Author's Note – Hey there guys. I am sorry for the delay in posting this. I know I'm slow at updating. This chapter was a hard one to write. I've written some difficult stuff before but this one was very tricky for me. So that's the reason why it's taken so long. I wanted to do it justice so I'm sorry for the lateness but that is why.
Thanks to everyone who reads this story and to all you wonderful reviewers out there. You always make me smile.
You Can't Put Your Arms Around A Memory
Chapter 9 – Come What May
It has been said that the most perfect form of love is found in the act of sacrifice. When you love so dearly and so unconditionally that in spite of what your heart might cry out for what it wants you see past this. You see past your own desires enough to simply want everything that is good for the one you love.
Love is not wanting someone, not really. It is simply wanting what is best for them. Whether it is for a man, a woman or a child. A true, pure and untouched act of love comes from doing everything in your power to ensure the one you love is happy even if it is at your own expense.
x-x-x
Peyton lay propped up by pillows in her hospital bed in the maternity ward. Her body was achingly sore after her long and painful labour and she was completely exhausted. She should have been sleeping now but she felt more awake and alert than ever before. Her eyes kept trailing down at the profile of her precious baby that she held so carefully in her arms.
Isabelle Sawyer Scott was born two months premature on this chilly autumn day. The tiny life marked the overwhelming sense of contentment that swelled within Peyton's heart. This perfect innocence was a life that she herself had created and as the young mother watched over her sleeping daughter she felt utterly awestruck.
Peyton watched the newborn baby with wonderment and adoration. She counted the ten perfectly minuscule fingers and toes. Her gaze traced across Isabelle's perfect button nose, her golden flecked lashes, and the delicate eye lids that were pressed lightly shut. Peyton wished she could freeze this moment in all of its purity and preserve it in her memory for eternity. Her mind kept flitting from complete euphoria to complete despair. What should have been the most wonderful day of Peyton's life was tarnished with the knowledge that it could not last. That the completeness she felt was all about to end all too quickly. She felt the sacred bond between mother and child; she had done as soon the crying infant had been placed in her arms. But she had made the decision to give Isabelle the best possible start in life.
During Peyton's fourth month of pregnancy she had begun to feel tired. Really tired. She had felt tired for so long that she couldn't accurately point to the moment when she realised something wasn't right. She had told herself it was her hormones, her guilt and her confusion over the idea of being a single mother. That these stresses, combined with working and being pregnant were draining her both physically and mentally. She had thought that if she rested more it would pass. But no matter how much she rested and slept she was always tired. Properly bone tired.
As the days turned to weeks she remembered how Brooke had grown more and more concerned. Brooke at the time had been the only person who knew Peyton was pregnant. Her best friend had marched Peyton to the hospital and reasoned with worried mother to be that she was probably anaemic and needed to be checked out for the baby's sake.
The two girls had sat in the doctor's office as Peyton told the kind-faced female doctor what was wrong. She felt a stab of fear as the doctor's eyes darkened as Peyton mentioned the nose bleeds she'd began having, the frequent bruising and the breathlessness over the smallest amounts of physical exertion. The doctor had concluded the visit with a blood test and Peyton had left still putting her symptoms down to anaemia.
The next couple of weeks were filled with more tests and words and implications that Peyton's mind didn't want to process, acknowledge or understand. The tests and medical jargon were things she'd heard on the TV and knew didn't end happily. Then she got the call, the call that said her doctor needed to see her right away. Even as the doctor told her sympathetically that she was sorry and began to talk about treatment and prognosis Peyton couldn't fathom what she was hearing. Her hand had rested on her taunt stomach as only one terrifying reality hit her.
Peyton had returned back to her lonely apartment, her head whirling with far too many thoughts and overwhelmed by the many decisions she had to make. She had cried her bitter tears. Not for herself but for her unborn child. Every fibre of her being told her that her baby came first.
For the first time since Peyton had found out that she herself had been adopted she found herself identifying with her birth mother. She had harboured such resentment and anger towards Ellie to begin with. She had then grown to love Ellie and had tried to see past her own mother's shortcomings. But she had never really understood Ellie's actions. She had never wanted to try and fathom why her mother had chosen to give her away. That was until now. Ellie's reasons may have been flawed and questionable but she had given Peyton to Anna and Larry Sawyer in the hopes that Peyton would have a better life. The lifetime's confusion that had occupied Peyton's thoughts could now finally be answered by her own decisions and future actions.
"Hey P Sawyer," Brooke said quietly as she entered the room. Her usual bouncing step was somewhat diminished. She set down Peyton's overnight bag. Peyton had lost a lot of blood after giving birth and the doctors had advised she stay in the hospital for a couple of days. Brooke smiled sadly as she sank down on the bed beside her and watched her best friend holding her miniature baby girl. "How are you holding up?"
"I'm ok," Peyton's voice was but a barely audible whisper. "I called Luke. He's on his way."
Brooke simply nodded in response. "It's harder now," Peyton admitted. "It was hard when she was growing inside me. But now that she's here. And she's in my arms. It's really hard."
"Are you sure about this? I mean really sure?" Brooke asked as she watched her friend struggling to hold herself together. She had never truly agreed with her friend's decision. She supported Peyton because she would always be loyal to her oldest and dearest friend. Brooke had wanted to adopt a child for a while now and had offered to take care of Isabelle whilst Peyton got treatment. Brooke Davis was always the optimist in the friendship and refused to believe anything other than that her friend would beat her illness.
Peyton's face softened into the purest smile as Isabelle's eyes opened and focused up at her. Isabelle's very dazzling grey-blue eyes that for now at least mirrored those of her father's. "She deserves a loving home. I can't give her that. Luke can. She deserves to know her father Brooke."
"Ok," Brooke conceded regretfully.
Isabelle's lips parted just a fraction as she let out a small yet distinctive gurgle. Peyton felt the telltale sting of the tears that threatened to fall. "She's so beautiful," she whispered as it was all she could summon within her.
The perky brunette stroked her fingers so gently over the newborn's soft cheek. "Yeah she is. She's perfect honey."
x-x-x
A mother's love something that no one can truly explain. It just is and is truly unconditional. It is a deep devotion, unyielding and innate. To protect and ensure that your child is happy, loved, safe and going to have the best possible start in life is all a mother could wish for.
-- --
Lucas held Peyton tightly to his chest. He didn't know what else to do. Seeing her was never easy. Seeing her again filled him with such a deep sense of longing and an all too familiar and overwhelming taste of regret. He tried to ignore that she was thinner than he remembered her being. He stroked her back as he attempted to soothe her. She hid her sickness well. Her vivid green eyes still burned with intensity and purpose. She hadn't lost her fight. He didn't believe she ever would. But her eyes also held what was probably unnoticeable to anyone else but he saw it. He always saw it. The haunting shadows of sorrow, regret and loneliness.
He finally pulled himself from her. "Are you ok?" He knew his tone was uncertain. He needed to know if she was alright. But he stumbled on the words he couldn't bring himself to utter into the space between them. "Are you....? Is it....?"
"No," she said simply. Peyton raised her head to meet his gaze. "I just.... I need to see her."
"Ok," he uttered adhering to her request without a moment's consideration. She seemed so fragile. Weak, shaken and scared. That frightened him more than he'd ever admit. "Ok we can go there now. Lindsey's in New York until tomorrow. Mom's looking after Izzy today."
Peyton nodded and fell into step beside him. They walked mostly in silence on the short journey back to the house. Peyton followed him cautiously inside. She couldn't help but feel ill at ease now, like she shouldn't be there. She had been so worried about the prospect of seeing Lindsey. Knowing that the woman wouldn't be there made her feel better and worse at the same time. The guilt that Lucas's wife was completely unaware as to her visit washed over her. Lucas closed the door lightly behind them and Peyton turned to face him.
"Maybe you run this by Lindsey first," she suggested. She had been so intent on just seeing that Isabelle was safe but now she felt more hesitant.
Lucas shook his head, "I told you. I'd never stop you from seeing Izzy."
Peyton gave him a little smile before she surveyed her surroundings and took in the subtle changes about Lucas's childhood home.
Lindsey had completely redecorated and transformed the house. She had replaced Karen's old worn and antique furnishings with new and more up to date ones. The rooms of the house were kept immaculately tidy. The neutral colours and minimalist features were not too Peyton's taste. She wrapped her arms around her body as she felt the chills of the past mix with the uncertainties of the future. The once welcoming home was somewhere she wouldn't have truly recognised if she hadn't been brought there. She then noticed the pictures of the blonde curly haired toddler with Lucas and Lindsey and she wanted to cry.
Karen stepped out from the nursery and the woman's kind brown eyes swept over Peyton and the younger woman offered a small smile by way of greeting. Karen Roe had always been a figure of aspiration in Peyton's life. Karen had loved and lost and still remained strong and graceful in the face of adversity.
Karen's own resolve threatened to crack and she pulled Peyton in for a hug. Peyton embraced the woman she still regarded as a mother figure and welcomed the first rush of calm that swept through her since she'd arrived back in Tree Hill.
"She's still sleeping," Karen said softly. Her eyes fell onto her son. "I'll just be downstairs. I'll let you two have some time together."
Lucas led Peyton into Isabelle's room. The child's own space was so unlike the rest of the house. The walls were painted bright and cheerful as stuffed animals and toys occupied every available space.
Isabelle was but a small crescent shape in the middle of her crib. Peyton felt a sob catch in her throat as she smiled down at the sleeping girl. Only Isabelle's rosy face and tiny clasped fists peeked from the swaths of pink blankets. Her short fine curls fanned out behind her head contrasting against the white sheets. Peyton trailed her hand delicately over the child's soft sweet face.
"Thank you Luke," she whispered.
"No. Thank you," Lucas replied sincerely. "I can't imagine a life without her Peyt."
Peyton glanced back to face him. Her eyes glistening with tears that threatened to be shed. "I know."
-- --
Lucas watched as Peyton and Isabelle interacted with each other later that day. He'd convinced Peyton to stay for a while and spend some time with the little girl; though Peyton hadn't needed much convincing. Isabelle was usually somewhat fussy with strangers and yet had responded almost immediately to the mother she'd never known.
The bond between the two girls was undeniably and unconsciously there. Lucas's heart ached as he saw their matching inter-locked green eyes and all the other likenesses between the two of them. He tried to pretend to his heart that as he saw how perfectly the mother and daughter fitted together that it wasn't all he wanted and needed. For both himself and for Isabelle.
Lucas's mind wandered back to the day when he'd come to take Isabelle from the hospital and back to a life with himself and Lindsey. He remembered seeing Peyton lying pale and exhausted with their brand new baby girl cradled in her arms. He didn't think he'd ever loved anyone as much as he loved them both in that moment.
He crouched down on the carpeted floor beside the girls. Peyton's eyes met with his own and stayed fixed there longer than was necessary. So many memories of their life together, of High School and growing into adulthood blossomed into his mind. They had had everything together and had lost everything together.
"Talk to me Peyt," he said quietly. He had to know if his own fears of seeing her back were needed. He knew she wouldn't supply the information willingly if he didn't ask. "Why are you here?"
"I just...." Peyton faltered. "I just needed to see her." She felt foolish now that she had spent time with both Lucas and Isabelle. Her dream had been so real, so vivid and left its mark of terror on her heart. But as she watched Lucas with her daughter and saw the bond he clearly had with her she felt that she had over reacted. She felt ashamed almost.
"Come on Peyt, I know you better than that." Lucas frowned as he really looked at her. "You show up out of the blue. What's going on?" In his mind there was only one reason why she'd show up like this. He didn't want to face that fact, he hadn't done when she'd first come to him. He didn't want to now. But he still needed to know.
Peyton tried to avoid his questioning gaze. His thoughts and concerns were clearly visible on his perfectly chiselled features. She knew him all too well. She knew how he worried about her. She remembered back to when Ellie had lost her own battle to cancer; Lucas had been the one to advise her to let the ones she loved in. That she didn't have to be alone.
She was unsure of whether to admit why she had come. She didn't want to offend or upset him. But then she was reminded that this was Lucas. The same sensitive boy who'd seen into her heart when they were teenagers. He was the one she'd wanted forever with. And Lucas was the man who she trusted to take care of her of her child. She owed him some sort of an explanation.
She bit her lip before she began speaking, "I had this dream. Actually it was more like a nightmare. Isabelle was sick and I couldn't help her. I got worried and I don't know. I guess I was scared something bad had happened to her."
Lucas placed a hand lightly on her shoulder. "I'd never let anything happen to her Peyton. I promised you that back then and I meant it. She's the most important thing in the world to me Peyt. You can believe that."
"I know," she stammered. "I guess I just needed to see her and see she was ok with my own eyes." Peyton's eyes strayed back to her daughter as she traced her finger over the miniature hand. "But she's clearly happy. You're great with her Luke. And she's perfect. She's having the life I wanted for her."
Lucas smiled slightly but as he did Peyton saw the cracks shining through. She furrowed her brow with the same concern she'd felt when she'd called him.
"So," she took a chance at bringing up the subject that still weighed on her mind. "So um you can tell me to mind my own business; but you and Lindsey? Is everything ok?"
"It's hard," Lucas ran a hand over Izzy thin curls, focusing on his daughter as he voiced a truth he couldn't confess to himself or anyone else until now. "Lindsey tries. She does. She tries with Izzy. Or at least she did."
His and Lindsey's marriage had fractured long before Isabelle's birth. He knew that. But the child that even Lindsey had thought would bring them closer served to drive them further apart.
Lucas inhaled deeply. "I don't know Peyt. She doesn't really have a bond with Izzy. Lindsey's been depressed. Really depressed. And I know it must be hard for her. But she won't talk to me about it anymore. It's just been getting worse. I've been trying to cope with coaching and raising Izzy. Since Izzy turned one Lindsey has distanced herself more and more from me. Mom helps out a lot now, so does Haley."
Peyton listened to his words as he confided in her. Lindsey truly came into focus in front of her. "Luke I'm sorry."
"It wasn't supposed to be like this," Lucas uttered sadly.
Peyton nodded, "I know."
Lucas let a loud audible sigh pass his lips. As much as it pained him to even think about the prospect that he might be repeating his own father's mistakes the irony of his own heart's desires weren't lost on him.
"You ever wish you could go back?" he asked before he could even process the words flowing freely from his mouth.
"Yeah," she admitted sadly. "I do. All the time."
A click of the front door opening marked Lindsey's return. She'd dropped her bag with a thud and then entered the lounge. Her mouth fell open at the unexpected sight in front of her.
Lindsey's eyes met with Peyton's immediately. She scrutinized Peyton as she lips were pursed tightly together.