Title: Our Love Is Like A Rose

Couples: Brooke/Nathan, Peyton/Lucas, (Haley is probably going to be by herself)

Disclaimer:I do not own any of this story nor the idea it was by apple01, but as she has not continued this story over year I would love to finish it for her.

Summary:

Love? What is love? What defines the moment of falling head over heels in love with someone? Is it something you can control? Is it apart of fate? Are we destined to be with certain people? Is it out of our control? Or do we get to choose who we spend the rest of our lives with? Who we marry, cherish, and love till death do us part? Is there such a thing as true, never-ending love? Or is it a false perception? Do all people believe that they will one day fall in love or find the person of their dreams? Do you believe in love?

They were the perfect couple. She was head of the cheerleading squad. He was the varsity basketball captain. She was Prom Queen. He was Prom King. They were voted as the fairy tale couple all through high school. Everyone thought their love was unbreakable, so strong it could withstand anything. However, on the first day of summer after graduation, the day he was going to propose to her, everything changed. She left, leaving only a note, breaking both their hearts in the process. Now, six years later, fate has them meet up again in an unexpected situation. Two individuals journey through the road of heartbreak and true love as they try to make peace with past mistakes while dealing with feelings from long ago.

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"Some of the best lessons we ever learn are learned from past mistakes. The error of the past is the wisdom and success of the future." –Dale E. Turner

"You must learn from your past mistakes, but not lean on your past successes." –Denis Waitley

"When you make a mistake, don't look back at it long. Take the reason of the thing into your mind, and then look forward. Mistakes are lessons of wisdom. The past cannot be changed. The future is yet in your power." –Phyllis Bottome

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The rapid sound of treading high heels echoed across the vast fist floor of Allure, one of the top interior decorating companies in the country. The enormous glass door opened revealing a tall lean brunette, dressed in the latest fashions. She wore slimming black Marc Jacob pants and a dark green Chanel baby doll tank accessories with emerald studs and black Jimmy Choo open-toe pumps. Her dark chocolate brown hair flowed over her shoulders in loose curls while her almond-shaped hazel eyes were hidden behind black Dior sunglasses. As she made her way down the floor, all surrounding workers looked up.

"Good Morning, Ms. Davis," they cried, one after the other.

She merely waved her hand as in recognition. The beauty finally stopped in front of a red head secretary, who was scribbling furiously onto a calendar.

"Jenny, do I have any messages?" asked the brunette in her famous raspy voice.

The secretary jumped out of her seat, frantically trying to clean up the mess on her desk.

"Ms. Davis! I didn't know you were coming home today!"

"Well, I couldn't stay away from California long," she chuckled. Los Angeles, California had been her home for the past six years, and she had loved every single second of it.

"Oh, of course! How was your trip? Was Paris nice?" Jenny eagerly asked, trying to be as chipper as possible through her obvious nervousness.

"Lovely like always…so, my messages?" She definitely didn't have time for small talk with her secretary, especially on the day she arrived back to the country.

"Oh yes! Um…." The red head looked around her chaotic desk, moving Starbucks cups and sticky notes, while the brunette just rolled her eyes. This could take forever. "…here it is! Your mother called. She wanted to know if you were going to attend your father's birthday party. Um…a Ms. Gattina called, says to call her back when you have time. And you have two new offers, one from New York for this month and one from London for next. I put the information on your desk."

"Thanks, Jenny." She started making her way down the hall again but stopped when she reached a door with black handles and turned back around. "Oh, and you might want to take a short break and clean your desk. It's hideous."

And with that, top fashion interior decorator Brooke Davis entered her office.

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"Rachel, I have no clue what you are talking about…"

"Oh shut up, Brooke! You have been like MIA for the past six years ever since you and who-must-not-be-named ended. I don't see why you can't get your overly sized ass back to Tree Hill. He doesn't even live here anymore!"

"Rach, you just don't get it…I can't go back there, and I don't plan to anytime soon. Is that too hard for your slutty head to handle?"

In her plush office chair, sat Brooke Davis, talking, or more like bantering, with her long time friend Rachel Gattina.

"Whatev, I don't care anymore. Just know that you can't hide forever. Just because you write a note and leave doesn't mean that you don't exist anymore. People in Tree Hill read magazines. They know you didn't just drop off the face of the earth."

Brooke rolled her eyes. Why the heck couldn't Rachel just leave it alone? She hadn't been back to Tree Hill since graduation and she wasn't planning to anytime in the future. It held too many memories, memories that Brooke had tried to run away from for the longest time, memories that haunted her like the plague, memories of a man she once loved with every ounce in her body, a man whose name she hadn't uttered since the day she left.

"So, what do you suggest I do? It's not like I can go hop on a plane and take a cruise in the Bahamas."

"Sure you can. I would do it."

"Well, I have something called work…you heard of it?" She could hear Rachel snort on the other side of the phone. "I've been extremely busy lately not to mention that I have two more offers which are both across the country. And I just got back from Paris this morning! So don't bitch at me."

"You overwork yourself…when's the last time you've gone out to a bar, gotten drunk, and gotten laid? Cause FYI, you need to!"

"Mayday, we have a problem, it's called lack of time! It's not actually easy to re-design a whole house, especially since most of my clients are millionaires…" Brooke said sarcastically. "Oh, hey, that reminds me, do you know a Ms. Sharp in New York?"

Rachel's job entitled her to know everybody and anyone in New York, especially the glamorous and elite.

"Hmmm…there's Mackenzie Sharp. She's filthy rich, but a total whore. Georgina Sharp, who spends all her money on her ten ugly ass poodles. Christina Sharp and her daughter Nadia, who's actually engaged to―" But she suddenly stopped talking before she could spill anything else.

"Engaged to whom, Rach?"

"Umm…nobody, just someone I know…its nothing―"

Brooke cut her off this time, her voice turning deep and venomous. "Rach…"

Rachel sighed on the other line. This was a useless battle to fight. "She's engaged to Nathan, Brooke. They are going to get married at the end of the year."

The phone slipped from the young woman's manicured nails, falling to the floor in a clatter. Her breath caught in her throat as she tried so hard to stop the tears from forming in her eyes. Her heart felt like it had been ripped apart in a million pieces over and over again. Why now? Why him? Of all people, it had to be him, the one guy she had fallen in love with, the one guy she never stopped loving. Nathan Scott. She knew he was going to move on, to fall in love again. She wanted him to. But hearing it now, after six years of avoiding ever thinking about it, hurt like hell. It brought back the pain, the memories, and that day she wished she could erase forever…

Regaining composure after a few minutes, she picked up the fallen phone and began speaking again, her voice not as enthused or lively.

"Rach?"

"There you are! I thought you pulled another Brooke and fled from the scene." Ouch. Although, it was meant as a joke, it still shot daggers into Brooke's heart. "So, you okay?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be? I mean it's been six years. He was bound to find someone. The whole point was for him to move on. I've moved on," she assured.

Rachel paused for a second. She couldn't help but doubt her friend's response. "You sure about that, Brooke?"

Was she sure? Did the countless nights of crying, the lack of dating, her not being able to say his name mean anything? Had she moved on?

"Of course, Rach! I'm so over him. I'm actually really happy for both of them. If anyone deserves it, it is definitely him."

As she talked to her friend, Brooke couldn't help but ask herself is she was trying to reassure Rachel or if she was trying to reassure herself. Deep down, she knew it was the latter.

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(Later that night…)

Brooke sat quietly in her first class white plush leather seat, fidgeting with the window opener. She was dressed in a red Juicy Couture dress and matching heels with white sunglasses, trying to disguise herself from the onlookers.

What were the chances that the Sharp that called was Nathan's fiancé? Slim, right? Yeah it had to be…Brooke, it is not Nathan's fiancé! Relax! You will go to New York, do your job and come back home, just like any other offer. Stop being paranoid! It's probably some rich grandma or something…she thought as she pulled the opener up and down and up and down, until a flight attendant's voice interrupted her.

"Miss?"

Brooke looked up and smiled, amidst her internal raging war. "Yes?"

"Are you okay? You seem a bit tensioned. Oh, and here's your water."

A bit tensioned. Ha! That was the understatement of the year.

"Thank you. And yes, I'm fine." She sweetly said, giving the older lady a huge dimpled grin.

"Attention all passengers! Welcome to Delta Airlines! It is our pleasure to have you riding with us today. In seven hours, you will be landing in New York…"

She would have to be fine. There was no turning back now.

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"For me, the most memorable adventures are still the perils that we face daily in life and love, from the mundane to the meaningful. Where the comedy is often at our own expense, but where the drama, even if painful, reminds us that we are living and feeling here in the real time, with the ever-recurring possibility that this latest chapter will end with new understanding, hope and perhaps even happiness." –Rupert Holmes

"Why is it that, as we grow older, we are so reluctant to change? It is not so much that new ideas are painful, for they are not. It is that old ideas are seldom entirely false, but have truth, great truth in them. The justification for conservatism is the desire to preserve the truths and standards of the past; its dangers, of which we are seldom aware, is that in preserving those values, we may miss the infinitely greater riches that lie in the future." –Dale E. Turner

"It's the heart afraid of breaking that never learns to dance. It is the dream afraid of waking that never takes the chance. It is the one who won't be taken who cannot seem to give. And the soul afraid of dying that never learns to live." –Bette Midler

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It was enormous. A magnificent dark brick mansion surrounded by the richest multicolored roses and other blossoming flowers. There was a stone fountain in front of the house, spurting water out in circles, illustrating a privileged but serene vibe. It laid on a sheet of dark green grass, freshly mowed and watered. The concrete driveway curved its way around the grass, leading up to a big black door. A door which a young twenty-four year old woman was standing in front of, contemplating whether or not she should ring the doorbell.

Taking a deep breath, her slender fingers pushed the circular illuminate button. Instantly, a melodious tune filled her ears, and the door was ajar, revealing a mid-age housekeeper.

"May I help you?" the housekeeper asked frostily, curiously eyeing the guest up and down.

The brunette smiled, amidst her jumpy nerves. "Hi, I'm here to see Mrs. Sharp."

"You are…?"

"Brooke Davis. I'm designing a house for her."

Immediately the older lady's demur changed, turning more welcoming and pleasant.

"Oh! Ms. Davis! Come in, come in! Yes, Mrs. Sharp was telling me you were due soon. Please take a seat in the living room. Madame will be down soon. Can I get you something to eat or drink?"

Brooke smirked inwardly. It still humored her how the rich were only nice to the rich, while looking down on those not in the elite.

"A glass of water would be fine. Thank you."

The housekeeper left and brought a glass of water for the brunette, while she looked around the living area. The room was certainly decorated elegantly, eluding to the Victorian age with its layout and designs. All of a sudden, the sound footsteps started filling the air, but Brooke, immersed in the collection of books by the window, did not hear them. She ran her fingers across the spine of a book, as the mystery person stopped a few feet behind her.

"Great collection, huh? My favorite is the original copy of The Great Gatsby on the middle shelf."

Instantaneously, her fingers stopped moving, and her hand dropped by her side. Her face turned into a white sheet as her breath caught in her throat. That voice. She knew that voice. She had heard it on various occasions, for eighteen years to be exact. Slowly, she forced her shoes to turn around, coming face to face with a man she hadn't seen in six years.

His heart stopped as he saw the beauty in front of him. Her long chocolate locks, her slender figure, and those eyes. Those immersing hazel eyes which he had fallen in love with. The eyes he hadn't seen in six years. His own hardened into stones as he realized who was standing right there in his mother-in-law's living room. The one person he had fully given his heart to. The one he had loved so unconditionally. The one who had broken it into a million pieces. The one he now loathed with every ounce of his body.

That couldn't be him. She was just dreaming…just having a long lost nightmare…it was an illusion….a fantasy….a mirage…

"Nathan," she whispered, uttering the one name she had refused to say ever since that day she had left. The one named that had haunted her over the past six years.

It wasn't an illusion.

It wasn't a fantasy.

It wasn't even a mirage.

It was reality.

Then the world started spinning, getting hazier and hazier by the second, until everything turned black. Her limp figure started falling to the ground, only to be caught in the strong hands of the man whom she had been trying to run away from. There was no escaping now.

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She could hear faint noises. None were recognizable, though.

"I always knew Penny was a two faced manipulative bitch!"

"Calm down before you start getting wrinkles. You're only twenty three I may add. Penny wasn't even in the room."

"Maybe she put something in the water…you know I heard on the news that some housekeeper in Oregon was trying to poison all her guests. Oh my gosh! Maybe Penny was trying to kill her and then―"

"Nadia! Stop acting like a recluse. She was probably just faint from the flight. I heard the trip from California to New York is quite a terrible one."

"Maybe…it's a good thing Nathan was there to help her."

Nathan. Nathan Scott. Nathan Royal Scott. Everything started coming back to Brooke as she laid there on one of the Sharp's fancy beds. Where she was, why she had come, who she had last seen…looking at the situation now, she had two choices. She could either A) wait for the Sharps to leave the room and then sneak out, never coming back. Or she could B) face reality head on and open her eyes right then, confronting both the Sharps and Mr. Scott himself. As much as she wanted to choose the first, though, she had to decide on the latter. She was never a quitter, and when it came to her job, she always went through with every client, even if one was the devil himself. Or her ex-lover.

Slowly, she fluttered her eyelids up and down, until her eyes were open and her vision was clear.

"Thanks God, you're awake!" The cry came from a dark brownish-reddish haired beauty, who Brooke assumed was Nadia. The lady sitting on the other side of the bed with the perfectly permed honey hair must be her mother then.

"Hi," Brooke said as she started to sit upright.

"This definitely isn't how I wanted us to meet, but it is so nice to meet you! I'm Nadia and this," she said motioning to the older woman on her left, "is my mother. Are you okay?"

Brooke had to laugh. Despite the fact that she was Nathan's fiancée, Brooke was starting to like the girl. There was something about the way she talked that put her to ease. No wonder Nathan had fallen in love with her.

"Yes, I am perfectly fine. I think the flight was a bit exhausting."

"See, Nadia!" Her mother shook her head and she directed her attention now to Brooke. "She started on this absurd story of how our housekeeper was trying to poison you…my dearest apologizes, Ms. Davis, if you were uncomfortable with Penny."

"Oh, of course not! Penny was an angel. Like I said, it was the flight. And please, call me Brooke." Brooke flashed a dimpled smiled in both of their directions, reassuring them that she was okay now.

All of a sudden, Nadia jumped up from her sitting position. "Oh my gosh! I totally forgot to introduce you to my fiancé. Nathan, come here!"

The jumble of nerves which had died a second ago seemed to reappear. Her breathing became more rapid, and for a second, she thought she was going to pass out again. What was she going to say? How was he going to act? Were they going to hide the fact that they went to high school together? That they were once the most in love couple ever?

Her questions were answered as he appeared at the door, his face showing no signs of emotion. None at all.

"Nate, I wanted you to meet Brooke Davis. Brooke, this is Nathan Scott, my fiancé. She's that decorator I was telling you about who's going to do our house. Isn't that amazing?!" Nadia's bubbly voice echoed throughout the room, oblivious to the tension between the other two individuals beside her.

"Yeah, amazing," he managed to let out. Staring at the woman before him just brought back all the pain that he had tried to shut out. "It's nice to meet you Ms. Davis."

His voice was cold. Void of feeling. Every word shooting knives into a certain girl's heart. How could he be so calm when all she wanted to do was scream and run away?

"You, too, Mr. Scott," she replied instead, very politely.

"Well, why don't you two talk and Nate can tell you all about what we want. I have to attend a garden party with Mother." Nadia waved and left the room before a protest could be heard. This was the last thing either of them wanted.

They stood there in her room, enveloped by an awkward silence. Suddenly, Brooke started making her way to the door. She couldn't do this. She couldn't take it anymore. But before she could step outside, a voice stopped her.

"Why?" That one question held so much emotion. Anger, hurt, betrayal, misery, detestation.

She slowly turned to face him, mirroring a moment from earlier that day.

"What?" she whispered.

"Why? Why did you leave? Why, Brooke?"

She was lost of words. How could she tell Nathan why? How could she explain? How would he be able to get it if she herself didn't even understand why she had really left?

Instead of speaking, she decided on silence, which further prodded his anger until he couldn't take it anymore.

"Why, Brooke? Why? Why did you just disappear? I loved you! I fucking loved you! Didn't that mean anything to you?! I was going to fucking propose to you! I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you! You were my world. You were the one. But you just left! What was I not good enough for you? Did you even love me?!?" With every word that left his mouth, the volume kept on increasing until he was practically screaming in her face.

"Of course I loved you, Nathan!" She couldn't stand there anymore, letting him talk and thinking that she had never loved him. Of course she had loved him. She still did. That was the one thing she had always been sure of.

He laughed cynically. "You loved me, huh? Then why did you leave, Brooke? Huh? No answer, right? I'm not surprised," he shook his head, glaring at her, his eyes so cold and hateful. "You left a damn note, Brooke! Do you know long I spent rereading that thing? Two years. Two fucking years! Do you know how much I needed you that summer? When my mom died, when Lucas was in the hospital, when life crashed and burned? I loved you so much…How could you do that? How could you just leave me with a note and seriously expect me to be okay with you vanishing from my life? You're fucking insane."

He gave her one last glare before storming past her, towards the open door, needing to get out before the brunt of his anger got to the best of him. He stopped before the entrance and turned back to look at his ex-lover once again.

"I want to make one thing clear. I don't want to see you, and I definitely don't want to talk to you. You can decorate the damn house for Nadia's sake, but after that, I could care less if I ever saw you again. I won't ever forgive you, Brooke, for what you did. And just for the record, you're dead to me."

And with that, Nathan trudged out of the room, slamming the door closed on his way. As his figure disappeared from sight, a tear escaped and traveled down Brooke's cheek. That one tear started turning into a stream, then a river, and finally an ocean of emotion, pain, and guilt. Her fragile body slid down the wall as she cried her heart out over the raven-haired boy from her past.

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The sky was dark, a big blanket of serenity and peace. But on that one night, Nathan Scott just wasn't feeling it. He stood outside on the balcony, staring up into the heavens. Why? Why was all this happening to him? Why was he always the one who got his heart broken over and over again? Why? All he wanted was an answer. A simple answer. He closed his eyes and that morning kept on playing inside his head, over and over again like an old movie…

Flashback

They had had one heck of a night. Full of passion and lust and most importantly love. He had woken up, expecting her to be sleeping soundly beside him. Instead, he was met with a pink note, sprayed with her signature perfume.

Dear Nathan,

When you finally read this, I will probably be on a plane out of Tree Hill. I needed to get out. I'm not coming back. Ever. This is for the best…please go and follow your dreams. Go to the NBA and find someone who you can spend the rest of your life with. As much as I wanted to be, I am not that girl. And I never will be. I am so sorry, Nate, for everything. I love you so much, Nathan Royal Scott, and I probably always will. Just remember that…that I love you.

Love,

Brooke

He had crumpled that note and threw it into a trashcan, not believing it, but after one minute, it was in his hands again, and he was rereading those words over and over until he could practically recite them. He had made over a thousand phone calls that day. He had never found her.

End of Flashback

Nathan closed his eyes, trying to block out the past memories as they came flooding back. A tear managed to break away from his locked up box of emotions as it slowly traveled down his cheek, falling gently on the balcony railing. She was really back. He had finally found her.

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