Lucas remained in the home in Greenwich while Brooke moved back to the loft in the city. By day she was the dedicated workaholic keeping the publicity and production sections up and running, facing the world with a brave front. By night she was a shivering mess, lying in bed awake at all hours of the night sobbing until she was physically ill. Balancing the two different sides was the hardest task yet.

Brooke entered the office late. Wearing the latest from the Sascha Naj business casual collection, she was a stunning model for the knee length black skirt, sensible pumps and lavender blouse. As usual her hair was perfectly in place and her make up applied without flaw. She was falling apart on the inside but bound and determined not to let it show on the outside.

"Good afternoon, lovely co-workers", she chirped.

It was her normal chipper greeting but it wasn't returned with the usual smiles and comments complimenting her on the outfit of the day. Her greeting was instead met with zero eye contact and low whispers. Shrugging, Brooke took a seat in her office and threw herself into work plans.

"Hey Brooke", Chantal smiled as she knocked.

"Hi, Friend. Get in here. What's going on?"

"You okay?"

"I'm great. It's another beautiful day in the greatest city in the world."

"Okay. Um, are…are you sure?"

"Sure I'm sure. Why wouldn't I be sure?"

"No reason", the younger girl sighed as she desperately thought of the right words to say in the situation. "I guess I'll let you get back to work. I'll be at my station if you need me…if you want to talk."

"Okay. Thanks…I think."

Brooke rolled her eyes. She wondered the reason behind everyone's peculiar behavior but she had no time to ponder over it. She still had to schedule a meeting with the people over at Kenneth Cole.

"Knock, knock."

"Jess. Hey. Come in", Brooke smiled as she looked up at her boss.

"Hey, Brooke", Jessica said as she shifted nervously. "Um, what's going on?"

"Not a lotta. How about you?"

"Nothing. Uh…I, I just stopped by to see if you're okay."

"I'm fine…just wondering why everyone keeps asking me that today."

"Just…if you need to talk…then I'm here. And if you need to, you know, take some time off and get away, then by all means, please do so."

"Okay, now you're starting to creep me out here. We've established that I'm okay and no I don't need to take time off, although thanks for asking. Besides, the company is in its busiest stages."

"I know and we do need you, Brooke. We love you and we appreciate you. You do a hell of a job around here so if there's anything you need, anything at all, just let us…don't hesitate to ask."

"Okay."

Brooke nodded as Jessica just stood in the doorway for a few minutes looking like she was fighting back tears. Finally she walked away leaving Brooke to feel like she was trapped in an episode of the Twilight Zone. Shaking it off, she continued to sort through files and reports and other matters of the day. Invoices were stacked a mile high on her desk, receipts from the last fashion show. Brooke took a deep breath before going to the copier with the stack. Reconciling the financial accounts were her least favorite thing next to making copies and she knew it was going to be a long day. Taking a finger nail file to pass the time away at the copy machine, she couldn't help but notice the stares and hushed whispers. What the hell is with these people today, she thought to herself. Finally done, she went into her office and let the door shut behind her. A half hour later there was another knock.

"Come in", Brooke answered, slightly annoyed.

It was Gordon, one of the analysts. He was a bald head RuPaul look alike with a sassy walk, an even sassier sense of style and absolutely no one could rock eyeliner like he did.

"Hey, Miss Thang", he said solemnly.

"Hiya, Gordie, what's shaking? You look prettier than me today."

"I just wanted to see if you were okay…"

Brooke slammed her hands on the desk. She'd had it.

"Gordon, what the hell? Of course I am okay! Why wouldn't I be okay? In fact you're like the tenth person to ask me if I'm okay. Now what is going on?"

"Nothing, I guess", he said, obviously lying as he busily began filing his nails.

"Oh no you don't. Don't give me that. Gordon, you know everybody's business in this office. Now spill it. What is the deal? What is up with everyone asking me if I'm okay? How come every time I leave my office, everybody stares and whispers like I tucked my dress inside my pantyhose or something?"

"Child, I ain't one to gossip…"

"Oh Gordon, for Christ's sake! You know you want to tell me. Now come on, give up the scoop. From one sister to another…"

"Alright girl", he said shutting the door. "Everybody is just worried how you're holding up after that trifling ass but nevertheless gorgeous husband of yours did you more wrong that 1 plus 1 equaling 3."

Brooke's blood ran cold.

"Gordon, what are you talking about?"

"Your man laying up in a hotel with some old skanky, sketchy, nasty ass groupie."

"What…wait…how did you…um, where did you hear that from, Gordon?"

"Girl, it's public knowledge", he said as he opened his briefcase and pulled out a paper, handing it to Brooke.

She felt the world around her literally collapse as she saw her picture plastered on the front page of the National Enquirer next to Lucas and some blonde. The headline read, "Basketball Star Cheats On Wife! Exclusive Pictures And Interview From The Other Woman".

"Oh my God", she whispered over and over again. "How in the world…"

She flipped through the tabloid and saw pictures of her and her husband in happier times. Photos of Holly Thurman, the "other woman" surrounded them in various sexy poses from her modeling days. There was also one picture of the woman with Lucas apparently as they had walked back to the hotel that fateful night. Next to the photos were Holly's sordid and graphic tale of sex with the NBA All Star. Brooke felt like she might vomit as she read the woman describing the size and shape of her husband's penis.

"Girl don't be upsetting yourself reading that mess! Ain't that some bullshit? Selling your filthy little story for a few grand and 15 minutes of fame. Looks to me like 14 of them are about up. That scrawny ass trying to look sexy in a bikini. Child please! You know she look like death eating on a cracker. What was Lucas thinking with his fine, dumb ass? Went from a Penthouse pet to an Outhouse pet."

Once again Brooke could not think or see or hear or even breathe. All sense of reality and life as she knew it seemed to slip away. It was one thing to deal with the excruciating pain of having her husband cheat on her…it was quite another thing to be publicly humiliated.

"Gordon, are there any other…"

"Every tabloid, People Magazine, US and the New York Post. Oh and it scrolled through that little news flash thin on CNN this morning, too."

"CNN? What the hell? My God, don't we like have a war going on right now? Why is CNN broadcasting that my lying, despicable, no good bastard of a husband fucked around on me with some bleached blonde gutter rat?"

"Who knows, girl?"

"Oh Gordon! What am I gonna do? I am so humiliated! Everyone knows! How can I face the world now? I don't know what to do. Oh my God, this is so not happening! I can't handle this Gordon, I just can't", she began to sob.

"Uh-uh, girl. Don't you be having no Mariah Carey breakdown on me. Look. You're gonna get yourself together, fix your hair and mascara and we're gonna walk right out of this office together with our heads held high. Just like the million dollar divas we are. We'll go back to your place and figure this out, okay?"

Brooke frantically nodded her head and did what she was told. She had no other choice and Gordon was her only remaining lifeline. So she gathered herself together and walked proudly out of the office on the arm of her friend amidst the stares of pity and office gossip. Grabbing her purse, Chantal flowed the pair out.

"Brooke, I'm really sorry…"

"It's okay, Chantal."

The three walked out onto the busy Manhattan street.

"There she is", yelled a photographer.

Within seconds they were surrounded by nearly 30 members of the paparazzi.

"Mrs. Scott, are the rumors true?"

"Mrs. Scott, will you please comment?"

"Mrs. Scott, what do you have to say about your husband's alleged affair?"

They were in her face like greedy, merciless vultures. Flashbulb after flashbulb went off in her face nearly blinding her.

"No comment", she yelled. "Please leave me alone. I have no comment."

Gordon protectively wrapped an arm around her while they fended off the rabid reporters to make it to Brooke's car.

"You heard her now get out of here! Scoot!" Gordon shooed them.

Finally they made it into the car where they took off, heading for the loft.

"Girl, we have to do damage control. You need to release a statement."

"I can't believe this", Brooke shook her head. "This is so horrible, it's unreal. It's like Edgar Allan Poe or something. Who would of thought? The former publicist needing a publicist. Oh the irony!"

"I'm here for you, girl. We both are", Gordon said, nodding at Chantal as well. "I'll do the release for you. How about this? 'It is with great regret that I announce separation from my husband, Lucas Scott. At this time, I will not comment about the current state of my marriage or the event(s) that led up to our separating. I ask that you please respect my privacy at this time. Thank you.' How is that?"

"It's fine", Brooke whispered as a tear fell.

"Brooke, please don't cry", Chantal pleaded as she hugged her.

"Thanks you guys. Both of you. I don't know how I would have gotten through today without you. This is so hard. It's so crazy that it is surreal. I have been publicly humiliated and my personal life will probably be tabloid fodder for the next year. Handling this in the press is no doubt going to be horrifying but more than that…I, I still have the issue of Lucas to deal with. God, he's still my husband. I still love him with all my heart but I hate him at the same time. He violated my trust and he compromised our vows…how could he?"

Gordon and Chantal hugged her as she started to cry again.

"You'll be fine, Brooke", Chantal assured her. "You'll be fine. Somehow you and Lucas will get through this. If anyone is strong enough to handle this, I know you are."

Brooke herself wasn't so sure. Was she strong enough to face the entire world when they were all talking about and feeling sorry for her? And what about her husband? Could the marriage be saved? It was all too much. After all, how could she remain with a man she couldn't even bare to look at?