Chapter Twenty-One: Don't Stop and Turn Away
Brooke shed her wrap as she walked through the entrance hall, dropped her blue clutch on the table. She turned to her husband, about to comment on the evening, on Haley, on Ryan and Jake, but found he'd already begun to make his way to his study.
She slid her tall designer shoes off and made several circles of the hall, contemplating deeply, trying to regain balance, telling herself over and over again that it wasn't anything, wishing she could let herself believe it.
Instead, she made herself reflect on the evening. It had been nice. The five course meals, the white tablecloths had become a part of her life, but she still enjoyed them. Especially when something exciting and dramatic happened, like Haley showing up.
That was one thing Brooke couldn't wrap her head around. Ryan had gone to Nathan but he'd shed no insight on the situation, because he had none.
She smiled automatically at Lucas as he exited his office.
"I'm going to bed. You coming?" he asked. She nodded.
"In a sec."
Waiting until he'd reached the top of the stairs, she darted into the small room and closed the door. She looked around guiltily, at the couch against one wall, his wide oak desk, the files strewn about it.
Brooke walked swiftly to his leather desk chair and sat down before beginning to peruse these.
The first few meant nothing to her. Records, resumes, everything having to do with Lucas' job with Nathan at the company. She encounted the confirmation of his first class flight to San Diego-she stared at this a moment, wondering why he hadn't used the company plane. With shaking hands she reached for an envelope on the desk, adressed in elegant handwriting, already opened.
Her hand dropped on the desk and her eyes widened in panic as the doorknob turned and Lucas stepped in.
"Brooke? What are you doing here?" he asked in surprise. She stared blankly at hime for a second and noted that he was still wearing his white shirt and dress pants, that his tie was loosened around his neck.
Slowly she moved to the other side of the desk, formulating a plan as she walked. As he glanced at her, he realied that her feet were still bare, and that her hair was now down her back.
She slid one spaghetti strap down her shoulder, and the other. The silky fabric of her dress fell to the floor and she stepped out of the pool of fabric, now wearing only her strapless bra.
"You went commando," he uttered, realizing as he spoke that it wasn't the most romantic of sentiments. He swallowed, but his throat remained dry.
"I'm not a big fan of lines."
"Me neither."
He slowly approached her, and Brooke attempted to hide her guilt as she covered her indiscretion in the only way she knew how.
Her hands began to expertly unbutton his shirt as he slowly kissed her, relishing the moment, glad he had her and wasn't alone like his brother, glad that even after so long she was all he wanted.
His hands slid around her thighs and he lifted her onto the desk. She tried to hide her fear as he kissed her neck and unfastened her bra and cast it onto the floor.
That night, for the first time in years, Brooke's pinnacle of passion was staged. Not because the act in itself was any less, but because with a man she couldn't bring herself to trust, it was impossible for it to be real. Which was odd, she reflected, because before him, she'd been able to do it for years.
Hours later, after they were both in bed, Brooke slipped out, wrapped a robe around herself and ran back downstairs. She entered the study, walked slowly to the desk. Her hand hovered to the letter again and again, but she couldn't make herself pick it up. It felt so wrong. So untrusting, and he'd done everything to earn her trust.
She couldn't do it. She walked, slowly now, up the stairs. She paused in the doorway of Devon's room. Looked at the mess of comic books spread out haphazardly on the floor, at how he'd thrown off his bedcovers in the night. She entered silently, straightened his curtains, spread his comforter over his shivering body. She leaned down to kiss his forehead. She loved all her children, but couldn't help the involuntary empathy she felt for Devon, who'd decided her entire future.
When she at last went back to her bed she hovered on the edge of it, waiting for the dawn. The next morning as she always did, Brooke made breakfast for her kids and waved goodbye to the two eldest with her three youngest as they left for school in their uniforms.
She played with Connor while Zoë and Bailey took their naps, she listened to Devon and Hayden tell her about their days at school. All of it went on as it normally did.
It wasn't until evening that it occurred to Brooke to call Haley, and she waited until nightfall to do so, leaving the five kids with Lucas.
"Haley?" asked Brooke, when she answered. She was shocked by the male voice that answered, and frowned immediately. She heard muffled voices as he covered the phone.
"Haley?" she asked again.
"Brooke? I'm here, and if you don't mind I'd really rather not talk about it," said Haley. Brooke briefly remembered Haley's appearance the night before, her sudden desparture.
"Good. Me neither. I think Lucas is having an affair."