Hello my wonderful readers! This has been a LOOOONG time coming don't you agree? I don't think I've updated since June which I sincerely apologize for! This chapter hasn't been betaed yet btu as son as I get that copy back from her I'll post it so you guys get the nice pretty polished version. But since I hadn't updated in so logn I figured I'd post what I have! I'm okay with this chapter, it was definitly influenced by my AP english class since I mention the book we just finished reading(kudos if you can figure it out). And umm.. I think that's about it! I hope y'all enjoy!
After leaving his bedside, Brooke got into her large SUV and started her journey home. She stayed with Lucas until he fell asleep, making sure that he was okay. She drove passed the park that she'd played at as a child, the trees barely budding as spring approached. She stopped at a stop sign, her eyes still focussed on the playground. The swings moved back and forth in the wind and if she closed her eyes, she could hear the childish laughter of her and Peyton. Sighing, she pressed the gas petal and turned up the late night talk that was on the radio.
She reached her large house, the one she and Lucas had picked out almost thirteen years ago. She got out of the car and stood on the sidewalk. The sun was barely starting to rise, chasing away the dark of night. The neighborhood was quiet and still around her. Looking up at her majestic home, surrounded by ear deafening silence, all she wanted to do was scream.
She hated that everything seemed so damn perfect on the outside. That everyone seemed to have the perfect spouses and the perfect children and be the perfect person. She hated that the widow next door always put on a smile and that the new couple down the street acted like they were perfectly happy when she knew that they weren't.
She hated how people could pass by her house and think that people who made good choices live in that house. Because only people who've made good choices could afford such a big house. How people could only think good of the people that lived inside. But she'd known ever since she was young that people in big houses are not good people. People in big houses live nothing but lies.
When she finally entered her house, she walked straight to Lucas' office. The dark blue walls were covered, for the most part, with dark wooden bookshelves. His desk sat in front of the large bay window that allowed her to see into the large backyard. Her hand found the light switch expertly in the dark, turning on the dim light. She hadn't been in there since before he left and the room looked so bare without him in there.
She walked over to the desk, her eyes traveling to the only book that laid upon it. The cover was warn and discolored except for the letter that laid in the middle. That still was a deep and vibrant red. It was still the first thing that caught her eye, diverting her attention away from the fairies and nymphs that surrounded the edges.
She sat down in the brown leather chair and picked the book up carefully in her hands. She never asked him what books he read because she knew that she'd never read them. She had only read three books that he had read. 'The Winter of Our Discontent', which she had read up to chapter 5 and then skimmed. Then there was 'The Catcher in the Rye' that she never finished because she found out about Lucas and Peyton for the first time. Then, finally, was that book.
It had been assigned in english during their junior year and it was the only classic book she read word for word. She hadn't realized till now that that was the book he had been reading. She shut her eyes and tried to remember when she first saw him reading it. Realization hit her after a few silent moments. "Bastard," she mumbled, tossing the book back onto the desk, it landing with a thud.
She wondered if she should've picked up on this. That she should've seen the 'A' and looked more at the little details about Lucas and Peyton. And while she saw the story as nothing more than revenge and lust, she knew Lucas saw it as one of love.
She walked down the sterile hallway, her shoes squeaking on the linoleum tile beneath her feet. It was before visiting hours and she hoped that Lucas would be alone. She had told the nurse at the receptionist desk that she was Lucas' sister and that she had just flown in to see him. The nurse had smiled at her and quickly gave her the room number.
She opened the door slowly, her eyes focussed on the ground so that her head was hung. She knew that being there wasn't appropriate but she had to see him, had to make sure he was okay. She expected him to be asleep, so that her time there would go unknown by everyone, save her and the nightly receptionist. But when she walked into the room, she saw him sitting up, reading a classic novel, one that he had lent her in high school. She already knew that there were at least 5 highlighted sentences on the page he was reading, marking his favorite lines.
He looked completely enthralled by the words on the pages that she thought for a moment that he didn't know she was there. "Are you going to stand there all night?" She hung her head once more and made her way to his bedside. She didn't hold her head high or walk in with confidence, something she only did when she felt shame or felt inferior. He didn't look up from his book and made no other effort to greet her. She had come to him meaning she should make the first move.
They hadn't spoken since her birthday. He had called her, saying nothing more than 'Happy Birthday' before hanging up. The call her been a sign that he still cared. But the line between care and love were blurred in the eyes of the blonde.
After moments of silence, she spoke timidly. "How are you?"
His instinct was to tell her he was horrible. He was in the hospital and would ultimately be alone when he left. Still, he answered, "Better."
He watched as she kept her gaze on her lap, twiddling her fingers. He wanted to ask her how she found out he was in there and why she had come but somehow the words didn't make their way out of his mouth. "I'm sorry."
She wanted to badly to be apologizing for their affair. But she couldn't. Instead, she was sorry that he was alone and that she had never been good enough for him. Because he could never stray far from her.
"Me too." He was honestly sorry for breaking her heart. He had lead her on. But that implied that there wasn't any form of future for them and, to his worst fear, he couldn't honestly say that was true. "Are you staying?"
She lifted her head to look at him. "If you'll have me." He gave her a slight nod before returning to his book. She settled in her seat, the same chair Brooke had nestled in earlier that night. Slowly, Peyton pulled out her sketchbook, finding inspiration for her commission. They sat in silence, reading and drawing in what appeared to be complete peace.
She walked down the sterile hallway, trying to manage all the stuff that she had in her arms. There were tons of 'Get Well Soon' cards as well as balloons. She was almost to his room when the pile of cards escaped her grasp. "Great," she said with a frustrated sigh. She slowly began making her way down towards the ground when she felt someone's hand on her arm. "Let me get those for you."
She followed the hand up to the man's face and immediately thought she was 18 again. "Paul." He had gotten older, no doubtedly in his late 40s now. His head was shaved now, and he had stubble across his jaw line. There were more lines around his eyes and had put on a little weight but still looked like the nice wealthy man her parents had introduced her to.
He smiled down at her. "Brooke. It's great to see you again."
She found herself returning the smile. "Wow, small world huh," she said with a laugh. "What are you doing here?"
"Dropping off some flowers to my ex wife. Don't know why I should considering she blames me for her heart problems." He murmured the last part and once again a soft laugh escaped her lips. "What about you?"
"Delivering all this stuff to my husband." The words slide off her tongue like a second nature even though he hadn't been her husband for a long time. "Ex. Ex husband." She repeated herself in hopes of it sticking in her mind.
Paul raised his eyebrows. "Ex?"
She nodded sadly. "We're divorcing." As she said those two words, she rubber her belly, the baby suddenly active in her stomach.
"Oh. I'm so sorry," Paul replied genuinely, giving her shoulder a light squeeze. Then he picked up the cards that had fallen at her feet and handed them back to her. "Here you go."
She smiled at him gratefully. "Thank you. I should be going."
He nodded and motioned towards the elevators. "Me too."
She started to walk away then but stopped when she heard him. "Do you want to go out for lunch sometime?" She turned on her heel to look at him.
Taking a deep breath she nodded. "I'd like that."
"I was wondering when you'd be stopping by again," Lucas said warmly as Brooke walked into the room. She walked to his bedside, giving him a quick peck on the side of his head. She placed all the cards and balloons on the table next to his bed.
She stopped for a moment, having this feeling that something... off. "Did someone visit you already?"
The lie rolled off his tongue. "No. Just you." He watched her, wondering if she knew he was lying. He looked at her, really looked at her and knew that she knew. But still she said nothing, and let the lie go.
There was something different about her too and he couldn't quite figure out what it was. The only thing he knew was that there was the smell of somebody's cologne on her.
Still he said nothing.
Because people in big houses live nothing but lies in hopes of masking the heartache that is inevitable.