a text. As does Luke. Around the room, I see the other members of my band pulling out their phones as well. “What the hell?”

Luke’s already read the text by the time I fish my phone out of my pocket. “Crap. Why can’t these vultures go away for even one day.”

Filled with foreboding, I click in my text, which is a link from the PR team. Now the whole world knows about Faith’s death, saying the Black Widow struck again. Another link shows Lissa expanding on her lie about me having gotten her pregnant. “For fuck’s sake.”

“Listen to me. We’ll get this under control.”

All the negative emotions bubble inside me. “Do it.” I leave our manager in search of Jenna. When I find her, I want to go all caveman for a different reason.

Austin is hugging her, and Jenna’s hanging onto his body like it’s the only important thing in this entire restaurant. Jealously boils inside me and I take three fast strides toward the pair when my groin pull raises it’s stupid, little hand. I stop short, breathing labored.

I need to shoulder my way between the pair. To do what? Make my wife feel as if I don’t trust her. Which I do. It’s the fucker physical therapist who I don’t.

After an excruciating period where the two hug like long-lost besties, she steps back. I should take comfort it was she who broke their contact. Plus the fact that if she was hugging PT boy, she doesn’t know about how the media’s running with this story.

Court approaches me. “She doesn’t know yet.”

“No.” I don’t relish being the person to share this awful not-secret.

Jenna’s business partner swallows hard. “I’ll do it.”

She takes one step, but I place my palm on her arm. “No. Don’t. It’ll be better coming from me. After all, but for me, none of this would be happening.”

“Beneath it all, our girl wouldn’t be as happy as she is. Remember that.”

“Our girl” hasn’t been happy with me—or anyone—for days. Not sure how finding out Lissa’s spewing more salacious lies about us and her miscarriage, plus the local press making a big deal out of Faith’s death, is going to cheer Jenna up.

I approach the pair. Without so much as a hello, I tug on Jenna’s arm. In her ear, I whisper, “I need to talk with you.” When she doesn’t move, I add, “It’s important.”