A/N: I'm constantly blown away by your feedback! A lot of you have already said that you're sure that this is going to be a tearjerker, but that's it's going to be good, which is totally sweet of you, and I hope I can live up to your expectations. I'm excited about it, I must admit, so that's why I've stolen some hours away from my scheduled study time to provide you with an update! It might be a little longer before the next one, though, I've got to warn you. I'd love it if you'd take the time to review – getting your input always makes my day. :)

Oh, and Happy OTH Day!

Chapter Two

I have set before thee life and death,

the blessing and the curse.

Therefore choose life.

-- Deuteronomy 30:19

The next morning, Peyton woke up in Brooke's bed, still wearing her jeans and t-shirt from the day before, one of her legs tucked under a blanket. Two abandoned wine glasses sat on the floor next to an empty bottle of pricey wine, and the movie channel was still playing quietly on the television. Brooke was lost in dreamland, her pace partially burrowed into her pillow. She still slept like she had when they were little kids, limbs everywhere, snoring, and it made Peyton's dry lips curve into a lazy smile as she threw all the blankets over her friend's body before she gingerly got up and headed into her own room.

She dug through her purse for the four pills she'd been instructed to take each day, which were tucked into the pocket of her bag next to a piece of paper, upon which was written the name and phone number of the oncologist who'd agreed to take her on as a patient. She still hadn't made up her mind as to whether or not she was going to call him.

She wandered into the kitchen, poured herself a glass of water, and took her medication. She walked through the house as she finished off her drink, smiling at the pictures of grinning Jamie Scott wrapped up in his godmother's arms that adorned the wall. Pausing in front of a mirror, she grimaced at the sight of her own reflection. She looked kind of awful. Nathan had been right, she was really thin, and the dark circles under her eyes seemed to grow deeper each day. The past week of uncertainty and physical torment had taken its toll. She was determined to look better now, because she was determined to feel better now.

Back in her room, she shed yesterday's clothes and pulled on a dark red dress, throwing on a lightweight grey sweater to hide the bruises on her arms. She put on enough makeup to disguise her tiredness and brushed her hair, leaving it down so that her curls tumbled onto her shoulders. Anxious to do something productive rather than just sitting around wasting time, she decided to make Brooke breakfast.

She found some pancake mix in one of the cupboards and got to work. She cut up some melon and peeled some oranges, getting more and more into her task. When she saw that there were both strawberries and bananas, she knew immediately that she wanted to make smoothies. She put all the necessary ingredients into the blender and turned it on, smiling to herself as she looked around the bright, airy room. Back here, back at home, she felt totally safe and almost successful and close to happy, and that was all she could have asked for.

Less than a minute after she thought she might be happy here for the next few months, for the rest of her life, the blender exploded behind her. Gasping, she spun around and groped for the button to make the flying, fruity mess and the high-pitched whirring sound stop. Half-mixed strawberry banana smoothie was on every surface of the kitchen, coating every surface with pale pink, small, icy chunks. The sight of the mess made tears spring to her eyes, but she knew deep down that she was crying for bigger reasons than a broken blender.

"Damn it," she muttered, flinging the plastic lid of the blender across the room. This was exactly how she didn't want things to be, crying over kitchen machinery.

"I don't know what went wrong here…but I'm pretty sure it's not worth a pretty girl crying over," a male voice commented, teasing but somehow gentle.

She whirled around, ready with a retort, but the words died on her tongue when he shot her a grin. She relaxed, brushing her hair out of her face and planting her hands on her hips. "You must be Julian."

"And you must be Peyton Sawyer," he returned.

She nodded and eyed him over. "So you're the boyfriend."

"So you're the best friend," he mimicked her, not unkindly.

"You know, flirting with me upon first meeting doesn't exactly get you a lot of points," she informed him.

His grin only widened. "Guess that tactic's gone."

Peyton studied him for a moment. "She seems to really like you," she finally stated, testing him.

Nodding seriously, he replied, "Well, good, 'cause I really like her, too."

"She doesn't always have the best luck with guys."

He chuckled to himself. "It's gonna take you a while to like me, huh?"

She arched one eyebrow and nodded.

"Well…how about I help you clean up?"

Peyton tossed him a cloth. "Are you expecting me to immediately warm up to you because you're charming and you offer to help rather than being asked?"

Julian smirked cheekily as he sopped up some of the mess with his cloth. "Will you?"

She could feel her eyes softening as she regarded him. "Maybe just a little bit," she admitted grudgingly, turning his back to him as she reached for a roll of paper towels.

Between the two of them, it didn't take long for the kitchen to look normal again. Julian gathered the pieces of the blender up and put them into a garbage bag while she finished wiping down the counters.

"Good as new," he announced as he dried his hands.

"Thanks for your help," Peyton said earnestly, biting her lower lip. "Um, Julian, I know this might sound weird, and I know we just met, but, um…could you…"

"Not tell Brooke about this?" he supplied, sensing that it might take her a while to get the question out.

She sighed. "Yeah."

Julian nodded slowly, studying her face, well aware that there was a deeper reason behind the crying she'd been doing when he walked in. "Okay. Sure, no problem."

Brooke stepped out of her bedroom that moment as if on cue with a red bathrobe over the clothes she'd fallen asleep in, carrying both wine glasses. "P. Sawyer, I am never going to get the wrinkles out of this shirt," she whined as she inspected the silky blouse she was wearing. "I can't believe you let me fall asleep like this!"

"Sorry," Peyton said, laughing lightly. "B., look who's here."

The brunette's entire face lit up when she saw her boyfriend, and she kissed him immediately, arms twined around his neck even though she still held the wine glasses. "Hey!" she said happily.

"Hey," Julian returned, awarding her a private grin that made her blush.

"I see you've met my best friend in the whole wide world," Brooke added as she released him and walked over to set the glasses in the sink. She wrapped an arm around Peyton. "Almost as pretty as me, huh?"

Julian winked at Peyton. "Almost."

Brooke gave him an adoring look. "What brings you buy so early?"

He shrugged. "Just thought I could make you girls breakfast."

Peyton watched as her best friend melted, walking back over to Julian and tucking herself in his arms. Something panged within her chest, and she felt the usual overwhelming mixture of emotions she always felt when reminded of her broken heart, guilt and regret and yearning and love and anger and sadness and a powerful kind of wishful thinking. She sighed.

"Hey, listen," she began. "I made breakfast already, but why don't you two just eat it? I'm not that hungry anyway, and I kind of want to visit casa Naley."

"You sure?" Brooke asked, frowning worriedly.

"Yeah." Peyton grabbed her purse and gave Brooke's elbow a squeeze. "I'll be back soon. Nice to meet you, Julian," she added over her shoulder.

"You, too," he called after her.

The moment the door closed he turned his attention to Brooke. "Does she hate me?"

"What? No," she laughed.

"She just…she seems sad."

His girlfriend smiled wryly. "Peyton has never been that great at the whole happiness thing. But she'll be okay. I think she just needs to find what she's looking for."

"And what's that?"

Her smile widened as she leaned into him, letting their noses brush. "Something kinda like how you make me feel."

"Something like that?" he asked with a small grin of his own.

"Something a lot like this," she confirmed, and kissed him soundly.

xxx

The sight that greeted Peyton when she walked through Nathan and Haley's door was not the one she'd been expecting. Instead of finding the family gathered around the breakfast table or lounging on the couch in front of Saturday morning cartoons, Haley and Jamie were in the hallway by the kitchen with music playing at its loudest volume, energetically and laughingly doing the Soulja Boy dance to Crank Dat. It made Peyton laugh as she leaned against the wall. Haley looked great, her hair in dark waves and her eyes bright, and Jamie was so much bigger than Peyton remembered him, full of energy and enthusiasm and totally cute.

"Hey, you dancing fools!" she called over the music. Haley whirled around at the sound of her voice and Peyton grinned. "Nice moves, Haley James."

Planting her hands on her hips, Haley allowed a playful smile to light up her face as she said sternly, "That's Haley James Scott to you, missy."

"Ever so sorry," Peyton replied dramatically, opening her arms.

Haley rushed over to her, arms outstretched. Peyton could feel the other woman's smile as they hugged. "Hey, foxy," she said.

"Hey, Blondie," Haley returned sweetly pulling back to look at her. "God, it's good to see you again! I can't believe you didn't tell me you were coming home!"

"It was…kind of a…snap decision."

"Well, it was a good one. We've missed you."

Peyton nodded. "I've missed you guys, too." Her eyes drifted over to Jamie. "Haley, wow, he's…"

Haley smiled in gentle understanding. "Jamie! Hey, bud, turn that down and come over here and say hi."

He did as told and rushed over, skidding to a stop next to where his mother stood. "Hi," he said simply.

"Baby," Haley said, her fingers slipping into his hair, "this is your Aunt Peyton."

"Hey, kiddo," Peyton greeted him, crouching down so that they were eye level. "I bet you don't remember me, huh?"

He shook his head.

"That's okay. You are much more grown up than you were the last time I saw you. How old are you, eight?"

He beamed, laughing, "I'm four."

"Four?" Her eyes widened. "Wow, I would've thought you were older."

"Wanna see me play basketball?" he offered happily.

"Sounds great."

"Cool! Momma, can we go outside?"

Haley smiled fondly at him. "You go ahead, little man, but be careful, okay? We'll be out in a second."

"Okay!" He was out the door before the last syllable had left his lips.

Peyton straightened up and shook her head, watching him run off. "He's got some serious energy. Definitely Nate's kid."

"Tell me about it," Haley laughed, walking into the kitchen and indicating that Peyton should follow. She opened the fridge and pulled out a pitcher of lemonade. "So, you have to tell me all about life in L.A.! I feel like we never talk anymore."

"Life in L.A.…" Peyton laughed. "Honestly, it kinda sucked. I'm really glad to be home."

"We're glad to have you home."

Peyton took a plate of cookies from Haley and followed her friend outdoors. "So, uh, you let your four-year-old listen to Soulja Boy?" she asked sceptically.

"Don't get me started," Haley groaned. "You know Nathan's coaching the Ravens, right? Well, Jamie absolutely adores the boys on that team, and they got him into it. And I figured…if you can't beat 'em, join 'em, right? Besides, it'll be…what, another fifteen years? At least that long, before he understands the lyrics."

"More like ten years," Peyton told her apologetically.

Haley winced, "Ah, I can't hear that! He's my baby, you know? It's hard to think of him growing up. I mean, I was married at sixteen, and that's twelve years away for him."

"Hales…" Peyton placed her hand over her friend's as they sat down in two lounge chairs. "Normal kids don't get married at sixteen. I wouldn't worry too much."

"Ha ha," Haley replied dryly.

"Momma!" Jamie bellowed. "Aunt Peyton! Did you see me dunk!?"

"Yeah, buddy, way to go!" Haley called back, smiling widely.

Peyton studied her friend, a smile playing on her lips. "You look happy," she said softly.

Haley turned to look at her. "Yeah, I…I really am. Do you ever want this?" she inquired impulsively, gesturing toward Jamie.

Her breath caught in her throat and she was left momentarily speechless. "I…" she finally managed to choke out.

Wincing on her behalf, Haley said quietly, "Hey, I'm sorry. Touchy subject, right? I wasn't thinking."

"No, it's okay," Peyton said hurriedly the moment she found her voice. "I just…of course I want that."

Haley locked eyes with her. "Hey. You'll get it," she promised. "One day, someday, I know you will. Look at Jamie, he adores you already. You're gonna be a great mom. I know it."

"Yeah…" Peyton breathed, looking away. She swallowed hard and reminded herself not to cry as she artfully switched topics. "So, listen, I kind of came here with an ulterior motive."

"Uh-oh." Haley said, looking intrigued as she propped her elbow on the arm of her chair, turning her body toward Peyton and resting her chin in her hand. "I'm listening."

She took a deep breath and scrunched up her face in nervous anticipation. "I want to make your next record."

Haley's brow furrowed and she laughed. "What?"

"I want to make your next record," Peyton repeated, allowing herself a small smile.

"Are you crazy?" Haley half-laughed.

"No, I'm totally serious. Haley, come on!" she cried when her friend shook her head. "I know you have it in you. I know it."

"Peyton…I mean, God, thanks for believing in me, hon, but…I don't know. I've got my kids at school and Jamie and Nathan and I really have to work to get time to ourselves…I just don't know if this is the right time."

"Haley, look at you. You've got this great guy and you're beautiful boy, a job that you love, this kickass house…now is the time to take a risk and try something for yourself."

"I don't know if I can do it," she confessed, shrugging.

"You can, and I can help you. I've still got contacts in L.A., and while it's not going to be the world's easiest thing, I know I can get this to work." She sighed, looking at Haley encouragingly. "C'mon. Please let me help you do this."

Haley sighed, running her index finger over the rim of her empty glass. "You really want this?"

"I really, really do," Peyton stressed. "It'd be my first real accomplishment in life," she added, only half-joking.

"Don't say that," Haley berated her seriously, switching her tone as she teased, "I mean, who can brag about being a regular artist for Thud?"

"Shut up," Peyton laughed, swatting at Haley lazily across the distance between their chairs. "So…what do you say?"

Haley heaved a dramatic sigh. Throwing her head back, she conceded, "Fine."

"Yes!" Peyton cheered.

"I'm doing it for you," Haley insisted seriously, but her frown quickly flipped itself around. "And maybe…a little bit for me."

"Sounds perfect," Peyton said happily, relaxing as she sat back in her chair.

"So…" Haley grinned wickedly, eager to gossip. "Did you meet Julian yet?"

xxx

"Hey, Luke," Haley greeted her best friend cheerfully, walking through his front door without preamble. She spotted his editor and smiled as she added, "Hey, Linds."

"Hey, Haley," the other woman said warmly. "How's your family?"

"We're all great, thanks." She flopped onto Lucas' bed, just a couple feet from where the two of them sat in front of his computer. "How goes the book business?"

Lindsey cast Lucas and playfully annoyed look. "Well, I had to come all the way to Tree Hill because someone's being stubborn."

"Ah," Haley said sagely, grinning conspiratorially. "Someone has always been like that."

"Okay." Lucas threw down the pen he was holding and sat back in his chair, frowning at them both. "Someone is sitting right here."

Both women laughed and Lindsey stood up, gathering her things as she glanced at her watch. "Look, Luke, I've got to get back to New York…will you just think about what we've talked about today? That's all I can ask of you, I guess."

He grinned cheekily. "I promise to think about it."

Lindsey rolled her eyes. "You drive me crazy," she said through gritted teeth, leaning down to hug him. "I'm going to go call a cab."

"Next time you're in town, tell me so we can have lunch!" Haley called after her. The moment she knew that Lindsey was out of earshot, she sat up a bit more and said seriously, "So, Luke."

"So, Hales," he mocked her.

She frowned at him, telling him softly, "She's home. And I know that you know that."

He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Okay, so she's home. I don't have to do anything about it."

"Yes, you do."

"Why?" he shot back at her, raising his eyebrows, challenging her.

"Because, you idiot," Haley said fondly, "we all know that you want to."

Lucas looked at her for a long moment. "Have you seen her?" he asked softly, something vulnerable in his words.

Haley nodded. "Still the same Peyton."

He blew out his breath and rubbed the back of his neck nervously, muttering, "I was afraid of that."

"I know that she'd love to see you." Lucas didn't reply to that, so Haley tried a different approach. "She quit her job, in L.A., when she moved here…but she told me today that she still has the resources to make another record, and she wants…to make mine."

That got a reaction. "Hales, wow, that's amazing! You have to do it. You're going to do it, right?"

"Maybe," she said evenly, daring him in the way she arched her eyebrows.

It took a moment for realization to set in, but when it did, he shook his head adamantly. "Oh, no. No, no, no."

"Yes," Haley replied sweetly, tilting her head to one side. "Yes, yes…yes."

"You're actually going to make me responsible for keeping Haley James Scott's second record from ever being produced?" he asked sceptically.

"Watch me," she said simply as she hopped off the bed. "But you know, you can fix this very easily."

He frowned at her as she approached him for a hug. "You're serious? You want me to talk to her that badly?"

She winked at him as she pulled back from their embrace, looking his straight in the eye as she said, "We'll start with talking." She grinned at him just before she stepped out of the door. "You'll thank me for this one day. I promise." She shook her head at him, her smile softening as she spoke fondly. "Lucas, I love you, but one of these days you're going to have to stop hiding your heart. And…if blackmail's what's going to do it…then blackmail it is." She hurried out the door, leaving him alone to think over her parting words.

xxx

Peyton knew where she was going, but she wasn't quite prepared to admit it to herself. She let herself think that she was just going for a walk, wandering through the streets of her hometown, getting reacquainted.

And when she came to a stop across the street from Lucas Scott's house, she allowed herself to pretend that she was surprised to have ended up there.

She didn't really plan on demanding anything from him. Her mind had made a decision and intended to stick to it. She hadn't come home for Lucas. It wasn't really fair to either of them, for her to fight for them right now. But her heart had always demanded something from Lucas Scott, and she knew that that fact still remained true as she stood across the street and watched as he walked out of his house with his arm wrapped around another woman.

She was frozen, a broken statue, as she watched a cab pull up. She watched as Lucas put the woman's bag in the trunk, wrapped her up in one of those Lucas Scott hugs to which no other feeling could compare, and she watched as the woman kissed his cheek, smiling at him before she got into the car and drove off to what was, without doubt, a fabulous and impressive destination. She had the distinct feeling of having her heart caught halfway between its intended location and her throat, and it was making it difficult to both swallow and breathe. She wondered why Brooke and Haley, in all their hints toward Lucas, had failed to mention this beautiful girl in his company.

The cab pulled away, and she was still there, stuck in place, and he was still there on the other side of the road, shock clear in his eyes as blue clashed with green and she felt sparks fly.

For a minute she just looked at him. She'd missed him, and he looked familiar and changed all it once. He looked good, in a sweater and beat-up jeans and bare feet on the sidewalk, and she wondered if she looked good at all, bony limbs and hidden bruised wrists and tired eyes.

After a long silence during which they simply regarded each other, he said: "Hi."

He spoke so quietly that she wasn't exactly sure how she'd managed to pick up the sound all the way across the street. Maybe she'd just imagined, maybe she'd just wanted to hear it badly enough, but whatever it was, it broke down the barriers. She didn't even look both ways before she crossed the street, walking more swiftly and surely than she felt she should have been able to.

"Hi," she breathed in reply when she was finally standing in front of him.

"Hi," he repeated. His eyes were dancing, twinkling and sparkling with emotion. She might have caught the faintest hint of love and want and memory, combined together to form I missed you, but it might just have been a reflection from her own green orbs.

"Hi," she said stupidly, and then she laughed at herself. He laughed, too, a low chuckle at the back of his throat, and her whole body ached as it occurred to her that she only had a certain amount of time left to appreciate that perfect laugh.

"We should say something else, huh?" he asked nervously, giving her a half-smile.

"I don't know what," she admitted quietly, truthfully. Her mind was racing, converging on the thought that if she just reached between them right now, her fingertips would touch his.

"I…you…" Lucas sighed as if he was annoying himself. "You…you're home," he finally said.

She couldn't resist any longer. She reached out, tucking her arms under his, and hugged him. It wasn't a stupid thing to do, it wasn't. They could hug. They'd been friends once and they had the potential to be friends again; a hug made sense. It wasn't unheard of to hug an ex-lover. It wasn't ridiculous to want to hug the boy, the man, you'd once wanted forever with.

There was a beat, just long enough for her to doubt herself, and then he wrapped his arms around her fiercely, like he never intended to let go, his face buried into her neck.

Peyton sighed, inhaling his familiar smell. When she moved her lips to talk, they brushed against the fabric of his sweater. "Yeah," she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut, "I'm home."