Trials of Love Pt. 03

She was adamant that the baby was mine; but if she was telling the truth about the dates, we'd only made love one evening that was in the right time window. I struggled to work out her cycle in my mind, but I drew a blank.

Her need to convince me that she and Nigel hadn't made love before she'd told me she was pregnant disturbed me; surely the first thing she should have told me was about the baby. Had there been other men as well as Nigel? I loved the woman, shit, I'd just proved that, but was it enough?

I grew cold at the realization that if the baby wasn't mine, there was no way I'd be able to bring it up. It would be a constant reminder, and I couldn't live with that.

Fuck, it was no good. I slipped out of bed, tucking the covers back around Kayla. I pulled on a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants. In the galley, I made a hot chocolate drink with a splash of Rum, then made my way to the rear deck. I settled down in a comfy reclining chair and let the night sounds embrace me.

I woke when the first glimmers of the dawn touched the eastern horizon and the town began to wake up. A couple of early morning joggers gave me a wave as they passed by. The occasional gusts of wind wafted the aroma of baking bread to my nose. I stretched, trying to ease the kinks.

My watch said it was almost six, which would make it midnight on the east coast of the United States. It was late, but not too late, I hoped, to call probably the only person who would know the truth.

My phone was charging in the salon. Walking back on deck, I called Laine.

After a moment, a sleepy voice said, "Yes." Then more urgently, "Peter is that you?"

"Yes."

"So I guess she's found you then. She called at the crack of dawn yesterday to say she had a hot tip that you were in the south of France."

In the background, I heard an indistinguishable second voice, then a muffled Laine saying, "Shush, go back to sleep, it's Kay's husband."

Then she said to me, "Hang on a moment, I need to move to the lounge."

There was a series of rustles and scratches then she said, "I guess this isn't a social call, what do you want, Peter?"

"I need to know the truth, Laine, not Kay's rose colored version. She's insistent that the baby is mine and she never slept with Nigel."

There was a sigh from Laine, "Pete, she's not only my boss, but she's also my best friend. You're putting me in an impossible position. If, and I'm not saying she did, but if she did tell me anything in confidence, I can't tell you, can I?"

"Laine, I always thought we were friends, as well. If it helps, remember you work for the agency and not Kay. I co-own it, so you work for me, as well. Also, if you don't say anything, I'll assume the worst, and it'll probably be the end of our marriage."

"You bastard," she hissed.

"I know I am, but I'm fighting for the truth about my marriage. I need to know what she was up to in those last few months. If it helps you make your mind up, it's the, 'not knowing' that's the real big issue here. I can forgive and live with it if I know the truth, and now, she's only telling me what she thinks I'll accept."

"But you'll divorce her if you don't find out the truth; is that what you are saying?"

"Possibly, probably, hell, I don't know; but I do know the uncertainty is chewing me up. We promised each outer that we'd always be honest with each other. It's the trust issue; she needs to tell me the truth."

There was a soft sigh and then a harsh, "No."

That was followed by a quieter, "I honestly don't know how much she did. All I know is she went out numerous times with Nigel in those last few months. I've no fucking idea if she slept with him. She seemed to have a good time, that all I know. She's the only person who can tell you what went on. I do know that she didn't understand what was going on with herself. She cried on my shoulder about how much she loved you after every date she had with him."

"Was Nigel the only one?"

"Fuck Pete, leave it alone."

"Was he?"

"Christ, there were a couple of others she went out to dinner with, but I don't think anything went on between them; they were just dinner dates. Is she still with you?"

"Yes, she's asleep now."

"That is where I'd like to be. I'm going to call her. If I must suffer, so can she. Peter, I'll tell her that she needs to tell you the truth, and then I'm done with it."

With that, she rang off. A few minutes later, I heard Kay's phone playing Laine's custom ring tone in the distance.

It was a good half an hour before Kayla appeared in the wheelhouse looking around for me. The sun had risen above the horizon, and the deck was bathed in a golden glow.

She'd obviously had another shower and was wearing a pair of old jean shorts and a t-shirt. The yellow 'baby on board' sign you see in car rear windows was emblazoned on the front. Her hair was still damp and pulled back in a ponytail. She came and sat down beside me, giving me a desperate look.

"Are you actually considering divorce?" her voice was scared.

"What did we promise Kay, that we'd always be honest with each other. I know you too well; I don't think you've outright lied to me, but I do believe that you've been very economical with the truth, I'm sure a lot more happened than you've admitted to."

Tears began to track down her cheeks and her shoulders shook as she sobbed and bowed her head.

I was aware that she was emotionally exhausted, I realized that I shouldn't have walked away, but at the time, I wasn't thinking rationally.

"Kay, look at me," I said. Her head rose. "I love you, but not knowing the truth is eating me up and destroying what love I have left for you. What did Laine tell you?"

"That if I don't tell you the truth, you will probably divorce me. Please, Pete, don't, I'm so sorry I lied; I promise I'll tell you everything. She said you are sure that I slept with Nigel and he wasn't the only one. You're not even sure that the baby's yours. It is; I promise you. You were the only person I made love to that month, and there's been nobody since. It can only be yours."

"That month?" I had noticed the way she'd phrased her statement.

"I went a bit further with him than I told you, but only with Nigel, the others were just dinner dates. At best, I'd give them a goodnight kiss when they dropped me off and then rush off to find George."

"Okay, so then, just how much further with him?"

Her voice was a soft whisper, "We never fucked..."

I grunted in disbelief, and she hurriedly continued. "Not in the biblical sense of fucking, that is. He gave me what I was craving, going down on me and I would give him blowjobs in return. We 69'd a couple of times, but he only ever came on me, not in me." Her hands gripped mine as she urged me to believe her.

"Did you love him?"

"No," she cried out. "If it hadn't been for my stupidity with the drugs, the best he would have got was a kiss goodnight. He's a nice person, and under other circumstances, I guess I could have fallen in love with him... but I already loved you, so he never had a chance."

I hissed at that, and she hurriedly continued, "I mean if I'd never met you, but because I was so needy he filled that need. George was good, and I used him a lot, but there were times I wanted someone real to hold and touch me and you weren't there."

"When was the last time?" Then a sickening thought hit me. "Or are you still seeing him?"

"No, no, no, I've only seen him once since, and that's when I apologized for misleading him and told him I could no longer work with him. The last time we were... well you know... together, had been over two weeks before that evening. By that time, the effect of the pills had almost worn off.

"That evening wasn't good for either of us; at least I didn't think so. I knew I'd been using him and my guilt at betraying you was overwhelming me. I was able to control my urges by then, but he was expecting me to act the same as usual. It was easier to give him a quick blowjob, then I faked a headache and got him to go. I tried never to be alone, socially, with him after that.

Nigel's proposal was his way of trying to make me commit to him. He thought I'd been suffering from cold feet, but I still loved him. He'd kept dropping hints about me leaving you and us getting married, but I had been ignoring them. He honestly thought I'd say yes. That's why there was such a mix up over your invite. He didn't want you around when he proposed."

"Fuck, I knew it."

"I was with the three of them when Gavin appeared to tell Stephen that you were outside and were spitting blood because you couldn't get in. I don't think Stephen wanted me to hear, but the music was loud and Gavin had to shout to be heard. I heard him say your name and I insisted he tell me what was going on. I'd been worried because I couldn't understand why you weren't there. When I heard what Gavin said, I told them to let you in, or I was leaving."

Ah, so the lackey's name was Gavin, nice to finally to know his name. It's funny how finding out little facts like that can be so satisfying.

Kayla carried on, "Nigel told Stephen to deal with it. It must be a mistake, and if he, Stephen, that is, would wait a few moments, a club official would go with him to sort it out. The next thing I knew Nigel was dragging me onto that stage and starting his speech. Stephen was looking confused, but I was able to tell him to go and get you. I said that if you weren't there in a couple of minutes, I was leaving. At the time, I had no idea what Nigel was about to do.

"No sooner had I seen you in the crowd, Nigel was making his crazy proposal and then you were gone. Nigel was on his knees holding out a ring, and the audience was applauding. Apparently, I slapped his face while screaming that he was delusional and that I was already married. I couldn't get through the crowd fast enough. By the time, I got to the front of the club, you'd gone. It took me a few minutes to get a taxi."

She gave a little sad smile, "He dropped the ring when I slapped him, and it rolled off the stage. Someone must have pocketed it because it hasn't been found. It was worth over $50,000."

"It's no more than he deserved," I said, with a wry smile.

"Not really, I'm the one at fault. I was the one who sent him all those confusing body messages. He really thought that we were falling in love. The truth was, I just saw him as an easy and safe way to relieve my sexual frustration."

She looked over at the boat moored behind us. "I was a bit like Cassie, I needed a walking George, a Tom who could give me some affection and make me orgasm when I need to get rid of the pressure that was constantly building up. You don't know how sorry I am that I didn't call you and tell you what I'd been doing, but I was so scared that you would hate and reject me when you found out what I'd been doing. The longer it went on, the harder it became to even think about telling you."

She still didn't get why I was so upset. "It's not finding out what you did, that hurts so much. It's the fact you felt that you needed to keep on lying to me about it. That's what hurts."

Her face fell, and she looked down at her hands and the rings on her finger. "I was so embarrassed that I couldn't control my emotions," she murmured.

"I didn't want you ever to find out how foolish and disrespectful I'd been. I knew what I was doing was wrong, but I just couldn't seem to stop myself. Laine could tell that something that wasn't right, but it took her a long time to convince me to go and see a doctor. He worked out what I'd done and why I was the way I was."

"Why didn't Laine call me?"

"Because I begged her not to and threatened her. I hoped that if I could get through those last few weeks without you ever finding I'd betrayed you, I'd be safe. I would have the next couple of years to earn your trust again. I was going to tell you, but I wanted to pick my moment. We'd have been a family, and you would have been much more likely to understand how stupid I'd been."

"That plan didn't work very well, did it?" I said with great sarcasm.

"No, and everything since then has been a case of damage control, with me petrified that the next person I'd see would be there to serve me with divorce papers. I haven't touched a keyboard since you left and I won't ever again if you don't forgive me for being the stupid idiot I was."

She moved off her chair and knelt at my feet, looking up at me. The tears were rolling down her face. "I'm so sorry I did what I did," she said. "Even in the worst moments, there was only one person I loved, and that was you. Most of the time I fantasized that it was you beside me, not him. Please, Pete, forgive me for being weak and foolish and betraying you."

She stopped then, physically and emotionally exhausted, her arms around my legs and her head bowed, waiting for her fate.

Forgiving what she'd done was the easy part. I'd known her long enough to know that she was now telling me the truth. I was sure that it was the drugs that pushed her into her recent behavior. The stumbling block, was her decision to try and hide her actions from me. I'd thought that we were soul mates, and we had never kept anything from each other. One phone call, that was all had been needed. What was worse was that she'd gone out of her way to hide it from me, the times when I was with her over that period. That, I wasn't sure I could forgive.

Then again, could I continue to live without her. What about the baby, there was no way I wanted to be a part time dad. What she had said about not playing registered, and I relaxed, I knew my answer.

I stood pulling her to her feet and sat her on my chair. "Wait here," I told her, and went below decks. Under the bed in the rear cabin was a long heavy box. It was something I'd ordered when I first bought the Nevermore. I'd hidden it away, since seeing it had become too hard.

Unpacking the box, I carried the contents up on deck and placed it on the low table, pulling it over so it was in front of her. Her eyes opened wide, and her hand went to her mouth, as she sobbed.

"Can I," she asked? She was waiting for my approval. If I didn't give it, I believed her earlier words that she'd never play again.

I nodded and plugged in the electronic keyboard to the mains on the boat. She switched it on and selected the correct options. She paused, her fingers poised above the ivory and black keys. She nodded in the direction of the other chair and waited until I was seated. Her eyes never left mine, and the first notes of Rachmaninoff's Piano Concerto No. 2 drifted across the water.

Did we make it? The short answer is yes... but. If that's all you want to know you can stop now.

If not...

Those first few weeks were rocky for both of us. Kayla understood that I was still having moments of doubt and suspicion and she was constantly trying to reassure me that while she'd been foolish, she still loved me.

She went even further, insisting on taking an in-vitro paternity test as soon as it was safe, to prove I was the father. The result confirmed I was, but while this reassured me at one level, it disturbed me at another. Her insistence on undergoing the test raised the second possibility, the specter that in her mind, there could have been the possibility I may not have been the father. That would suggest that she had gone further with Nigel than she had admitted.

We lived on the boat for those weeks, cruising further down the canal. Paul and Caroline, on the Wizard, kept us company. I was grateful for Caroline's presence as she diplomatically defused several situations between us that threatened to escalate into all-out war.

It came to a head after four weeks. Kay made a comment, and I jumped down her throat yet again. She burst into tears, and for once, I couldn't take her into my arms and tell her I loved her. Caroline hugged her and took her off to their boat. She stayed the night on the Wizard, while I pined on the Nevermore.

My heart grew leaden the next morning as I watched from the wheelhouse of the Nevermore while Kayla drove off in a taxi with Caroline and Paul. I knew I'd been pushing and pushing her to tell me everything that had happened. It had almost gotten to the point where I think I would have been happy if she had made something up, that fitted into the sick fantasy I was creating in my mind. It looked like Kayla had run out of patience with me. I tried calling her, but her phone was switched off.

Not knowing what to do, I moped about, finally concluding too late in the day that I wanted to keep on moving along the canal. The locks were closed for the night, trapping me where I was moored until next day.

I loved Kayla, but was that enough? My resentment was trying to do its best to tear us apart. I was convinced that she'd had a full-blown affair with Nigel. The fact that the baby was mine was just a lucky accident.

In the morning, I checked on the Wizard as I walked back from the local bakery. The boat was silent and locked up. Paul and Caroline hadn't returned last night, which had surprised me. I'd assumed that they'd been escorting Kayla to the airport and would be back to give me grief for my actions.

I called their mobile and got no answer, Kay's phone was still switched off. Christ, I'd really fucked up this time. At ten, after a quick visit to the local store for fresh provisions, I reluctantly started the engine. Casting off the mooring lines, I headed out of the village.

When I reached the first set of locks an hour's cruise down the canal, the light was green, and I slid past the open tall gates into the stone canyon. I was very grateful that the lock keeper was willing to tie off my bow line for me, as the worn rim of the lock was a good three yards above my head.

The lock gates closed behind me, and the water began flowing in. I concentrated on the wet stone wall beside me as the boat slowly rose. I jockeyed with the throttle and the bow thruster to keep her close to the wall as the water swirled around the boat.

When the water stilled and the gates in front of me opened, I eased the boat into the second lock. This one was even deeper, and I blindly threw the mooring line up and over the edge expecting the lock keeper to tie me off again.

Again, the water rushed in. I was concentrating on maintaining my position in the lock, so it took me a few moments to spot the small group of people standing on the rim of the lock as I rose. I felt a surge of happiness as I spotted Kayla beside Paul and Caroline. Then I froze as the fourth person turned to face me. That bastard Nigel Masters stood the other side of Kayla, and I groaned in disbelief and gut-wrenching despair.

There is a rule; you never board a boat without permission. Paul and Caroline knew this, so when Nigel tried to follow Kay as she stepped on board, Paul pulled him back.

She came and stood by me. "We need to talk," she said.

I looked at her in amazement, "Like hell we do," I replied. "I think the fact you brought him with you says everything I need to know."

"He's here to prove I still love you."

I was speechless, I just stared at her. Had she lost her mind? A call from the lock keeper brought my attention back to the here and now. He gestured at the gates open in front of the bow as he tossed the mooring line onto the roof of the cabin. I made Kay sit down on the bench seat at the rear of the wheelhouse and told her not to say anything.

I eased Nevermore through the exit of the lock and into the calm of the canal. I found a suitable place to moor up a hundred yards further up the canal. Paul had walked there to help me tie off the mooring lines. I switched off the engine, and Kayla's voice broke the silence.