Trials of Love Pt. 01

She twitched in her sleep, I caressed her back, and she settled down again. Her head nestled into the curve of my neck, her breathing slow and regular with a little sigh at the end of each one.

I felt myself drifting off, the last conscious thought was 'fuck her publicist; if Kay didn't say anything tomorrow night, I would, and damn the consequences'.

I woke up when the first light of the new day tinged the windows. I lay there with a half-asleep Kayla curled up against me. Her fingers had found my morning wood and she was slowly stroking me under the covers. Without saying a word, she swung her hips over mine and with her hand, began rubbing the head of my cock up and down and around the wet opening of her vagina.

Slowly, she eased herself down my throbbing cock. She bent forward and kissed me as she found her rhythm. She was soaking wet, and I slid into the silky glove of her pussy. There was no hurried pace to our lovemaking. It was slow, purposeful and deep. She lay on my chest with her hard nipples rubbing against me and milked her wet sex up and down. My finger found her hard nub, and I slowly rolled my fingertip, my fingers wet from the juices dripping from her. She came hard before I did and that triggered my own release. She collapsed on me, her lips seeking mine. We kissed, a long drawn out sensual kiss.

I closed my eyes briefly and opened them to the sound of the shower and a phone from Kay's side of the bed. I groped for the phone thinking that it was her alarm. Peering bleary-eyed at the screen, I realized two things that awakened me. One, it was a call, not her alarm, and two, it wasn't her phone. It could be hers, but it wasn't the phone I'd bought for her.

The sound of a short piano riff continued to play. She only uses different clips of herself playing as ringtones for close friends, all of whom I knew. Mine was a snip of the piece of the Rachmaninoff she first played for me at Covent Garden. This one was not a ring tone I associated with any of our friends or relatives. There was no photo, and the caller's identity was just an N, nothing else.

I accepted the call; it was a personal ringtone, so it should be someone I knew. I put the phone to my ear and opened my mouth to speak.

Before I could say anything, a husky male voice asked, "Kayla love, where did you disappear to last night after the show? You didn't answer my calls." This was definitely not a voice I knew. I heard the shower stop and deciding that this probably wasn't the best time to start asking questions of a stranger, I disconnected the call.

Kay appeared, wrapped in a towel and saw me with her phone. She gave me a puzzled look.

"I think I just disconnected a call to you," I said. "I figured it was your alarm and was trying to switch it off."

In the dark of the bar last night I hadn't realized that it wasn't the phone I'd given her last year. After turning it over in my hand, I asked her, "Is this a new phone, by the way?"

"Can I have it please, and yes it's new. It a special edition of the latest Samsung, and the case is platinum. The record company gave it to me last week to celibate the fact my last album went gold."

"So the iPhone I gave you isn't good enough for you anymore?" I think I sounded a bit petulant, but can you blame me. Whoever N was, he sounded a bit more than a friend.

"Don't be daft, there was a representative from the record company at the concert last night, and Laine thought it would be politically correct if I showed them I was using it."

She looked at the call log. "That was her. I better call her back and explain that it was my klutz of a husband who cut her off. You need a shower, I'm going to order breakfast, then call her, so don't be too long."

Without waiting to see if I agreed, she walked out to the sitting room. As I lay there trying to get my head around the fact she'd just told me a blatant lie, I heard her voice on the phone ordering room service.

"I don't hear the shower," she called, "I'm not going to eat with a smelly husband, so hurry up. Breakfast will be here in ten minutes."

I showered, shaved and was dressed in time to answer the door to the waiter who pushed a trolley with our breakfast on it into the room.

Kay had slipped on a robe and was sitting at the table. She had two phones in front of her and was swapping the SIM card over from her new phone back to her old iPhone.

"I prefer the phone you bought me," she said in explanation of her actions. "I shouldn't have let Laine convince me to use the other one. Do you want it; it's supposed to have all the latest bells and whistles?"

I shook my head, "Can't have the recording company upset with you; you better keep it."

"Can you put it in the room safe in that case? It's supposed to be worth a lot."

"How much?" She named a figure, and I whistled.

"Christ, they must love you. Did you use the usual code for the safe?"

She nodded, but she wasn't smiling as I walked into the bedroom and opened the safe in the wardrobe. Before I put the phone away, my curiosity got the better of me and I switched it on. She hadn't changed the passcode, so I had no problem accessing the phone. She'd deleted the call log, and there was no D in her contacts.

What was happening? I knew that a N had called her only minutes ago. I really didn't want to think the worst, but there were the rumors of a new lover that I'd been dismissing as paparazzi gossip. Was there truth to it? Shit, had she found a new lover? Was last night her way of saying goodbye?

Kay calling out, "Food's getting cold," interrupted my black thoughts. I switched off the phone and placed it in the safe.

I picked at the food, my appetite lost to the dark thoughts racing across my brain. Kay's wasn't much better, and most of the food was left on our plates by the time we admitted defeat. We called room service to take the mess away.

She'd been fiddling with her phone and finally handed it to me with a grunt of annoyance. "Can you look at it?" she asked. "I seemed to have lost all my contacts. They are supposed to be on the SIM card, but I can't find them."

"Did you save them to the card?"

"One of Stephens assistants did it for me. You know what I'm like with the damn thing."

I did, and it didn't take me long to restore all the missing contacts and a couple of the apps she'd seemed to have deleted. N wasn't in these contacts either.

"Thank you," she said. She came and sat on my lap. "The other phone might be prettier, but I much prefer the one you got me." She kissed me and curled up, wrapping her arms around me.

The disturbing thoughts that had been bouncing around in my mind all night and had peaked with this last incident, came to the fore.

I loved this woman; she had been the most important thing in my life for the past ten years, but I needed to know if she loved me just as much as I thought she did. We were supposed to be embarking on a new public phase in our marriage. We were going to have a family. Now there was the question, who was this N character. Was I losing her to him, whoever he was? My resolve stiffened, and I pulled her around so I could see her face.

"Kay we need to talk about what's going on. Something has changed, and I don't know what it is."

She shook her head, "Nothing's changed. I still love you, we are still going to take two years off and start a family."

"But you still don't want to tell anyone about us."

"It's just not the right time, that's all." She tried to stand up.

I tightened my grip on her. "No damn it, you need to listen, I've come to a decision," I said. "We are going to make our announcement tonight. I don't care what your publicist says. It will be this evening! I won't hide in the wings anymore."

She stiffened, "Please, Pete, talk to my publicist please, she can explain why we should wait. We'll make a lot of money from selling the story to a magazine."

"Christ, Kay, we don't need the money, or have you already sold the story without asking me?"

She gave me a sheepish smile, "Sort of," she said, then she saw my face and hurriedly continued. "I haven't signed anything yet, we just spoke to the magazine."

I stood up and dumped her unceremoniously on the carpet as she gasped in surprise. She got to her feet and sat on the sofa, looking rather shocked. I think that was the first time I'd ever rejected her since we'd first met.

"Kay why did we get married if you don't want people to know?"

She went to say something, but I stopped her. "I know I agreed that you had a valid reason, but that was then, not now... unless there is another reason, I don't know about. Is there someone else, is that it?"

I'd sat back down as I spoke, and she came and knelt at my side. "I love you more now than I've ever have. There is only you. Our families and all our closest friends know we are in a relationship, we've never hidden it from them. It's only the paparazzi and the public that don't know, and I'd like to keep it that way for a few more days. Please, Pete, don't make a scene at tonight's reception."

"Are we going to tell them we are married?"

"Not tonight, please, Pete."

"Then I don't see any point in me being there. This has gone on long enough. I want to go to one of these damn annoying receptions with my wife, not stare at her across the room, knowing that she won't acknowledge me."

Her face was white, and she was shaking as I vented my anger and frustration. For the briefest of moments, I wanted to slap some sense into her. That thought was enough to make me lurch to my feet. Pausing only to grab my phone, wallet and iPad, throwing them into a backpack, I walked out of hotel suite. As I left the room, I heard her wail my name.

I turned, momentarily, and said, "Call me if you change your mind."

I left the hotel not one hundred percent convinced I'd done the right thing, but as my old gran used to say, "you can't make an omelet without breaking the eggs."

I couldn't understand why Kay had cold feet over the announcement. She'd still been in favor of the grand reveal the last time we had been together, and nothing she'd said since then had suggested she was changing her mind. In all the conversations, we'd had, she'd been looking forward to the end of her tour, the new house and the thought of having a baby. What had changed?

With all of these thoughts, I wasn't aware of where I was going. My phone was buzzing and chirping in my pocket, but I ignored it. I wasn't ready to talk to her yet.

Early in the afternoon, I found myself at a junction and across the road was one of those little parks that you find in the oddest places in this city.

The day was sunny, and I was grateful to take refuge from the hot sun on a bench in the shade of an old tree. I bought a bottle of cold water and sipped it, enjoying the cooling sensation as the cold liquid slid down my parched throat. My phone buzzed again, and I decided I was settled enough to deal with it. There were some missed calls, most were from Kay, two from Stephen and one from Julia. There were also several texts, again, the majority were from Kay.

As I started to read the texts, the phone buzzed. The caller ID showed that it was Julia.

"Pete, what the hell is going on? I've had Kay in tears on the phone. She said you've walked out on her. For Christ sake, call her."

"Did she explain why I walked out?"

"It was hard to understand her, but something about an announcement you wanted her to make."

I sighed, "She agreed that we would tell the press at tonight's reception that we've been married for the past eight years; now she doesn't want to do it. I've just had enough, either we are married, or we aren't."

"Don't be daft, the girl loves you. You are all she talks about when we speak."

"Not so sure anymore, I think she's got a lover."

There was a long silence from the other end, then she asked. "What have you heard?"

"No, the question is what have you heard, Julia, is there some truth to the rumors I'm hearing? I better not find out that you've been hiding anything from me? She received a call from a man this morning, someone she knows well enough to give him a custom ringtone."

"Pete, honestly I've not heard anything, just the same rumors you have, I'm sure. The press is always speculating; it doesn't mean anything. I spoke to her a couple of days ago and she said nothing. I don't know who the call was from."

"It came up as a N on her phone. When I checked later, she'd deleted the call log, and there was no N in her contacts. She's hiding something."

"Christ, don't do anything stupid; there's got to be an innocent explanation. She loves you too much to do anything silly."

The call waiting chime sounded, and it was Stephen. I said goodbye to Julia, who reminded me that she and Stephanie would see me at tonight's reception.

As soon as I connected to Stephen's call I had to move the phone from my ear, he was shouting so much.

"What the fuck's going on? Kayla wants to cancel tonight's concert. She says you've left her."

"I'm not leaving her, we've just had a bit of a disagreement, and I needed to get away from her to clear my head."

He calmed down a bit and his voice dropped to a reasonable level. "What is the problem? Can I do anything?"

"Only if you can make her understand that I'm not going to go to another one of these bloody receptions unless we go as a couple, otherwise, probably not!"

"Ah, that's what your problem is... I thought you..." He tailed off sounding relieved at that.

'You thought what?' I wondered.

" I thought that you were going as a couple tonight, that you were telling the press at the reception; she hasn't got cold feet again?"

"That's what I thought, too, but apparently not anymore. She's decided we have to wait until she can arrange the perfect magazine interview. No more, Stephen, I've had enough."

"Peter, you need to talk to her. She adamant there won't be a show tonight unless you are in your seat."

For a long moment, I said nothing; all Stephen was worried about was the damn concert. I wasn't going to spoil the enjoyment of the rest of the audience, but I was pissed off that she was trying to manipulate me this way.

"Stephen, you can tell her that I'll be at the concert, but unless I hear from her beforehand that she's changed her mind and is willing to do what we agreed to, I won't be at the reception. Oh, and you could ask her who N is?"

I didn't wait for a reply; I just disconnected the call as I heard his voice again. I started to skim through the texts that Kay had sent me.

They all said variations of the same thing. She loved me, and only me. Please talk to her and her publicist so they can explain why we should hold back on our announcement. The last few wanted to know if I'd be at the concert and the reception.

I texted back. I will be there to watch you. The receptions up to you, we go as a couple, or I won't be there.

I thought about asking who N was, but in the end, I didn't, it was something we needed to discuss face to face. I switched off the phone and carried on walking.

I didn't return to the hotel until much later in the afternoon, and Kay had already left to go to the concert hall. There was a note at the desk for me from Stephen.

"I've taken her to the hall. She only agreed to go after she got your text. She won't start playing until she sees you with her own eyes."

My tuxedo was laid out on the bed in Kay's suite. She'd found my ticket and had marked it with a lipstick kiss. It was tucked in my breast pocket. As I pulled it out, a pair of tiny panties came with it. I smelled them, and the delicious aroma of Kay's pussy tickled the back of my nose.

I showered, shaved and got dressed. In the pocket of the trousers, I found a note from her declaring her love and a promise that we would talk after the show and go to the reception together. I was to text her if I agreed. There was a PS. 'I told Stephen, I won't play if you are not there'.

I didn't understand her sometimes. She knew that there was no way I wouldn't be there to watch her. The whole 'delay the announcement' issue had been worrying me, but now the most important concern I had was whether she was having an affair? Who was this N character? She had changed over the past couple of months. She'd been far more aggressive with her lovemaking and very needy, almost as though she was compensating.

I'd see what happened after the show. The reception would be backstage as had been all the other last night receptions.

The hotel receptionist called the room at six-thirty to say that my limousine was waiting. Apparently, Stephen was taking no chances that I'd bail on him. Traffic was heavy, and it took us over an hour to reach the concert hall. I could have walked it in half the time. In fact, I offered to get out and walk at one point.

"More than my job's worth," the driver told me. "I've got strict instructions to deliver you to the concert hall, and that what I'm going to do!"

The show was due to start at eight. We pulled up at the bottom of the flight of broad steps that led up to the entrance with only ten minutes to spare. As I passed through the lobby and showed my ticket, I saw one of Stephen's lackeys on his phone. He gave me a relieved smile before rushing off.

I began to think that Kay had been serious about her threat to cancel the performance if I wasn't there.

I paused in the lobby and sent her a message: I'm here, we will talk after the show. See you backstage afterwards.

She replied seconds later with a row of kisses and happy faces.

My seat was in the first row, bang in the center. Sitting next to me was the wife of the mayor, and I introduced myself to her and her husband. She burbled on about how much she loved Kay's playing. I grinned as I saw the mayor roll his eyes at her enthusiasm. Then she said something that got my attention.

"I'm going to get the chance to meet her after the show. We've been invited to the reception the recording company is holding for her after the show. It's a private, all ticket affair; the tickets are like gold dust."

What the fuck? Since when was the record company hosting the post-show reception? It was supposed to be our management company, and if it was all ticket, where was mine?

"Where's the reception being held?" I asked her.

She named an exclusive downtown nightclub. "If you haven't got a ticket you won't get in," she added.

This couldn't be right; maybe it was a second reception that we were supposed to drop into later. I was about to text Stephen, but the last of the Orchestra settled, and the house lights dimmed. There was a long hush before a single spotlight picked on the conductor as he walked to his position. A second one picked up the empty piano stool. For the briefest of moments, the spotlight refocused and shone on my seat before settling back on the piano at center stage.

Kayla walked from the stage wing to the piano to a thunderous round of applause. She paused for a moment, smiling and giving me a brief nod and a blown kiss, before settling herself down in front of the black piano.

The first notes rang out, and I lost myself to the beauty of the music. She played for a full two hours without a break, not missing a single note. I've heard her play countless times and without a doubt, this was her most inspirational performance.

The last note died away, and for a moment, the hall was silent. Then the applause started. It grew and grew in volume until the room shook. For a full five minutes, the sound was almost deafening as Kay stood in the light of a single spotlight. Finally, Stephen and a gentleman, the same one as last night, moved to her side and the applause slowly died away. The guy I didn't recognize gave her an enormous bunch of red roses and a kiss, and she gave him a big smile, then she started, and looked in my direction. Stephen passed her a bottle of water, and she drank greedily, swallowing half the contents in one go. Both Stephen and the other man were trying to talk to her, but she shrugged them off, her eyes locked on mine.