Trials of Love Pt. 02

She handed me the iPad, open to Kayla's official fan web page. I think I'd only glanced at it a couple of times before. The site was run by Stephen's agency, and I had a similar fan page for each of my alter egos.

In the center of the page was a reproduced letter. There was a short paragraph above it written by the woman who looked after the website.

Kayla Ortiz has announced that she's been in a long-term relationship, that, she's been married to the author Peter Ryan for the past eight years. She has asked that we print the letter she has written to her husband. There is a second letter addressed to her fans. We have done as she requested and here they both are in all their entirety. Lastly, I'd like to congratulate her on behalf of all her loyal fans. Please read the letters. She's asking for your help. At her request, we have disabled the comment feature.

Below, in a separate box, were the two letters, both were dated two days ago.

The first was to me

"Peter, my love.

I've treated you in the worst possible way. For the last eight years, I've hidden the fact that I've been married to you. I made you hide in the background and denied you in public because of my own irrational fears. You loved me so much that you were willing to accept my selfish behavior.

You are the only person who has shared my life, my body and my love for the past 10 years. You are the most wonderful and loyal man, and I love you so much that it physically hurts not to have you by my side.

Four months ago, you walked away from me because of my own foolish actions. I met an opportunistic man who briefly made me doubt my love for you. You couldn't be with me for those last months of my world tour, and this man took advantage of that. He worked his way close to me. I thought he was a business colleague and a friend, and foolishly, I didn't tell him about you. You were such a special part of my life, Peter, that I selfishly didn't want to share you.

My husband, my love, I promise you that nothing happened. His proposal was as big a surprise to me as it must have been to you. I can't imagine what it must have felt to watch him declare his love for me in such a public way after I'd refused to publicly acknowledge our love. I promise you that I wasn't smiling at his proposal; I was smiling because I'd just seen you enter the room.

You disappeared, and nobody knows where you are. I know you flew to Switzerland, but we can't find out where you went from there. I don't know of any other way to contact you, so I'm hoping that you still care enough about me to view this site, and read this letter.

Your loving wife,

Kayla Ortiz-Ryan"

Below was a letter to her fans.

"To my loyal fans

I'm married. I'm sorry that I felt it important to keep it secret, but at the time I felt justified with my decision., a decision I've recently realized was a big mistake.

Who is my husband? His name is Peter Ryan. I've been in a relationship with him these past 10 years and married for the last eight. He is the most wonderful and loyal man. The rumors of boyfriends, lovers and affairs were just that, rumors; he was my rock.

I did a very foolish thing, I betrayed my husband. I met an opportunistic man who made me doubt my love for my husband. Four months ago, Peter left me and I have no idea where he is. I need to find him to apologize and beg him to come home.

This latest tour was to be my last for several years as we planned to settle down and start a family. Now I'm on my own, and I want my husband back.

To you my fans, please, if you see or hear anything about Peter, I beg you to contact me through the email link on the web page. I have posted a photograph of Peter below. I need to find him and correct my mistake and his misconceptions.

Gratefully,

Kayla Ortiz-Ryan"

Below this letter was a photograph of me, cropped from a photo taken at a family get-together earlier this year.

There was a long silence as I stared at the screen. Did I want to believe her that nothing had happened? Something had to have occurred. You don't just make a public proposal without an assumption that you would get a yes in reply.

As I put the iPad down, Caroline said, "If you hadn't told me who you are I'd never have recognized you from the photo. That full beard and your longer hair make such a difference to your appearance."

"Hiding wasn't the reason I grew them out."

"I guessed that, the beard suits you, though."

"So did you?" I asked pointedly.

They both looked at me sheepishly. "I emailed her while I was at the airport," Caroline admitted. "I must have sounded convincing, as I got a reply within minutes asking me for a contact number. A woman called me and asked a lot of questions and where you were. She was very surprised that you were living on a boat."

"Yeah, I never told Kayla that I was buying the Nevermore. I suppose I better see if I can find my phone. I guess she'll be trying to call me."

"Haven't you been checking your messages," Cassie exclaimed.

"Not since the night I heard Nigel propose to her. I switched it off when I got on the plane and I haven't switched it back on since. I threw it in a drawer when I got on board, and it's been there ever since."

Cassie looked at me in shock, she couldn't contemplate a life without a phone permanently attached to her hand. I retrieved my phone and switched it on, amazingly, there was still a half charge after all these months.

Once the phone had connected to a carrier and found a signal, it was constantly pinging and chiming for the next five minutes.

I groaned as I looked at the list of missed calls and texts. It looked like I'd pissed off a lot of people with my disappearing act and probably lost a few friends as well.

I left Kay's texts to last, I'm not sure why. I suppose I didn't want to read anything that would make me doubt her sincerity.

Stephen was really pissed off with me. In his first messages, he was insistent that he knew nothing about what had gone on between Kay and Nigel. Considering what I'd seen, I wasn't convinced of his innocence. When he discovered that I'd sold my share of the agency, his texts became ballistic. Then I found one from him that said that he and Kayla had convinced my buyers to sell my share back to me. 'You owe us a lot of money', was the gist of his last text.

What I did note was that while he adamantly denied knowing anything about a relationship between Kay and Nigel, at no time did he confirm Kay's claim that she and Nigel didn't have a relationship. Again, I couldn't help thinking, regardless of Kay claim about her innocence, a person just doesn't propose marriage unless they expect a positive answer. Something must have happened between them.

I looked at Caroline and Cassie, then switching it off again, I put the phone into my pocket. "That's enough for tonight," I said in a jaunty tone. "Didn't you offer to feed me this evening Caroline?"

"Yes... but don't you want to talk to your wife first?"

I shook my head, "No, not now, there are just too many inconsistencies in the stories. I can only conclude she was having an affair, and I just don't want to deal with the consequences of that tonight. Hey, Caroline, I'm hungry, and I need time to think about my next move. Cassie, I don't know Tom, so I'd be very grateful if you don't discuss my situation with him."

The two women gave each other a look, then agreed. Caroline said, "Come on then, we've got steaks to grill and wine to drink, and we need to save Paul from the walking... err Tom."

Cassie gave her a funny look and then they headed back to their boat. I had a quick wash and changed into clean jeans and a t-shirt. I almost left my phone to charge, but at the last moment put it in my pocket.

I almost felt sorry for Tom when I met him; the aroma of 'big brother does not think you are worthy of dating his little sister' was heavy in the air. Tom was a pleasant enough man in his mid-thirties. What he lacked in brains he sure made up for in looks, damn him!

He was British, much to my surprise. I'd always assumed that all surfers were American or Australian. I was partially correct, he had grown up surfing the waves of Cornwall, before moving to Australia to chase the bigger ones. It was there that he'd met Cassie the previous year.

Tom and Paul were on deck trying to have a conversation as Paul was preparing the barbeque. I was treated as Paul's savior. He waved me aboard and I greeted both of them.

"The women are down below, they'll be up in a moment," he said. "What do you want to drink?"

"Beer would be nice," I replied, as I settled down on one of the chairs on the aft deck.

Paul called out, "Caro honey. Peter's here, and can you bring him up a cold beer."

There was an acknowledgement, and a couple of minutes later Caroline and Cassie came on deck, carrying the meat for the grill and a handful of beer bottles. After placing them on the table, I was greeted with a hug and a kiss from both of them.

Cassie gave me a long expectant look. "So, has she called; have you called her?"

"No and no, and let's leave it please," I said. "You know what I think, and I need to be in a right frame of mind before I talk to her."

Cassie wanted to say something else, but Caroline hushed her. There was an uncomfortable silence for a moment. Tom was looking from Cassie to me, then to Caroline and Paul. It was evident that he desperately wanted to know what was going on, but we ignored him.

Paul, trying to change the subject to a safer one, broached a subject we hadn't gotten into the evening before. He asked me what I did, because as he said, "You're too damn young to be retired!"

"I'm an author," I admitted. "Not a very good one but I sell enough books to make ends meet."

"That's not true," a voice from the dockside behind me declared. "He's a brilliant writer."

I knew that voice, it sent shivers down my spine. A shot of adrenaline pulsed through my body as I went on alert. I shot Caroline a sharp look.

"You couldn't leave it alone, could you?" I muttered.

"You need to talk," she replied without any hint of embarrassment.

"Maybe, but I needed to do to in a time and a place of my choosing. I'm not ready to deal with this. This isn't the time or the place. You had no right to interfere Caroline."

I slowly turned to confirm my worst fear, Kayla was standing on the dockside. She looked somewhat forlorn. She was wearing a loose blue cotton dress, an old favorite of mine. For a moment, I thought she'd put a bit of weight on, then dismissed it. On her hand, our rings glinted. Beside her, there was a black roll-on flight bag. On the road behind her, a taxi was pulling away.

"Am I welcome?" she asked in a voice laced with uncertainty.

After a moment while I just stared at her. Caroline said. "Of course, you are."

At the same time, I said, "No."

Caroline shot me a disappointed look, "Paul, take Kayla's bag and put it on Peter's boat. You, young lady, come here and let's get you freshened up after your trip."

"To hell with that, if you want her to stay, she can stay with you! You and I need to talk." I took Caroline by the arm and led her over to the Nevermore. We went below decks

Caroline rounded on me as soon we descended the steps. "What the matter with you; can't you see she's hurting."

I was beginning to understand that Caroline was the human equivalent of a Force of Nature. Nothing was going to stand in the way of her attempt to get us back together.

"She's hurting!" I snarled. "She's the one who had a fucking lover, not me. Caroline, you're a nice woman but this is too much."

"Peter, I'm sorry but you should have heard the longing in your voice when you talked about her last night. You think you hate her, but you don't. You two need to talk, even if it's just so you can get some resolution."

I was about to shout at her again, then I stopped. Caroline was right, as much as I didn't want to see Kayla at this time. I also needed to understand what the fuck had happened to my life. I desperately wanted to know why Kay had done what she had. She was also right about my feelings for Kay, I still loved the woman; but was that enough to get us through this?

I bowed to the inevitable and led Caroline back towards Wizard. As I stepped onboard I called to Paul, "You better put her bag in my guest cabin."

He grinned back at me and waved in acknowledgement. There was a flurry of activity as the women took Kayla below deck, leaving me alone with a bemused Tom, not that it took a lot to bemuse him, I'd quickly discovered.

"So, man, you know this woman?" he asked. Before I could answer, he continued, "Who's the writer, you or her?"

My tolerance wasn't at its best and it had been obvious that he wasn't the brightest soul on the block. I didn't need any of his airhead comments. He'd been sitting there when I'd said I was an author. He better know how to use that dick of his, because he didn't have much else going for him.

"I'm the writer," I explained. "She's Kayla Ortiz. She's a world-famous concert pianist, and I suppose, she's still my wife."

"You're lucky mate; so what does she play?"

I looked at him in exasperation; I'd just told him. "She's a classical musician, a pianist."

"Yeah cool, I understand, but what does she play. Is it like a guitar?"

Fuck me, how dumb is this dickhead? I was now in complete agreement with Paul. The world would be a far, far better place if he were removed from the gene pool. Please, God, I hope he's firing blanks.

"No, she's a pianist, that means she plays the piano," I said.

I was saved from more of Tom's inquisition by Paul, as he clambered aboard.

"I've put the bag in your cabin, I hope that okay."

I sighed, I'll deal with it later.

"We've got steak and prawns for the barbie, is that going to be okay for her?"

"Should be, unless something drastic has changed in the past few months."

Paul gave me an odd look, then he started putting the steaks on the grill. The women reappeared. Caroline and Cassie had broad grins, and Kay had a small apologetic smile.

"You kept the boat a big secret, didn't you?" she said in a careful tone.

"Yes, well that was the point, it was supposed to be a hidey hole for us in case the press got too intrusive after the announcement. Only the broker and I knew about the purchase."

"I guessed that. The private detectives I hired haven't been able to find you."

"Again, that was the plan," I pointed out with a trace of sarcasm.

I was sitting on a padded chest, and she came and sat down beside me. "I'm not going to bore you with countless protestations of love," she said as she took my hand. "Because I know you know that I do, and nothing has changed. Well one thing, and that's your fault."

I stared at her; did she really think that it would be so easy? She was the same Kay I'd loved all these years, but I wasn't sure I could dare love her anymore. I already felt pain at her apparent infidelity with Nigel, and now it was my fault.

"So it's my fault that some dickhead decided that you and he were friendly enough that it was alright to propose to you?"

"No, that was all mine. I was so stupid, I really didn't know how serious Nigel was becoming. I thought he was just a good friend."

I shook my head, "That makes no sense at all. Do me the common courtesy not to insult my intelligence. It didn't seem like he was at all confused. He was convinced that you were in love with him. He chose the words of his proposal carefully, and it was obvious that he expected you to say yes. Why would he think that Kay?"

She looked upset then gave me a sad smile. "I may have led him on a bit."

"A bit!" I said. "It looked like a damn sight more than a bit to me."

"I suppose that's true, a bit is somewhat of an understatement. I was lonely and missing you, and I wasn't in complete control. He took me out to dinner a few times, and I let him kiss me, but I honestly thought he knew I was married and I only thought of him as a friend."

"Did you actually tell him you were married?"

She shook her head, "Not in so many words, but I was sure he knew."

The other four were hanging on our words. I suspected that we'd become their entertainment for the evening. A real-life soap opera, performed just for them. Well, if the food tasted as good as it smelled, maybe they'd earned it.

Paul gave us our plates, and we both ate as we talked.

I gave Kay the option, and asked, "Do you want to discuss it here or later, in private?"

She gave me an ironic grin back and whispered in my ear, "And spoil their entertainment! There's nothing I need to say that I want to hide and I know I'm going to embarrass myself."

I loved how we both thought the same way. In fact, I knew I loved her more than ever, which made my need to understand what had happened and why Nigel had felt she would accept his offer of marriage so critical. The old saying 'there's no smoke without fire', kept coming to mind.

"There are a few things I need answers to," I said, and I held up a finger for each one as I asked it. "One, did you sleep with him? Two, why did you change; we've been apart so many times before and we've never strayed, so why now, was it something I did?" I carried on like this for several more salient points that had been festering in my mind these past few months.

She looked so vulnerable as she listened to me. She seemed to shrink into herself. I felt guilty, so I put an arm around her, at which she gave me a grateful smile.

"First things first," she said. "No, I never slept with him, nor with anyone else since we first met. I did let his advances go a lot further than I should have. Peter, I'm truly sorry, I know that this is not what you want to hear, but I enjoyed it when he caressed me."

She moved closer, seeking reassurance from her physical contact with me.

"It was nothing that you did. I was so nervous those last few months of the tour. We'd made the decision that we were going to start a family, and I'll be honest, the thought of being pregnant scared me, and it still does. I wasn't feeling myself, it was as though everything was happening to someone else."

I shook me head in disbelief that she'd try that excuse. She paused, unsure if she should continue. I indicated that she should.

She said, "Stephen and the recording company were pushing me to carry on touring and recording, despite us telling them we were going to take a two-year break. Nigel is their VP for the classical records division. He was sent by their managing director to try and convince me to change my mind."

I interrupted, "And this is the same son of a bitch who thinks it's okay to try and steal another man's wife. Was that why his phone contact just his initial instead of a name?" I asked in a manner that made it sound like I already knew.

"I didn't do it; it was under his name on my old phone. I was busy when he gave me the new phone. He got one of Stephens assistants to transfer the SIM card and the data for me. He must have changed it in the contacts list when he got his assistant to transfer the data from my old phone to the one they gave me."

"And the ring tone?"

"That was me; he was calling me quite a lot so I just gave him one."

"So why did you delete his contact? I didn't see it when I looked."

"I didn't really, I just changed his contact information back to his full name. It was under his surname, Masters, Nigel Masters. I called him back while you were in the shower. When he told me what he'd said, I realized how his conversation would have sounded to you. Yes, I know you answered it. Why didn't you tell me, I would have explained? The only reason l swapped the phones back was because I could see that you were upset that I wasn't using the phone you'd bought me for Christmas."