Note: This is a story about regaining things that you'd thought forever lost. It's about doing what's right for you and your family, and finding the strength within to face all the trials and hurts of life. It's an AU as of season three story that features Nathan and Haley finding their way back to one another post-college.

Approaching Normal

Prologue – The End, My Friend

We can work it out, except when we can't.

"Nathan!" I called out, hurrying to catch up to him. "Wait up a second!"

He stopped slowly, reluctance written clearly in the tense hold of his shoulders. It took a few seconds longer before he turned to face me, and my heart crumbled a bit more in those painfully naked seconds. "Why? There's nothing to say now, Haley. There's nothing between us, and nothing to say about it."

I blinked at him, pathetically owlish as I stared, unable to comprehend. "But Nathan, we're married, and we have to talk! That's the only way to make things work!"

"It can't work," he said softly. "It won't work for me. This isn't what I want anymore, this marriage. This isn't where I think I should be now, or where I think you should be now. This isn't right."

I gaped silently at him, having no comeback for that. What did you say when someone told you he didn't want you in his life anymore, period? Apparently nothing; you just made the fishface at him. It's just that we've had this conversation so many times now that I didn't know if there was much fight left in me now. Maybe he was right; maybe there wasn't anything left to say or do.

"Say something," he commanded harshly. "Come on, aren't you going to beg me again? Get down on your hands and knees for me? Tell me that it'll be different, better? Say something, Hales!"

I shook my head, taking a deep breath, thinking of all that'd transpired between us. All of my wrongs, and yes, all of his. "I – I don't think that there is anything left to say, Nathan. You've made it painfully clear how you want things, and you've made it even clearer that means that there is nothing I can say."

"I'm not trying to hurt you," he insisted, a little softer this time. "I really don't want that."

Too late, I almost retorted, but I didn't. That wouldn't be fair, all things considered. At the end of the day, I'm still the one who left first, and that apparently counted for everything. It didn't matter who left subsequently, or who cheated and who didn't – it only mattered that I dared to leave. And fine, I can live with that. I hoped. It was not like I'd have a choice now.

"I'm sorry that this is ending in this manner," I said simply. "I love you, Nathan. More than I'll ever love anyone." He opens his mouth to protest, but I keep going. "I love you enough to let you go, if that's what you need."

He blinked in surprise, his mouth dropping open in the barest hint of surprise. "You aren't going to fight with me about this?" he asked, clearly not even trusting that I could do even this right.

"Not anymore," I shrugged, trying to hide the hurt, the devastation, the excruciating break of my heart.

He was clearly nonplussed, and as I opened my mouth to tell him I've changed my mind, that I will fight, forever, he nodded with a finality that shatters me. "That's good, it'll make it easier that way."

Choking back a sob, I nodded, trying to keep a brave face on. The last thing I needed right now was for him to see me break down. "Good luck, Nathan Scott," I whispered, biting my lower lip. "I hope you get everything you ever wanted. You deserve that."

"You too, Haley James," he nodded, managing a small smile. "You – whatever good I do, it'll be because of you. I hope you know that, know how much that will mean to me."

I didn't, not anymore, but I nod as if I did, holding my hand out to him. He took it in his, surprising me by using it to pull me to him. As I wrapped my arms around him, I let the tears flow, pouring out a tiny fraction of the grief and loss this was causing in me.

My husband was leaving Tree Hill to spend his last year of high school at a private school in Raleigh that featured an elite basketball program. And he wanted to leave as a single man.

"Maybe someday," he whispered over his shoulder as he went.

"No," I disagreed, knowing that he didn't mean it. Not even believing it myself. "We had our chance, but we blew it." He didn't contradict that, didn't offer up someday as a tantalizing promise of hope again.

Because someday was a pipe dream, a promise not intended to be kept. Another cheap way out.

I knew better than to believe in 'someday'.

But I still couldn't deny him his way out. I never could deny him much of anything.