A Song of Longing

"Ah!"

Linda's scream pierced the air.

Jessica's hand shot out, trying to catch her, but she only grazed Linda's sleeve, ripping off a button.

Anthony, rounding the corner at the sound, hurried over.

Linda was sprawled at the bottom of the stairs, and Jessica stood above, her hand still hanging in the air as if frozen in time.

Anthony shoved Jessica out of the way and bolted down to scoop up Linda.

"Linda, come on, open your eyes!"

Gripping Anthony's arm, Linda twisted her face in agony. "Anthony, don't be mad at Jess. She's just not Tracy's biggest fan. I tried to calm her down, and it set her off."

Her words trailed off as she slumped unconscious in his arms.

Anthony whipped around, his eyes burning holes into Jessica, who had been shoved to the ground.

"Jessica, you know I can't stand hypocrites."

He hoisted Linda in his arms, heading for the hospital. "You'd better hope Linda's okay, or forget about any old times."

As the car engine roared to life below, Jessica inspected her palm, gashed by the gravel.

Blood oozed out.

The orphanage director approached, hearing the commotion, and helped Jessica to her feet, words failing him.

Jessica pulled off her scarf and pressed it to her bleeding hand. "I've been volunteering here for years. I thought we were friends."

The lunch bell had the kids pouring out of the orphanage.

Watching Tracy skip and hop, the director mused, "Tracy's got a stroke of luck, bonding with Mr. Harris like they're family."

On her way home, Jessica finally dialed that number from her contacts, untouched for five long years.

It was answered after a single ring.

Simon Canfield's voice, smooth and alluring, drifted through the line. "Ms. Sullivan, to what do I owe the pleasure of your call?"

Ignoring the bite in his tone, Jessica cut to the chase. "Simon, does our engagement still stand?"

Simon's laughter crackled through the phone. "You must be kidding, Ms. Sullivan. You're a married woman now. If you're looking for a boy toy, you've dialed the wrong number."

Unruffled, Jessica asked again, "Just tell me, is our engagement still on?"

Simon's voice turned intimate, pressing against the receiver. "Ms. Sullivan, are you proposing an affair?"

At her limit, Jessica snapped, "Let's pretend this call never happened."

She ended the call and pulled over to the side of the road.

A message from Linda popped up on her phone.

[Jessica, how does it feel to play house for five years?]

[Guess what Anthony is up to now?]

A GIF popped up on the screen.

There was Anthony, dressed to the nines, crouched down tying Linda's shoelaces. The cufflinks at his wrists were the ones Jessica had chosen for him.

Her palm, which had healed, bled anew as she clenched her phone.

The ringtone pierced the silence. It was Simon again.

"Ms. Sullivan, ever the firecracker. If you'd been a bit more observant, you might've noticed the marriage certificate was a fake from the start."

Simon was uncannily resourceful; he had uncovered in minutes what had eluded her for years.

Jessica's fingers clenched around her phone. "Mr. Canfield, I didn't come here for your snide remarks. I just want to ask..."

Simon's voice was a low rumble, cutting her off, "It's a done deal, always."

Jessica was lost. "What does that mean?"

Simon's face took on a rare solemnity. "It means our engagement stands. Whenever you're ready, I'm here to be your husband, Jessica."

She was silent for a long moment before responding.

"I've got things to wrap up in Capital City. Let's meet next Monday outside the Hudson City County Clerk's Office."

Simon's voice lightened as he teased, "Whoever chickens out is a scaredy-cat."

"Immature," retorted Jessica before ending the call.