Page 10 of Mister Musician

Saint held her close and allowed the hardness of his body to soften against hers. “I’m trying, Whit.”

“I don’t need you to try.” Whitney released him to look into his eyes. Cupping his cheek, she told him, “I need you to do.”

All Saint could do was nod before giving her one last goodbye kiss and heading out. His relationship with Whitney was over. In the past, he would have lost hope and decided to stay with Tristan because there was no one else he wanted. But now, losing Whitney would be the driving force behind Saint freeing himself of Tristan once and for all.

ChapterEight

Tristan

Maybe it was petty,but Tristan didn’t care. When she saw Whitney sitting front row at the Grizzlies game, she was convinced Saint had earned her forgiveness. And when Saint shot her a wink and she smiled, there was no doubt in Tristan’s mind that they were back together. For a while, Tristan subliminally bashed Whitney for forgiving Saint so easily. She stayed with a man that gave her an STD? How desperate. The moment those words resonated in her mind and heart, Tristan realized how hypocritical she was.

She’d given Saint the STD after years of doing whatever she possibly could to keep him at her side. If anyone was desperate… it was Tristan. Still, that didn’t stop Tristan from wanting to make it publicly clear that no matter who Saint entertained, he was still her husband. Tristan set up several interviews for them to do, including one on the podcastBlack Power Couples.

It didn’t matter how much she knew Saint hated playing the role of doting husband, he’d do it for the sake of his career. As he swerved into the parking lot in one of his everyday cars, Tristan chuckled. Even with the way he quickly and carelessly slid into a parking space, she could tell Saint was in a mood. He hopped out of his Jaguar XF S and didn’t bother to wait for her before he went inside. Like always, he’d come with no security, and that was one of the things Tristan loved and hated about Saint.

He was confident in himself and his abilities enough to never use guards unless he would be in large crowds, but the way rappers were being targeted these days, she wished he was more careful. Regardless of what she did to him and how things were between them, Tristan genuinely cared about her husband’s wellbeing. After looking her face over in the visor, Tristan got out of the car and made her way inside the medium sized studio.

Pictures of the hosts with several of their guests lined the bright blue walls. Her eyes zeroed in on Saint as he smiled at whatever was being said to him. Tristan made her way over, gaining the attention of the hosts first. Kyra and Jacob were a Black, married couple in their late forties. The two had been doing theirBlack Power Couplespodcast before podcasts were as popular as they were now. Having been offered several time slots on various TV networks, the couple opted to maintain complete control. Their goal with the podcast was always to highlight Black love and Black power when it came down to business and finances.

It seemed fitting that they would want to have Tristan and Saint on their show. On the outside looking in, they appeared to have it all—money, power, love, and respect—but only those closest to them knew how things really were behind closed doors.

“I’m so happy you could make it,” Kyra said, extending her hand for Tristan to shake.

“Thank you for the invitation. We’re happy to be here,” Tristan replied.

“Can we get you guys something to eat or drink before we get started?” Jacob offered, to which Saint replied with…

“Just water if you have it.”

“Of course,” Kyra said before heading to the right, while Jacob led them toward the door on the left.

While they waited for Kyra to return with the water, they made small talk. It didn’t come as a surprise to Tristan that Saint was pleasant throughout the entire interview. He didn’t play about his career, his image, or his money, and that was why Tristan had booked the interview. This might have been the only way the two would be able to be in the same room without arguing, and it was the only time Saint would say nice things to her and be affectionate. That was a cow Tristan would gladly milk until it ran dry.

The interview lasted for about forty-five minutes before they were asked to take pictures individually, as a couple, and with Kyra and Jacob. Tristan didn’t know how her body would respond being wrapped in Saint’s arms. As soon as she felt the heat transfer from his body to hers, her knees weakened. And when he placed a kiss on her cheek, she released a quiet moan. Just as warm and loving as Saint appeared inside the studio was just as cold and detached as he was when he walked her to her car.

“I know what you’re doing,” he said, facing the street as Kyra and Jacob looked on.

Tristan smiled as Saint opened the door for her. “What do you mean?”

“Booking all these couples’ interviews. Stop that shit.”

Tristan chuckled. “Interviews come with the platform. I will also be adding several stops to your tour. Don’t want you to have too much free time on your hands for Whitney.”

The cackle he released caught them both by surprise. Saint crossed his arms over his chest as he gave her a hard smile, trying his hardest to regulate his rapid heartbeat.

“What I do or don’t do with Whitney or anyone else is none of your concern. Why are you acting so brand new?”

“Brand new?” she repeated a little louder than she wanted to. “I’m trying to figure out how long you thought I would be okay with you cheating on me!”

“We discussed the fact that I would sleep with other women before we even got married, Tristan. You act like you didn’t know what you were agreeing to.”

Tristan avoided his eyes as her chin trembled. “You’re right. It’s my fault.” She chuckled with a shake of her head. “For some reason I thought if I treated you well enough, you wouldn’t want anyone else but me.”

“It’s never been about you or what you offer. I’ve never been satisfied with just one woman. I doubt if that will ever change.”

Nostrils flaring, Tristan huffed. “You can’t be satisfied with one woman because you’re not satisfied with yourself.”

Saint shrugged, face remaining expressionless. “Could be the case. Either way, you knew I wouldn’t be faithful when you asked me to marry you. If you can’t take what I bring to the table…” He lowered himself so that they were face to face. “Stand up and leave.”

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