I peer out my office window fully expecting to find the media camped outside the front of my house. The photographer that is across the street isn’t hiding very well as he stands there casually on the corner acting as if he is about the cross the street. I can really only see his side profile, but that’s enough to show that he’s trying to hide his camera on the other side of his body. I drop the blinds and leave my office.

Darian is still here, unwilling to leave me by myself in the event that Van shows up. I’m not afraid of Van and Darian knows this, but deep down I think Darian is trying to play the big brother card. The thought warms me that he wants to be protective, even if I don’t need it. I want it though. I want Van to realize how badly he’s fucked up.

It was my brother’s idea that I try to remain as normal as possible. As much as I want to sit around and mope, to eat ice cream and potato chips all day with my hair piled in a messy bun and my face devoid of moisturizer, I can’t because it makes me feel worse even though I want to crawl into a hole and disappear. The thought of doing that makes it feel like Van has won some unknown battle we were having.

He did win in a way, but he was the only one playing the game. I’ve never claimed to be perfect, but I have always been faithful to him from the time it dawned on me that I had a crush on him. No one that I have ever come across was enough to tempt me. Too bad he couldn’t say the same thing.

Darian finds me in my closet, staring at Van’s clothes. He stands in the doorway, watching me and saying nothing. He doesn’t need to.

I sigh and glance at him. The smile that plays on my lips is lackadaisical at best, but his isn’t. He tells me that he’s going to be here for me, no matter what, that he’s going to be my rock, the shoulder I need to cry on and my best friend.

“Want me to pack his shit?” he asks with a smirk.

Shaking my head, I search for something to lounge around in.

“Wouldn’t it be funny if we put everything in black bags and set them out front?” he states with a laugh. I quickly follow suit because yes that would be hilarious and front-page news. Laura would love the publicity, although it isn’t the type that she wants.

The phone for the front gate rings and Darian rushes to go answer it. The only person I could imagine showing up would be Laura, or maybe Rusty and Gabe, the other two members of my band. I dress quickly and make my way downstairs, only to hear Darian yelling into the phone.

I jump when he slams the receiver down. “What’s going on?” I ask.

Darian faces me looking angry. “That was a reporter asking for you to come outside so they can talk to you.”

“What? How do they know?” I ask as I run back upstairs to my office to peek out of my blinds.

“The guy on the phone said they were alerted that you and Van have separated.”

I turn and look at Darian. “It’s been barely twenty-four hours,” I say as Darian’s arms come around me. “Did he do this?”

“I don’t know, Z. It doesn’t seem like Van to go the media, but if he wants you to talk to him, maybe this is his way.”

“If he wanted me to talk to him he shouldn’t have cheated.”

“I know,” he says sighing. I step out of his arms and head toward the window with him following. We both lift a slat and peer outside. The crowd is growing, and the photographer that was across the street has now taken up a spot at my gate.

“Bastards.”

“We’re used to it,” Darian reminds me. The thing is, I don’t mind the media for the most part as long as they leave me alone when I’m at home. This is my private residence, where I need to be able to move around freely without an audience. Right now, they’re preventing that. Even if I wanted to leave, I couldn’t. There is no way I could risk someone walking through my gate when I tried to leave.

“I’m stranded.”

“No, you’re not. If we need to leave, we’ll call for police to come help.”

I frown. “It’s stupid to bother police because of this. I’ll call a security company and hire them for the time being.”

I can feel Darian’s eyes on me as I leave the room. The only time we have security is when we’re on tour, and that is because the promoters are trying to protect their investments. When we’re home, we like to live like normal people. Come and go as we please, go grocery shopping and eat at In-N-Out. Of course, people ask for autographs, but it hasn’t been anything I can’t handle.

After locating my cell phone, I groan at the amount of missed calls. Van, Laura and my mom are the ones that appear the most. I didn’t forget to call my mom. I was waiting, thinking I had more time until the media caught wind of what’s going on. As much as I want to talk to my mom, she has to wait, and as mad as I am at Laura I need her to take care of getting some security sent over to my house, or at least give me a number to call and I’ll set it up myself.

“Zara, are you calling to tell me you’ve changed your mind about Van?” Laura says only seconds after I pressed her name.

“Not even close, but it seems that the media has caught wind and I need security.”

Laura’s quiet for a few seconds before I hear her sigh heavily. “You know all of this will vanish if Van comes home.”

“He’s not welcome, Laura. I don’t understand why you can’t understand that.”

“Because this is bigger than your feelings, Zara. He’s an integral part of Reverend Sister, and you need him.”

I roll my eyes and try to think of a rebuttal, but nothing comes to mind. She’s not saying anything that Darian and I hadn’t already discussed. “Listen, Laura, Reverend Sister was mine long before Van Phillips walked into my garage. I’m not the one who cheated, he was. I didn’t violate the trust of the band. He did. And until I figure out what I’m going to do, band business happens as usual. As of right now, Van can stay, but not in my house.”

“Zara--”

“No, you listen, Laura. If you want to stay on as our publicist, you will remember who you work for. You know, you’re starting to make me think you’re sleeping with my husband too.”

There’s a long silence that falls between us, making my stomach drop to the floor. “That’s fucking wonderful,” I say as I hang up. Fuck her and Van, and every other bitch he’s slept with. I’m tempted to break my phone, but I can’t bring myself to let it fly out of my hand although the crunching sound it would make as it hit the wall would be somewhat soothing, but then I’d be pissed that I broke my phone and have to buy a new one.

“Darian,” I yell as I turn my phone off and put it in the drawer.

“What’s up?” he asks, running into the kitchen.

“Can you call mom? I just can’t look at my phone anymore.” Tears fall quickly, and I find myself being pressed against Darian’s chest.

“I’m going to beat his ass,” he says. This time I don’t tell him no because maybe that is what Van needs. I don’t think I can bring myself to tell Darian that Van has slept with our publicist. The thought makes me ill and hits me like a ton of bricks. I have to get myself to the doctors to be tested for whatever disease he could’ve given me. As much as I don’t want to think about catching him yesterday, I don’t remember seeing a condom.

I close my eyes and continue to cry while my brother holds me. In the blink of an eye, everything that I knew my life to be has been nothing but a lie. I devoted my life to that man since I was seventeen and this is how he shows me what I mean to him, by destroying my trust in him.

I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do now. How do I proceed knowing I can’t trust my publicist? Her betrayal is just as bad as Van’s. We pay her to work for us and if she’s sleeping with Van that makes her a whore.

It all makes sense now, her pushing me to just brush this all under the rug. If Van isn’t married the likelihood that they continue their affair is out the window. That’s my logic at least. If he were single, why would he choose to be with someone like her? He wouldn’t. He’ll have so many women falling at his feet that Laura and her assistant will be nothing but a blip on his radar.

I’m tempted to tell Darian about Laura, but hold back. I need to tell the group as a whole and save myself from having to repeat the same story over and over. Darian lets me go, but keeps his hands on my shoulders.

“What do you need, Z?”

“Food and for Rusty and Gabe to come over. We need to have a meeting.”

He nods. “I’m on it.”

I head back upstairs and look through my blinds again. Not only has the media sustained its presence outside my home, but also it seems that fans are starting to gather. Unfortunately, a press release is going to have to be issued, or I can let the speculation grow. It won’t take long to confirm what they already know especially once I file divorce papers.

Speaking of divorce, if I wasn’t certain before, I am now. One incident I might be able to forgive, but not two and not one with a woman that works for us. With one last look outside I head back downstairs to find Darian sitting at the island and chatting on his phone. He smiles at me as I pass by and pull out the drawer where I thought I could keep my phone hidden. Powering it back on, I scroll through the contacts until I find the one for my agent and press his number.

“TMZ says that you and Van have separated?”

“Doesn’t anyone say hello anymore?” I ask Ryan Greene, the man who secured our first record deal.

“Hello, Zara. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I need a lawyer. The best.”

“So the rumors are true?” he asks.

“I don’t know what you’ve heard, but if it’s that my husband can’t keep it in his pants, then yes.”

“Shit,” he mutters.

“Yeah.”

“Hang tight, and I’ll send one to your house.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier if I go there?” I ask.

“It would be, or you can have her come to you. This would save you from having to make a public statement later. I’m going to send the best celebrity divorce attorney. This will be easy.”

But not painless. “Send her,” I say before hanging up. At this point, I don’t even care about the damage done to Van’s reputation because he clearly didn’t care about any of my feelings when he was sticking his dick in whatever pussy he could find. If he didn’t have any respect for me, why should I for him?