"Do you believe in fate?"

She adjusted herself on the plush velvet chair, tucking her endless legs underneath her casually. She pushed away a tendril of hair from her face, hiding it behind her ear. The feeling in the pit of her stomach was nauseating, like she'd just gotten off a storm ridden boat.

The question lingered in the air, still; a sticky sweet humidity floating above their heads. All she needed to do was answer, and it would make the situation a little less suffocating. But, an answer would also leave space for more questions.

Why was she here?

"I don't really know," she replied honestly.

Fate (n): the supposed force, principle, or power that predetermines events.

Did she believe in fate?

In times like this, when she found herself in a local café in the middle of New York City with the blonde boy who she had let go of long ago, she believed in fate.

But, if this was fate, why was she sitting on the plush velvet chair years later, apprehensively caressing the diamond ring that lay on her finger?

She pulled it off discreetly, its presence suddenly weighing down her hand. She slipped it into the bag that sat next to her, squeezed between her thigh and the arm of the velvety chair.

Keeping her eyes focused on her hands, she nervously picked at her French manicure as Lucas observed her.

"You're different."

Of course she was. It had been five years, and she had a fiancé sitting at home wondering where she was.

The message came two days earlier. She had come home from a photo shoot for Vogue. Her couture line, Missile, had an entire spread devoted to its creation and designer in the upcoming issue. There was even an article about Brooke that was mentioned on the cover. She had been content.

She walked into their lavish apartment, flushed from the November air that had been licking her face all day. All she wanted to do was curl up in bed with her favorite book, (The Winter of Our Discontent by John Steinbeck) and wait for her fiancé to come home.

As she reached for the novel on her desk, she noticed the usual flickering of her message machine. But for some bizarre reason, the light beckoned her today.

Normally, she would've let the flickering continue for an hour or so as she got settled into being home. She would normally trade her pencil skirt and blouse for a pair of old jeans and a t-shirt, but today the flickering light beckoned her.

So, with a quick push of the flickering light, she found out that she had been chosen as "Designer of the Month" in InStyle, and that Adrian was going to her beach house this weekend, did she want to come? She heard Adam's sweet voice saying how he'd be home a little late, not to worry, and she listened as he said I love you in an overly-sugary manner.

But she hadn't expected to hear his voice.

She knew it was him the way he said her name.

Brooke.

Her heart melted at the sound.

It's Lucas.

Her Lucas.

Lucas Scott.

How could he think she had forgotten him?

I'm in New York.

I know it's been awhile…

Pause

but I thought you'd want to meet me for coffee, or something.

Your choice, since you know this place better than me.

Call me back?

(663)-873-3445.

Hopefully I'll be seeing you.

She found herself picking up the phone. She found herself dialing his number. She found herself holding her breath, waiting for him to answer. She found herself frozen, the phone pressed to her ear, as if she was listening to Peyton whispering a secret. Peyton.

She found herself blushing as he answered the phone. She found herself comfortably saying, "Hi, it's me," even after all this time. She found herself standing in awe as he immediately knew who it was.

She found herself giving him the address of her favorite café since Karen's.

She found herself grinning from ear to ear as he promised to meet her there in two days.

She found herself giddy as she hung up the phone.

But, now that she was here, the velvet tickling her legs, she wasn't exactly sure why she had even called him back.

She looked up at him, her gold speckled eyes aligning with his piercing blue ones for the first time since they had gotten there.

"I know. So have you," she replied with a small smile.

"So, you don't think fate has anything to do with the fact that we haven't seen each other in five years, and the first time I visit New York in all that time, I'm staying a block away from your apartment?"

"No, I don't," she lied, turning her eyes to the adjacent table.

Times like this, she believed in fate.

Although she didn't realize, he could easily see past her façade. He knew her every move. When she didn't make eye contact, she was lying, or she was nervous. Nervousness was a rare thing for Brooke Davis, since she normally oozed confidence. But Lucas knew tinier things about her, too.

Like how she pouted when she wanted something. Like how her eyes lit up when he made a basket in an important game. Like how she scrunched her nose, forming tiny ripples along the bridge of it, when she was thinking. Like how she would kiss his nose when she thought he had fallen asleep before her. Like how she loved the rain because good things always happened to her during storms. Like how she had a tattoo on her hipbone of a Chinese symbol. Like how she loved when he traced it as they laid in bed just talking.

He knew it all. He remembered it all.

"How's your life, Brooke?"

What she wanted to say was, "Incomplete since we broke up," but what came out was, "Great."

He smiled at the answer, not because he was happy to hear that her life was good, but because he knew she was missing something, and that something was him.

"How's yours?"

Lucas was willing to give more than a cryptic answer.

There was so much she had missed since leaving Tree Hill all those years ago, and he was determined to make her miss her old life.

"Well, my mom and Lily are great. Lily's five now, can you believe it? James is growing up so fast, too. He loves basketball, and on Sundays, the three of us go to the park. Lily spends time on the swing set or sitting and playing with daffodils, but me and James play basketball. He's definitely Nathan's child. His room is navy and Carolina blue, for the Tar Heels. Haley's great. She and Nathan have been talking about having more kids lately. Rachel and Mouth have been spending every waking minute together that they can, but they still won't commit. I think its Rachel who's scared. Peyton and I broke up about a month after graduation. Jake came back, with Jenny, and Peyton finally realized what I think I knew all along: we just weren't meant to be."

The whole thing stung Brooke, like a round of bullets targeted at her heart. But the last one burned her, searing flames on her heart. It reopened wounds of her past that she promised herself never to reopen.

"That all sounds amazing Lucas," she said sincerely. "But I asked how your life was."

He was taken aback at her seriousness.

What he wanted to say was, "Incomplete since we broke up," but what came out was, "Great."