Author's Note: I really want to thank Tamarindo for the review she left me. Honestly, it made feel like someone was truly getting what I was trying to show in this story, and I'm really thankful that I received your review. Everyone's waiting for the big twist, but it's going to be a while, folks. Keep in mind we have around twenty-five to twenty-seven chapters or so left. There will be lots of bumps in the road, lots of twists and surprises, and I'm really hoping everyone will like where it ends.

PS: This chapter adds a bit of insight to all you confused Brooke lovers.

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Movie Script Ending

Chapter Twenty-Six: I Lost Myself Inside Someone Else

It took Peyton a second to fully gain consciousness and to allow the cloudy images of her Edward Norton-centered dream to slip away regretfully. As she looked around her bedroom, so unlike her bedroom in high school with its pale blue walls and her closet big enough to fit just clothes and shoes, she felt a wave of loneliness pass over her. While usually she would awake in the arms of a certain dark-haired neighbor, today she found herself alone in her bed, with just a thin sheet draped over her frame.

She sat up slowly, running a hand through her heavily disheveled head of curls, looking around for signs of male life. No clothes on the floor, no sound of water from the shower - it seemed he was gone.

The red note on her bedside table caught her eye only once she'd swung her legs off the bed and was preparing herself to stand. Curious, she raised the note to her face.

Go to the kitchen, it read. She recognized the large, sloppy handwriting instantly and found a smile growing over her features involuntarily, replacing the look of confusion that had taken its place moments before.

Feeling slightly self-conscious because she was wearing nothing, Peyton pulled her boyfriend's - hey, she had a boyfriend! - much larger shirt over her head and then tugged on a pair of her own boy shorts, padding slowly down the stairs towards her kitchen.

Just months ago, this house had seemed too large and empty to live in by herself, but now she found that she loved it. She loved the colors of the rooms and the many large windows and the garden she had planted all on her own. Of course, she mused, months ago she had also not had Dave.

She rounded the corner to her kitchen, grinning instantly at the site of her boyfriend, wearing just boxers, standing over a pan of cooking pancakes.

"All this for me?" She teased, wrapping her arms around him from behind. She liked the way he felt against her. Their bodies seemed to fit. To mold into one.

"Well," He said warmly, "I thought I'd have more time before you woke up to make you a full-on breakfast."

She surveyed the area. He'd made eggs, bacon, sausage, hash browns, a bowl of fruits, waffles, and two different kind of pancakes in addition to the ones that were still cooking. "Okay, and what do you call this?"

He turned around to face her, wrapping his arms around her shorter frame and pressing his lips to her forehead. "Good morning, beautiful."

"What an interesting name," She joked, pecking him on the lips quickly before turning once more towards the meal he'd made her. "I can't believe this. No guy has ever made me breakfast before, you know."

"Good to know. I'm happy to be the first." He was grinning his lopsided, boyish grin and she felt her stomach do flip-flops. Leave it to Peyton Sawyer to still feel that feeling after a few months of dating.

"Flowers too!" She cooed, looking over the bouquet of flowers he'd put into a vase for her, sitting beside her already made-up placemat. She felt so warm inside. Never before had she been in such a stable relationship. There was no drama with Dave, and he absolutely treated her like she was everything to him. On the days that he didn't stay over, she was over at his place. Rarely did they spend time apart. For her, this was all knew. She had never before been in a serious, out of high school relationship. There was no love triangles, no babies, no drama. She loved it.

As he finished off the last batch of pancakes, Dave began to make a plate of food for himself. Peyton watched him as he carefully loaded fruits onto his plate, and then some bacon and some chocolate chip pancakes. He looked handsome and rugged, with his hair up on all ends and his eyes still tired from sleep. She wanted to kiss him, but at the same time, the food was so good that she could not bring herself to stop eating it.

He took a seat across from her, pouring them both a cup of coffee. Her fingers curled around the mug and she smiled fondly at her boyfriend.

"What?"

"This was just really sweet of you to do." She gestured towards the table in front of them.

"Ah, it was no big deal. You deserve it." He shrugged as if it truly wasn't a big deal.

Peyton laughed. "How? All I do is sit on my ass all day and sell clothes online." She was referring to her profession, which had made her quite successful and yet required not much of her at all.

He leaned across the table to kiss her, and when she deepened the kiss by pulling him closer, he pulled away. "That's how," he whispered, breathless.

"You don't have work today do you?" Peyton asked, frowning when her boyfriend nodded. He worked for an advertising company, Monday through Friday. He had to wear nice clothes to work too, which she always found bothersome.

"It's okay. I told them I'd be in late because I had to take care of my sick girlfriend."

"Your sick girlfriend, huh?" Peyton took a bite of a peach, her smirk both amused and seductive at the same time.

"Uh-huh," David told her, standing so that he was on the other side of the table, right beside her. Easily, he lifted her out of the seat, onto the counter, knocking over plates of food he'd spent hours making. "You should see her. It's a mess."

"Oh, poor girl." She wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck, covering his mouth with hers.

"I hope I don't catch anything.." He murmured into her mouth.

She giggled. "Aw, and then you'd have to miss work. What a shame."

Peyton was falling hard, and she was loving it.

-

Her hands were folded neatly in her lap, and she told herself that the reason they were shaking because the bus ride was so bumpy. She felt so small all of a sudden, and maybe she had lost a bit of weight these past months. Truth is, she'd been stressed since the moment her and Nathan first kissed.

Brooke sat higher in her seat, staring out the window of the large, interestingly smelling bus. She wore a red wool hat, pulled stylishly back over her hair, leaving her long bangs to fall in her face. She also wore a flowered dress that fell just below her knees, probably much more for summer than the end of winter. Over this, she wore a black coat.

All she could do as she sat was wonder how she could possibly be doing this. She hadn't seen Nathan in weeks, and all he'd had to do was call and ask her to come to this place, and here she was, taking the bus.

What was she doing here? Why was she doing this? God, this was so insane. This was not her. She was not this person that cheated on their husband. She hated cheaters. There was no way she was one. After what Lucas and Peyton had done to her in high school, she had felt so low. So terrible. Her heart had shattered into millions of pieces, and not only had she lost her boyfriend, but she'd also lost her best friend. This, well, this was much worse. Nathan was Lucas' brother. This was so wrong.

She had always scoffed at women in books or movies that cheated on their wonderful husbands with other men. In fact, she had actually rolled her eyes at the thought of Unfaithful. Richard Gere may - or may not have - shoved a gerbil up his ass, but that didn't mean he deserved to have his wife cheat on him with some Italian guy. Honestly, she had just never understood what the appeal of cheating was. The deceit, the pain it caused -- what good came of it? If you didn't want to be with someone, end it. But what if you did wanted to be with someone, you just wanted to be with someone else too?

As she thought of her former self, and then her husband, probably at work right now, Brooke began to weep. Using her hand to stifle her cries, she could feel the cool band of her wedding ring against her lips, and she pulled it away from her face, staring at it as if it were the only thing that mattered in the world. As if this tiny piece of history meant everything. And it did. Or at least, it symbolized everything.

Everything she should have been standing for.

She didn't know why she couldn't just stop this. Maybe it was because her and Lucas were slowly growing farther and farther apart, and really, it had nothing to do with the affair. It had to do with them. Him always needing to do business and her always needing him.

She couldn't need someone who didn't need them back anymore. It was too hard. Nathan needed her. She could feel it in the urgency in his touch and the way he looked at her as if she were saving him. She liked that they were both unstable. She liked knowing that Nathan would not be okay without her. Maybe that made her sick, but in a way, it felt like she was just human.

This was a mistake. This entire thing had been a mistake. But she would not stop until she felt needed by Lucas. And by the time that happened, it would be too late.

Wiping her eyes, she realized that the bus was coming to a stop at the street she had been told to get off on. Nathan hadn't wanted her to meet him at his apartment, but here instead. It was nice, friendly-looking neighborhood, with small houses with nice little green gardens. The bus stopped at its stop, and she slowly stood, shaking even as she exited.

She looked up at the houses. The one she'd be meeting Nathan in was abandoned, and she could instantly pick it out from the others. It was cute, but one of the windows was smashed in, and the grass wasn't as green as the others.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," She said to herself out loud. "This isn't right." As if hearing it would make it more true.

Brooke cleared her throat, taking hesitant steps towards the house. She could remember visiting this area as a child. Her and Peyton had entered upon a dare from Nathan, convinced ghosts lurked around the small house. Instead, they'd found old couches and the hint of a life left behind. They had held hands and screamed when they'd opened a closet and an old ironing board had fallen between them. Nathan had stood outside with the other guys, chuckling.

She looked around the neighborhood quickly before pushing open the front door. The house smelled just as she remembered it, and the scent was comforting. She wanted to go back to being a nine-year old girl with Peyton, entering this house expecting to see Casper.

"Brooke," Nathan appeared suddenly, looking just as unsure as she felt. The house was dark, the only light illuminating the room coming from the few windows draped with sorry excuses for curtains. There were two couches in the room Nathan was emerging from, and on the floor before them, a small picnic. He'd packed pasta and salad and wine glasses sat beside a bottle of Merlot.

Brooke approached him slowly. "I don't know why I came," She blurted out. "This - what we're.."

He nodded uneasily, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm sorry. I mean, I know it's wrong. I do, I really do. But we're.. I guess I just need you."

She squeezed her eyes shut. He needed her. God, this was what she'd wanted to hear from Lucas for years. She wanted to feel like he would collapse if she left him. But she felt none of this. And as she looked over at Nathan, she did. Biting her lip, she approached him, pulling him down for a hug.

Nathan held her close, pulling off her hat slowly and tossing it towards the ground. She pulled away from him, using her fingers to graze his cheeks, now growing a bit more of a beard than the last time she'd seen him. She tugged his face towards hers until their lips met.

They undressed quickly but had no time to eat their lunch, preoccupied with their adultery.